"I have heard from Mr. Douglas Kinnaird that you state 'a report of a satire on Mr. Gifford having arrived from Italy, _said_ to be written by _me_! but that _you_ do not believe it.' I dare say you do not, nor anybody else, I should think. Whoever asserts that I am the author or abettor of any thing of the kind on Gifford lies in his throat. If any such composition exists it is none of mine. _You_ know as well as any body upon _whom_ I have or have not written; and _you_ also know whether they do or did not deserve that same. And so much for such matters. "You will perhaps be anxious to hear some news from this part of Greece (which is the most liable to invasion); but you will hear enough through public and private channels. I will, however, give you the events of a week, mingling my own private peculiar with the public; for we are here a little jumbled together at present. "On Sunday (the 15th, I believe,) I had a strong and sudden convulsive attack, which left me speechless, though not motionless--for some strong men could not hold me; but whether it was epilepsy, catalepsy, cachexy, or apoplexy, or what other _exy _ or _epsy_, the doctors have not decided; or whether it was spasmodic or nervous, &c.; but it was very unpleasant, and nearly carried me off, and all that. On Monday, they put leeches to my temples, no difficult matter, but the blood could not be stopped till eleven at night (they had gone too near the temporal artery for my temporal safety), and neither styptic nor caustic would cauterise the orifice till after a hundred attempts. "On Tuesday, a Turkish brig of war ran on shore. On Wednesday, great preparations being made to attack her, though protected by her consorts[1], the Turks burned her and retired to Patras. On Thursday a quarrel ensued between the Suliotes and the Frank guard at the arsenal: a Swedish officer[2] was killed, and a Suliote severely wounded, and a general fight expected, and with some difficulty prevented. On Friday, the officer was buried; and Captain Parry's English artificers mutinied, under pretence that their lives are in danger, and are for quitting the country:--they may.[3] [Footnote 1: "Early in the morning we prepared for our attack on the brig. Lord Byron, notwithstanding his weakness, and an inflammation that threatened his eyes, was most anxious to be of our party; but the physicians would not suffer him to go."--COUNT GAMBA'S _Narrative_. His Lordship had promised a reward for every Turk taken alive in the proposed attack on this vessel.]