"My dear Sir,

"Our friend, il Conte M., threw me into a cold sweat last night, by
telling me of a menaced version of Manfred (in Venetian, I hope, to
complete the thing) by some Italian, who had sent it to you for
correction, which is the reason why I take the liberty of troubling
you on the subject. If you have any means of communication with the
man, would you permit me to convey to him the offer of any price he
may obtain or think to obtain for his project, provided he will
throw his translation into the fire[16], and promise not to
undertake any other of that or any other of _my_ things: I will
send his money immediately on this condition.

"As I did not write _to_ the Italians, nor _for_ the Italians, nor
_of_ the Italians, (except in a poem not yet published, where I
have said all the good I know or do not know of them, and none of
the harm,) I confess I wish that they would let me alone, and not
drag me into their arena as one of the gladiators, in a silly
contest which I neither understand nor have ever interfered with,
having kept clear of all their literary parties, both here and at
Milan, and elsewhere.--I came into Italy to feel the climate and be
quiet, if possible. Mossi's translation I would have prevented, if
I had known it, or could have done so; and I trust that I shall yet
be in time to stop this new gentleman, of whom I heard yesterday
for the first time. He will only hurt himself, and do no good to
his party, for in _party_ the whole thing originates. Our modes of
thinking and writing are so unutterably different, that I can
conceive no greater absurdity than attempting to make any approach
between the English and Italian poetry of the present day. I like
the people very much, and their literature very much, but I am not