214—to Thomas Moore
December 11, 1811.
My Dear Moore,—If you please, we will drop our former monosyllables, and adhere to the appellations sanctioned by our godfathers and godmothers. If you make it a point, I will withdraw your name; at the same time there is no occasion, as I have this day postponed your election
sine die
, till it shall suit your wishes to be amongst us. I do not say this from any awkwardness the erasure of your proposal would occasion to
me
, but simply such is the state of the case; and, indeed, the longer your name is up, the stronger will become your probability of success, and your voters more numerous. Of course you will decide—your wish shall be my law. If my zeal has already outrun discretion, pardon me, and attribute my officiousness to an excusable motive.
I wish you would go down with me to Newstead. Hodgson will be there, and a young friend, named Harness, the earliest and dearest I ever had from the third form at Harrow to this hour. I can promise you good wine, and, if you like shooting, a manor of 4000 acres, fires, books, your own free will, and my own very indifferent company.
Balnea, vina, Venus
.
Hodgson will plague you, I fear, with verse;—for
my
own part I will conclude, with Martial,
nil recitabo tibi
; and surely the last inducement, is not the least. Ponder on my proposition, and believe me, my dear Moore,
Yours ever,
Byron
.
Footnote 1:
"Balnea, vina, Venus corrumpunt corpora nostra."
The words are thus given in Grüter (
Corpus Inscriptionum
(1603), p. DCCCCXII. 10.
Footnote 2:
Martial (xi. lii. 16),
Ad Julium Cerealem
:
"Plus ego polliceor: nil recitabo tibi."
