Letters of John Keats to His Family and FriendsKeats, John
General
Letters of John Keats to His Family and Friends
Keats, John
Keats, John, 1795-1821 -- Correspondence; Poets, English -- 19th century -- Correspondence
Corpus Christi procession join the soldiers.--The mayor and corporation
follow the same road--Old and young, deaf and dumb,--all but the
blind,--are smitten, and form an immense concourse of people, who----what
Brown will do with them I know not. The devil himself falls in love with
her, flies away with her to a desert place, in consequence of which she
lays an infinite number of eggs--the eggs being hatched from time to time,
fill the world with many nuisances, such as John Knox, George Fox, Johanna
Southcote, and Gifford.
There have been within a fortnight eight failures of the highest
consequence in London. Brown went a few evenings since to Davenport's, and
on his coming in he talked about bad news in the city with such a face I
began to think of a national bankruptcy. I did not feel much surprised and
was rather disappointed. Carlisle, a bookseller on the Hone principle, has
been issuing pamphlets from his shop in Fleet Street called the Deist. He
was conveyed to Newgate last Thursday; he intends making his own defence.
I was surprised to hear from Taylor the amount of money of the
bookseller's last sale. What think you of L25,000? He sold 4000 copies of
Lord Byron. I am sitting opposite the Shakspeare I brought from the Isle
of Wight--and I never look at him but the silk tassels on it give me as
much pleasure as the face of the poet itself.[89]
In my next packet, as this is one by the way, I shall send you the Pot of
Basil, St. Agnes Eve, and if I should have finished it, a little thing
called the Eve of St. Mark. You see what fine Mother Radcliff names I
have--it is not my fault--I do not search for them. I have not gone on
with Hyperion--for to tell the truth I have not been in great cue for
writing lately--I must wait for the spring to rouse me up a little. The
only time I went out from Bedhampton was to see a chapel
consecrated--Brown, I, and John Snook the boy, went in a chaise behind a
leaden horse. Brown drove, but the horse did not mind him. This chapel is
built by a Mr. Way, a great Jew converter, who in that line has spent one
hundred thousand pounds. He maintains a great number of poor Jews--_Of
course his communion plate was stolen_. He spoke to the clerk about
it--The clerk said he was very sorry, adding, "_I dare shay, your honour,
it's among ush_."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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