The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb Volume VI Part 92

[_On the next page_:--]

Emma hast kist this yellow wafer--a hint.

DEAREST M.

Never mind opposite nonsense. She does not love you for the watch, but the watch for you.

I will be at the wedding, and keep the 30 July as long as my poor months last me, as a festival gloriously.

Your _ever

ELIA._

We have not heard from Cambridge. I will write the moment we do.

Edmonton, 24th July, 3.20 post mer. minutes 4 instants by Emma's watch.

[There used to be preserved at Rowfant (it is now in America) a letter from Lamb to Moxon, postmarked July 28, 1833, mentioning Lamb's anxiety about Martin Burney. It is unnecessary to print this.]

LETTER 587

CHARLES AND MARY LAMB TO EDWARD AND EMMA MOXON

[No date. ? July 31, 1833.]

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Moxon--

Time very short. I wrote to Miss Fryer, and had the sweetest letter about you, Emma, that ever friends.h.i.+p dictated. "I am full of good wishes, I am crying with good wishes," she says; but you shall see it.--

Dear Moxon, I take your writing most kindly and shall most kindly your writing from Paris--

I want to crowd another letter to Miss Fry[er] into the little time after dinner before Post time.

So with 20000 congratulations,

Yours,

C.L.

I am calm, sober, happy. Turn over for the reason.

I got home from Dover St., by Evens, _half as sober as a judge_. I am turning over a new leaf, as I hope you will now.

[_On the next leaf Mary Lamb wrote_:--]

MY DEAR EMMA AND EDWARD MOXON,

Accept my sincere congratulations, and imagine more good wishes than my weak nerves will let me put into good set words. The dreary blank of _unanswered questions_ which I ventured to ask in vain was cleared up on the wedding-day by Mrs. W. taking a gla.s.s of wine, and, with a total change of countenance, begged leave to drink Mr. and Mrs. Moxon's health. It restored me, from that moment: as if by an electrical stroke: to the entire possession of my senses--I never felt so calm and quiet after a similar illness as I do now. I feel as if all tears were wiped from my eyes, and all care from my heart.

MARY LAMB.

[_At the foot of this letter Charles Lamb added_:--]

Wednesday.

DEARS AGAIN

Your letter interrupted a seventh game at Picquet which _we_ were having, after walking to _Wright's_ and purchasing shoes. We pa.s.s our time in cards, walks, and reading. We attack Ta.s.so soon.

C.L.

Never was such a calm, or such a recovery. 'Tis her own words, undictated.

[The marriage of Edward Moxon and Emma Isola was celebrated on July 30.

They afterwards went to Paris.

"Mrs. W."--Mrs. Walden, I imagine.

Here should come an amusing but brief account of the wedding sent by Lamb to Louisa Badams on August 20 (printed by Canon Ainger). "I am not fit for weddings or burials. Both incite a chuckle:" a sentiment which Lamb more than once expresses.

Here should come a note thanking Matilda Betham for some bridal verses written for the wedding of Edward Moxon and Emma Isola. "In haste and headake."]

LETTER 588

CHARLES LAMB TO H.F. CARY

Sept. 9th, 1833.

Dear Sir,--Your packet I have only just received, owing, I suppose, to the absence of Moxon, who is flaunting it about _a la Parisienne_ with his new bride, our Emma, much to his satisfaction and not a little to our dulness. We shall be quite well by the time you return from Worcesters.h.i.+re and most most (observe the repet.i.tion) glad to see you here or anywhere.

I will take my time with Darley's act. I wish poets would write a little plainer; he begins some of his words with a letter which is unknown to the English typography.

Yours, most truly,

C. LAMB.

P.S.--Pray let me know when you return. We are at Mr. Walden's, Church-street, Edmonton; no longer at Enfield. You will be amused to hear that my sister and I have, with the aid of Emma, scrambled through the "Inferno" by the blessed furtherance of your polar-star translation.

I think we scarce left anything unmadeout. But our partner has left us, and we have not yet resumed. Mary's chief pride in it was that she should some day brag of it to you. Your Dante and Sandys' Ovid are the only helpmates of translations. Neither of you s.h.i.+rk a word.

Fairfax's Ta.s.so is no translation at all. It's better in some places; but it merely observes the number of stanzas; as for images, similes, &c., he finds 'em himself, and never "troubles Peter for the matter."

In haste, dear Gary, yours ever,