Saturday Morning.
June 7, 1845.
I ventured to hope this morning might bring me news of you – – First East-winds on you, then myself, then those criticisms! – – I do assure you I am properly apprehensive. How are you? May I go on Wednesday without too much ανθαδια.
Pray remember what I said and wrote, to the effect that my exceptions were, in almost every case, to the ‘reading’ – – not to your version of it: but I have not specified the particular ones – – not written down the Greek, of my suggested translations – – have I? And if you do not find them in the margin of your copy, how you must wonder! Thus, in the last speech but one, of Hermes, I prefer Porson and Blomfield’s ει μηδ’ ατυχων τι χαλα μανιων; – – to the old combinations that include ευτυχη – – though there is no MS. authority for emendation, it seems. But in what respect does Prometheus ‘fare well,’ or ‘better’ even, since the beginning? And is it not the old argument over again, that when a man fails he should repent of his ways? – – And while thinking of Hermes, let me say that ‘μηδε μοι διπλας οδους προσβαλης’ is surely – – ‘Don’t subject me to the trouble of a second journey . . . by paying no attention to the first.’ So says Scholiast A, and so backs him Scholiast B, especially created, it should appear, to show there could be in rerum naturâ such another as his predecessor. A few other remarks occur to me, which I will tell you if you please; now, I really want to know how you are, and write for that.
Ever yours,
R.B.