Apropos of that—­we have a ‘diphthong’ also in this part of the world—­not a Greek, but a Spanish one—­do you understand me?—­which is about to blow up the whole alphabet.  It was first pronounced at Naples, and is spreading; but we are nearer the Barbarians; who are in great force on the Po, and will pass it, with the first legitimate pretext.

“There will be the devil to pay, and there is no saying who will or who will not be set down in his bill.  If ’honour should come unlooked for’ to any of your acquaintance, make a Melody of it, that his ghost, like poor Yorick’s, may have the satisfaction of being plaintively pitied—­or still more nobly commemorated, like ‘Oh breathe not his name.’  In case you should not think him worth it, here is a Chant for you instead—­

        “When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home,
          Let him combat for that of his neighbours;
        Let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome,
          And get knock’d on the head for his labours.

        “To do good to mankind is the chivalrous plan,
          And is always as nobly requited;
        Then battle for freedom wherever you can,
          And, if not shot or hang’d, you’ll get knighted.

“So you have gotten the letter of ’Epigrams’—­I am glad of it.  You will not be so, for I shall send you more.  Here is one I wrote for the endorsement of ‘the Deed of Separation’ in 1816; but the lawyers objected to it, as superfluous.  It was written as we were getting up the signing and sealing. * * has the original.

     “Endorsement to the Deed of Separation, in the April of 1816.

        “A year ago you swore, fond she! 
          ’To love, to honour, and so forth: 
        Such was the vow you pledged to me,
          And here’s exactly what ’tis worth.

     “For the anniversary of January 2. 1821, I have a small grateful
     anticipation, which, in case of accident, I add—­

     “To Penelope, January 2. 1821.

        “This day, of all our days, has done
          The worst for me and you:—­
        ’Tis just six years since we were one,
          And five since we were two.

     “Pray excuse all this nonsense; for I must talk nonsense just now,
     for fear of wandering to more serious topics, which, in the present
     state of things, is not safe by a foreign post.

“I told you in my last, that I had been going on with the ‘Memoirs,’ and have got as far as twelve more sheets.  But I suspect they will be interrupted.  In that case I will send them on by post, though I feel remorse at making a friend pay so much for postage, for we can’t frank here beyond the frontier.

“I shall be glad to hear of the event of the Queen’s concern.  As to the ultimate effect, the most inevitable one to you