Let me speak of that letter—­I am ashamed at having mentioned those circumstances, and should not have done so, but for their insignificance—­for I knew that if you ever did hear of them, all any body would say would not amount to enough to be repeated to me and so get explained at once.  Now that the purpose is gained, it seems little worth gaining.  You bade me not send the letter:  I will not.

As for ’what people say’—­ah—­Here lies a book, Bartoli’s ‘Simboli’ and this morning I dipped into his Chapter XIX.  His ‘Symbol’ is ‘Socrate fatto ritrar su’ Boccali’ and the theme of his dissertating, ’L’indegnita del mettere in disprezzo i piu degni filosofi dell’antichita.’  He sets out by enlarging on the horror of it—­then describes the character of Socrates, then tells the story of the representation of the ’Clouds,’and thus gets to his ’symbol’—­’le pazzie fatte spacciare a Socrate in quella commedia ... il misero in tanto scherno e derisione del pubblico, che perfino i vasai dipingevano il suo ritratto sopra gli orci, i fiaschi, i boccali, e ogni vasellamento da piu vile servigio.  Cosi quel sommo filosofo ... fu condotto a far di se par le case d’Atene una continua commedia, con solamente vederlo comparir cosi scontraffatto e ridicolo, come i vasai sel formavano d’invenzione’—­

There you have what a very clever man can say in choice Tuscan on a passage in AElian which he takes care not to quote nor allude to, but which is the sole authority for the fact.  AElian, speaking of Socrates’ magnanimity, says that on the first representation, a good many foreigners being present who were at a loss to know ’who could be this Socrates’—­the sage himself stood up that he might be pointed out to them by the auditory at large ... ‘which’ says AElian—­’was no difficulty for them, to whom his features were most familiar,—­the very potters being in the habit of decorating their vessels with his likeness’—­no doubt out of a pleasant and affectionate admiration.  Yet see how ‘people’ can turn this out of its sense,—­’say’ their say on the simplest, plainest word or deed, and change it to its opposite!  ‘God’s great gift of speech abused’ indeed!

But what shall we hear of it there, my Siren?

On Monday—­is it not? Who was it looked into the room just at our leave-taking?

Bless you, my ever dearest,—­remember to walk, to go down-stairs—­and be sure that I will endeavour to get well for my part.  To-day I am very well—­with this letter!

Your own.

E.B.B. to R.B.

Friday Evening.
[Post-mark, March 7, 1846.]

Always you, is it, who torments me? always you?  Well!  I agree to bear the torments as Socrates his persecution by the potters:—­and by the way he liked those potters, as Plato shows, and was fain to go to them for his illustrations ... as I to you for all my light.  Also, while we are on the subject, I will tell you another fault of your Bartoli ... his ‘choice Tuscan’ filled one of my pages, in the place of my English better than Tuscan.