[Postmark: May 6, 1846]
Dearest Ba let me silent, as on other occasions, over
what you promise : one reads of ‘ a contest in generosity,’
and now this party was as determined to give, as that party
not to accept — far from anything so graceful, I am com-
pelled to clutch at the offering, I take all, because, because
— because I must, now ! May God requite you, my best
beloved !
I met Mrs. Jameson last evening and she began just as
I prophesied . . ‘ but ‘ said she ‘ I will tell you all when
you come and breakfast with me on Thursday — which a
note of mine now on its way to you, desires may happen ! ‘
A large party at Chorley’s, and admirable music — not
without a pleasant person or two. I wish you could hear
that marvellous Pischek, with his Rhine songs, and Bohemian
melodies. Then a Herr Kellerman told a kind of crying
story on the violoncello, full of quiet pathos, and Godefroi
— if they so spell him — harped like a God harping, im-
mortal victorious music indeed ! Altogether a notable
evening . . oh, the black ingratitude of man . . these few
words are the poor ‘set-off’ to this morning’s weary
yawning, and stupefaction. To-night having to follow beside !
So near you I shall be ! Mrs J. is to at the Procters’
to-night too. Oh, by the way, and in the straight way to
make Ba laugh . . Mrs J.’s first word was ‘ What ? Are
you married ?’ She having caught a bit of Miss Chorley’s
enquiry after ‘ Mrs. Browning’s health ‘ i.e. my mother’s.
Probably Miss Heaton’s friend, who is my intimate, heard
me profess complete infidelity as to — homœopathy . . que
sais-je ? But of all accusations in the world . . what do
you say to my having been asked if I was not the Author of
‘ Romeo and Juliet,’ and ‘ Othello ‘? A man actually asked
me that, as I sate in Covent Garden Pit to see the second
representation of ‘ Strafford ‘ — I supposed he had been set
on by somebody, but the simple face looked too quiet
for that impertinence — I was muffled up in a cloak, too ; so
I said ‘ No — so far as I am aware.’ (His question was ‘ is
not this Mr. Browning the author of &c. &c. ‘) After the
play, all was made clear by somebody in Macready’s dress-
ing room — two burlesques on Shakespeare were in the course
of performance at some minor theatre by a Mr. Brown, or
Brownley, or something Brown-like — and to these my friend
had alluded.
So is begot, so nourished ‘ il mondan rumore ‘ — I, author
of ‘ Othello ‘ ! — when I can be, and am, and may tell Ba I
am, her own, own
R.
The news about the post — the walk there which might
have been, — that is pure delight ! But take care, my all-
precious love—festina lente. All the same, what a vision I
have of the Bonnet !