For which poor Prometheus was chain'd to his mountain.

'Tis the source of all sentiment-feeling's true fountain:

'Tis the Vision of Heaven upon Earth: 'tis the gas Of the soul: 'tis the seizing of shades as they pass, And making them substance: 'tis something divine:Ink. Shall I help you, my friend, to a little more wine?

Both. I thank you; not any more, sir, till I dine. Ink. A propos-Do you dine with Sir Humphry (1) to-day?

Tra. I should think with Duke Humphry was more in your way.

Ink. It might be of yore; but we authors now look To the knight, as a landlord, much more than the

Duke.

The truth is, each writer now quite at his ease is, And (except with his publisher) dines where he pleases.

But 'tis now nearly five, and I must to the Park. Tra. And I'll take a turn with you there till 'tis And you, Scamp

Scamp.

[dark. Excuse me; I must to my notes,

For my lecture next week.

Ink.

He must mind whom he quotes

Out of "Elegant Extracts."
Lady Blueb.

Well, now we break up;

But remember Miss Diddle (2) invites us to sup.

(1) [The late Sir Humphry Davy, President of the Royal Society.] (2) [The late Miss Lydia White, whose hospitable functions have not yet been supplied to the circle of London artists and literati - an accom

Ink. Then at two hours past midnight we all

meet again,

For the sciences, sandwiches, hock, and champaigne! Tra. And the sweet lobster salad!

Both. I honour that meal; For 'tis then that our feelings most genuinely-feel. Ink. True; feeling is truest then, far beyond

question:

I wish to the gods 'twas the same with digestion ! Lady Blueb. Pshaw! never mind that; for one

Sir Rich. (aside). I wish all these people were dd with my marriage!

[Exeunt.

plished, clever, and truly amiable, but very eccentric lady. The name in the text could only have been suggested by the jingling resemblance it bears to Lydia.-E.]

MARINO FALIERO,

DOGE OF VENICE;

AN HISTORICAL TRAGEDY,

IN FIVE ACTS. (1)

"Dux inquieti turbidus Adriæ."- HORACE.

(1) [On the original MS. sent from Ravenna, Lord Byron has written :"Begun April 4th, 1820-completed July 16th, 1820-finished copying August 16th-17th, 1820; the which copying makes ten times the toil of composing, considering the weather- thermometer 90 in the shade- and my domestic duties."— E.]