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I am so anxious about the crisis there. We have had a very interesting visit lately from the grandson of Goethe. My dearest Sarianna, I do hope that Robert takes his share of the blame in using and abusing you as we have done. It was altogether too bad shameful to send that last MS. for you to copy out; and I did, indeed, make a little outcry about it, only he insisted on having it so.
Robert gives me this blank, and three minutes to write across it. Thank you, my very dear Sarianna, for all your kindness and affection. I understand what I have lost. I know the worth of a tenderness such as you speak of, and I feel that for the sake of my love for Robert she was ready out of the fullness of her heart to love me also.
Sarianna, will it not be possible, do you think, for you and your father to come here, if only for a few months? Then you might decide on the future upon more knowledge than you have now. It would be comfort and joy to Robert and me if we could all of us live together henceforward. Think what you would like, and how you would best like it.
He will now resume painting and sculpture having been necessarily occupied with the superintendence of his workmen a matter capitally managed, I am told. For the rest, both Sarianna and myself are very well; I have just sent off my new volume of verses for publication. The complete edition of the works of E. B. B. begins in a few days.
'My dearest Sarianna, I am delighted to say that we have arrived, and see our dear Florence the Queen of Italy, after all . . . A comfort is that Robert is considered here to be looking better than he ever was known to look and this, notwithstanding the greyness of his beard . . . which indeed, is, in my own mind, very becoming to him, the argentine touch giving a character of elevation and thought to the whole physiognomy.
I yearn for the poems, but he leaves that to me for the present. . . . You will think Robert looking very well when you see him; indeed, you may judge by the photographs meanwhile. You know, Sarianna, how I used to forbid the moustache. I insisted as long as I could, but all artists were against me, and I suppose that the bare upper lip does not harmonise with the beard.
For the rest, the English hunt lions, too, Sarianna, but their lions are chiefly chosen among lords and railway kings. . . . We cannot be surprised at Mrs. Browning's desire for a more sustained literary activity on her husband's part. We learn from his own subsequent correspondence that he too regarded the persevering exercise of his poetic faculty as almost a religious obligation.
I shall be very glad to get him away from Florence; he has suffered too much here to rally as I long to see him do, because, dearest Sarianna, we have to live after all; and to live rightly we must turn our faces forward and press forward and not look backward morbidly for the footsteps in the dust of those beloved ones who travelled with us but yesterday.
Write soon, and of yourself, to your ever affectionate My husband's regards go to you, of course. My dearest Sarianna, At last, you see, I give sign of life. The love, I hope you believed in without sign or symbol; and even for the rest, Robert promised to answer for me like godfather or godmother, and bear the consequence of my sins....
'My dearest Sarianna, . . . Here is Penini's letter, which takes up so much room that I must be sparing of mine and, by the way, if you consider him improved in his writing, give the praise to Robert, who has been taking most patient pains with him indeed. You will see how the little curly head is turned with carnival doings.
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