Few compensate, indeed, for all the rest, and if I were _alone_ I should laugh; or if I were rich enough to do all things, which I shall never be. Pity me for my absence from those social enjoyments which England might afford me, and which I know so well how to appreciate. Still, I shall return some fine morning, out of pure weakness of heart. My dear Peacock, most faithfully yours, P. B. Shelley. [22] Rosalind and Helen. TO MR. AND MRS. GISBORNE (LEGHORN). _Rome, April 6th, 1819._ My dear Friends, A combination of circumstances, which Mary will explain to you, leads us back to Naples in June, or rather the end of May, where we shall remain until the ensuing winter. We shall take a house at Portici, or Castel a Mare, until late in the autumn. The object of this letter is to ask you to spend this period with us. There is no society which we have regretted or desired so much as yours, and in our solitude the benefit of your concession would be greater than I can express. What is a sail to Naples? It is the season of tranquil weather and prosperous winds. If I knew the magic that lay in any given form of words, I would employ them to persuade; but I fear that all I can say is, as you know with truth, we desire that you would come--we wish to see you. You came to see Mary at Lucca, directly I had departed to Venice. It is not our custom, when we can help it, any more than it is yours, to divide our pleasures. What shall I say to entice you? We shall have a piano, and some books, and--little else, beside ourselves. But what will be most inviting to you, you will give much, though you may receive but little pleasure. But whilst I write this with more desire than hope, yet some of that, perhaps the project may fall into your designs. It is intolerable to think of your being buried at Livorno. The success assured by Mr. Reveley’s talents requires another scene. You may have decided to take this summer to consider--and why not with us at Naples, rather than at Livorno? I could address, with respect to Naples, the words of Polypheme in Theocritus, to all the friends I wish to see, and you especially: Ἐξένθοις, Γαλάτεια, καὶ ἐξενθοῖσα λάθοιο, Ὥσπερ ἐγὼ νῦν ᾧδε καθήμενος, οἴκαδ’ ἀπενθεῖν. Most sincerely yours, P. B. Shelley. TO THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK. _Livorno, July, 1819._ My dear Peacock,