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thought is a continual vexation to me--and often hinders me from reading and composing-Write to me as often

as you can-and believe me

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To BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON.

My dear Haydon,

Wentworth Place
[January 1819].

We are very unlucky-I should have stopped to dine with you, but I knew I should not have been able to leave you in time for my plaguy sore throat; which is getting well.

I shall have a little trouble in procuring the Money and a great ordeal to go through-no trouble indeed to

any one else—or ordeal either. I mean I shall have to go to town some thrice, and stand in the Bank an hour or two-to me worse than any thing in Dante—I should have less chance with the people around me than Orpheus had with the Stones. I have been writing a little now and then lately: but nothing to speak of-being discontented and as it were moulting. Yet I do not think I shall ever come to the rope or the Pistol, for after a day or two's melancholy, although I smoke more and more what is to be done, and how it is to be done, should I my own insufficiency-I see by little and little more of ever be able to do it. On my soul, there should be some reward for that continual "agonie ennuyeuse." I was thinking of going into Hampshire for a few days. I have been delaying it longer than I intended. You shall

see me soon; and do not be at all anxious, for this time I really will do, what I never did before in my life, business in good time, and properly.-With respect to the Bond-it may be a satisfaction to you to let me have it but as you love me do not let there be any mention of interest, although we are mortal men-and bind ourselves for fear of death.

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My throat has not suffered me yet to expose myself to the night air: however I have been to town in the day time-have had several interviews with my guardian-have written him rather a plain-spoken Letter -which has had its effect; and he now seems inclined to put no stumbling block in my way: so that I see a good prospect of performing my promise. What I should have lent you ere this if I could have got it, was belonging to poor Tom-and the difficulty is whether I am to inherit it before my Sister is of age; a period of six years. Should it be so I must incontinently take to Corderoy Trowsers. But I am nearly confident 'tis all a Bam. I shall see you soon-but do let me have a line to-day or to-morrow concerning your health and spirits. Your sincere friend John Keats

XCIV.

To CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE AND MRS. DILKE,

from Charles Armitage Brown and Keats.1

Dear Dilke,

Bedhampton, 24 January 1819.

This letter is for your Wife, and if you are a Gentleman, you will deliver it to her, without reading one word further. 'read thou Squire. There is a wager

depending on this.

My charming dear Mrs. Dilke,

It was delightful to receive a letter from you,but such a letter! what presumption in me to attempt to answer it! Where shall I find, in my poor brain, such gibes, such jeers, such flashes of merriment? Alas! you will say, as you read me, Alas! poor Brown! quite chop fallen! But that's not true; my chops have been beautifully plumped out since I came here: my dinners have been good & nourishing, & my inside never washed by a red herring broth. Then my mind has been so happy! I have been smiled on by the fair ones, the Lacy's, the Prices, & the Mullings's, but not by the Richards's; Old Dicky has not called here during my visit, I have not seen him; the whole of the family are shuffling to carriage folks for acquaintances, cutting their old friends, and dealing out pride & folly, while we allow they have got the odd trick, but dispute their honours. I was determined to be beforehand with them, & behaved cavalierly & neglectingly to the family, & passed the girls in Of this joint composition Keats's portion is printed in ordinary

black ink-Brown's portion in red.

Havant with a slight bow.-Keats is much better, owing to a strict forbearance from a third glass of wine. He & I walked from Chichester yesterday, we were here at 3, but the Dinner was finished; a brace of Muir fowl had been dressed; I ate a piece of the breast cold, & it was not tainted; I dared not venture further. Mr. Snook was nearly turned sick by being merely asked to take a mouthful. The other brace was so high, that the cook declined preparing them for the spit, & they were thrown away. I see your husband declared them to be in excellent order; I supposed he enjoyed them in a disgusting manner, sucking the rotten flesh off the bones, & crunching the putrid bones. Did you eat any? I hope not, for an ooman should be delicate in her food.-O you Jezabel! to sit quietly in your room, while the thieves were ransacking my house! No doubt poor Ann's throat was cut; has the Coroner sat on her yet?-Mrs. Snook says she knows how to hold a pen very well, & wants no lessons from me; only think of the vanity of the ooman! She tells me to make honourable mention of your letter which she received at Breakfast time, but how can I do so? I have not read it; & I'll lay my life it is not a tenth part so good as mine,-pshaw on your letter to her!-On Tuesday night I think you'll see me. In the mean time I'll not say a word about spasms in the way of my profession, tho' as your friend I must profess myself very sorry. Keats & I are going to call on Mr. Butler & Mr. Burton this morning, & to-morrow we shall go to Sanstead to see Mr. Way's Chapel consecrated by the two Big-wigs of Gloucester & St. Davids. If that vile Carver & Gilder does not do me justice, I'll annoy him all his life with legal expences at every quarter, if my rent is not sent to the day, & that will not be revenge enough for the trouble & confusion he has put me to.-Mrs. Dilke is remarkably well for Mrs.

Dilke' in winter.--Have you heard any thing of John Blagden; he is off! want of business has made him play the fool,-I am sorry-that Brown and you are getting so very witty-my modest feathered Pen frizzles like baby roast beef at making its entrance among such tantrum sentences-or rather ten senses. Brown super or supper sir named the Sleek has been getting thinner a little by pining opposite Miss Muggins (Brown says Mullins but I beg leave to differ from him)-we sit it out till ten o'Clock-Miss M. has persuaded Brown to shave his whiskers-he came down to Breakfast like the sign of the full Moon-his Profile is quite alter'd. He looks more like an oman than I ever could think it possible—and on puttieg putting on Mrs. D's Calash the deception was complete especially as his voice is trebled by making love in the draught of a doorway. I too am metamorphosed-a young oman here in Bed -- hampton has over persuaded me to wear my shirt collar up to my eyes. Mrs. Snook I catch smoaking it every now and then and I believe Brown does but I cannot now look sideways. Brown wants to scribble more so I will finish with a marginal note—Viz. Remember me to Wentworth Place and Elm Cottage - not forgetting Millamant

Your's if possible

J. Keats

This is abominable! I did but go up stairs to put on a clean & starched handkerchief, & that overweening rogue read my letter & scrawled over one of my sheets, and given him a counterpain, I wish I could blank-it

(k

all over and beat him with a certain rod, & have a

1

Mrs. Dilke of Chichester, the mother of Keats's friend.

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