the sort of luxurious comforts with which I had found the "wit in the
dungeon" surrounded,--his trellised flower-garden without, and his
books, busts, pictures, and piano-forte within,--the noble poet, whose
political view of the case coincided entirely with my own, expressed a
strong wish to pay a similar tribute of respect to Mr. Hunt, and
accordingly, a day or two after, we proceeded for that purpose to the
prison. The introduction which then took place was soon followed by a
request from Mr. Hunt that we would dine with him; and the noble poet
having good-naturedly accepted the invitation, Horsemonger Lane gaol
had, in the month of June, 1813, the honour of receiving Lord Byron, as
a guest, within its walls.

On the morning of our first visit to the journalist, I received from
Lord Byron the following lines written, it will be perceived, the night
before:--

"May 19. 1813.

"Oh you, who in all names can tickle the town,
Anacreon, Tom Little, Tom Moore, or Tom Brown,--
For hang me if I know of which you may most brag,
Your Quarto two-pounds, or your Twopenny Post Bag;
* * * *
But now to my letter--to yours 'tis an answer--
To-morrow be with me, as soon as you can, sir,
All ready and dress'd for proceeding to spunge on
(According to compact) the wit in the dungeon--
Pray Phoebus at length our political malice
May not get us lodgings within the same palace!
I suppose that to-night you're engaged with some codgers,