“I shall remain in town for, at least, a week, and expect to hear from you before its expiration.  I presume the printer has brought you the offspring of my poetic mania.  Remember in the first line to ’loud the winds whistle,’ instead of ‘round,’ which that blockhead Ridge has inserted by mistake, and makes nonsense of the whole stanza.  Addio!—­Now to encounter my Hydra.

Yours ever.”

LETTER 4.

TO MR. PIGOT.

“London, Sunday, midnight, August 10. 1806.

“Dear Pigot,

“This astonishing packet will, doubtless, amaze you; but having an idle hour this evening, I wrote the enclosed stanzas, which I request you will deliver to Ridge, to be printed separate from my other compositions, as you will perceive them to be improper for the perusal of ladies; of course, none of the females of your family must see them.  I offer 1000 apologies for the trouble I have given you in this and other instances.

Yours truly.”

LETTER 5.

TO MR. PIGOT.

“Piccadilly, August 16. 1806.

“I cannot exactly say with Caesar, ‘Veni, vidi, vici:’  however, the most important part of his laconic account of success applies to my present situation; for, though Mrs. Byron took the trouble of ‘coming,’ and ‘seeing,’ yet your humble servant proved the victor.  After an obstinate engagement of some hours, in which we suffered considerable damage, from the quickness of the enemy’s fire, they at length retired in confusion, leaving behind the artillery, field equipage, and some prisoners:  their defeat is decisive for the present campaign.  To speak more intelligibly, Mrs. B. returns immediately, but I proceed, with all my laurels, to Worthing, on the Sussex coast; to which place you will address (to be left at the post office) your next epistle.  By the enclosure of a second gingle of rhyme, you will probably conceive my muse to be vastly prolific; her inserted production was brought forth a few years ago, and found by accident on Thursday among some old papers.  I have recopied it, and, adding the proper date, request it may be printed with the rest of the family.  I thought your sentiments on the last bantling would coincide with mine, but it was impossible to give it any other garb, being founded on facts.  My stay at Worthing will not exceed three weeks, and you may possibly behold me again at Southwell the middle of September.

* * * * *

“Will you desire Ridge to suspend the printing of my poems till he hears further from me, as I have determined to give them a new form entirely.  This prohibition does not extend to the two last pieces I have sent with my letters to you.  You will excuse the dull vanity of this epistle, as my brain is a chaos of absurd images, and full of business, preparations, and projects.