CCV. To BENJAMIN ROBERT HAYDON. [Wentworth Place 15 August 1820.] My dear Haydon, I am sorry to be obliged to try your patience a few more days when you will have the Book sent from Town. I am glad to hear you are in progress with another Picture. Go on. I am afraid I shall pop off just when my mind is able to run alone. Your sincere friend John Keats My dear Taylor CCVI. To JOHN TAYLOR. Wentworth Place [15 August 1820.] I do not think I mentioned anything of a Passage to Leghorn by Sea. Will you join that to your enquiries, and, if you can, give a peep at the Berth if the Vessel is [in] our river. Your sincere friend John Keats. P.S. Somehow a copy of Chapman's Homer, lent to me by Haydon, has disappeared from my Lodgings-it has quite flown I am afraid, and Haydon urges the return of it so that I must get one at Longman's and send it to Lisson Grove-or you must-or as I have given you a job on the River-ask Mistessey.1 I had written a Note to this effect to Hessey some time since but crumpled it up in hopes that the Book might come to light. This morning Haydon has sent another messenger. The copy was in good condition with the head. Damn all thieves! Tell Woodhouse I have not lost his Blackwood. Testamentary Paper enclosed in the foregoing. My Chest of Books divide among my friends. In case of my death this scrap of paper may be serviceable in your possession. All my Estate real and personal consists in the hopes of the sale of books publish'd or unpublish'd. Now I wish Brown and you to be the first paid Creditors—the rest is in nubibus-but in case it should shower pay my Taylor the few pounds I owe him. any way, that an attack of spitting of blood, and all its weakening consequences, has prevented me from writing for so long a time. I have matter now for a very long letter, but not news: so I must cut everything short. I shall make some confession, which you will be the only person, for many reasons, I shall trust with. A winter 1 Mr. Hessey. in England would, I have not a doubt, kill me; so I have resolved to go to Italy, either by sea or land. Not that I have any great hopes of that, for, I think, there is a core of disease in me not easy to pull out. I shall be obliged to set off in less than a month. Do not, my dear Brown, teaze yourself about me. You must fill up your time as well as you can, and as happily. You must think of my faults as lightly as you can. When I have health I will bring up the long arrears of letters I owe you. My book has had good success among the literary people, and I believe has a moderate sale. I have seen very few people we know. has visited me more and make some in than any one. I would go to quiries after you, if I could with any bearable sensation; but a person I am not quite used to causes an oppression on my chest. Last week I received a letter from Shelley, at Pisa, of a very kind nature, asking me to pass the winter with him. Hunt has behaved very kindly to me. You shall hear from me again shortly. It will give me great Pleasure to see you here, if you can contrive it; though I confess I should have written instead of calling upon you before I set out on my journey, from the wish of avoiding unpleasant partings. Meantime I will just notice some parts of your Letter. The seal-breaking business is over blown. I think no more of it. A few days ago I wrote to Mr. Brown, asking him to befriend me with his company to Rome. His answer is not yet come, and I do not know when it will, not being certain how far he may be from the Post Office to which my communication is addressed. Let us hope he will go with me. George certainly ought to have written to you: his troubles, anxieties and fatigues are not quite a sufficient excuse. In the course of time you will be sure to find that this neglect, is not forgetfulness. I am sorry to hear you have been so ill and in such low spirits. Now you are better, keep so. Do not suffer your Mind to dwell on unpleasant reflexions-that sort of thing has been the destruction of my health. Nothing is so bad as want of health-it makes one envy scavengers and cinder-sifters. There are enough real distresses and evils in wait for every one to try the most vigorous health. Not that I would say yours are not real-but they are such as to tempt you to employ your imagination on them, rather than endeavour to dismiss them entirely. Do not diet your mind with grief, it destroys the constitution; but let your chief care be of your health, and with that you will meet your share of Pleasure in the world-do not doubt it. If I return well from Italy I will turn over a new leaf for you. I have been improving lately, and have very good hopes of "turning a Neuk" and cheating the consumption. I am not well enough to write to George myself—Mr. Haslam will do it for me, to whom I shall write to day, desiring him to mention as gently as possible your complaint. I am my dear Fanny Your affectionate Brother John. CCIX. To CHARLES ARMITAGE BROWN. My dear Brown, [Wentworth Place August 1820.] I ought to be off at the end of this week, as the cold winds begin to blow towards evening;-but I will wait till I have your answer to this. I am to be introduced, before I set out, to a Dr. Clark, a physician settled at Rome, who promises to befriend me in every way there. The sale of my book is very slow, though it has been very highly rated. One of the causes, I understand from different quarters, of the unpopularity of this new book, is the offence the ladies take at me. On thinking that matter over, I am certain that I have said nothing in a spirit to displease any woman I would care to please; but still there is a tendency to class women in my books with roses and sweetmeats, they never see themselves dominant. I will say no more, but, waiting in anxiety for your answer, doff my hat, and make a purse as long as I can. Your affectionate friend, CCX. To John Keats. [September 1820.] The passport arrived before we started. I don't think I shall be long ill. God bless you—farewell. John Keats |