At the house door, I met Mrs. Smith coming out of the room on the left, where I had seen the card. I said 'Good morning,' and she said 'Good morning, sir,' and I asked if there was a park anywhere near? (I had an idea that there were parks all about London.) She told me that it was about ten minutes sharp walk to the Regent's Park, and gave me some confused directions how to get there. I bought a half-pound of dates and a large brown loaf at a shop close by, and with these under my arm, asked my way, which was a very simple one; passed out of a somewhat dirty road, through some lodge gates, and so over two bridges into the Park itself. I sauntered along the side of the lake, looking at the swans and ducks.
It was a glorious morning. The sun breathed a gentle heat upon me, and warmed me gratefully. The dew was still on the grass: a few people hurried across by the pathways: every now and then a duck whirred through the air. I reached another bridge, went on to it, and stood and watched a flight of sparrows bathing themselves wantonly in the shallows of a small bay on the far shore.
'It is beautiful,' I said.
I ate my dates and loaf on a seat beside a tree on an elevation that runs up there parallel to the curve of the lake. The loaf was of good thick crumby bread, and satisfied without satiating me; the dates, a half-pound, 4d., gave the bread a flavour. The only thing that seemed lacking was a crystal stream from which I might drink a pure cool draught. My breakfast done, I rose almost readily, and went back again to the bridge that leads to the gates. For, the fight is begun and loitering looks like laggardness.
Finding myself in the road that led to my street, Maitland Street, and opposite a small newspaper-stationer's, I went in and invested in a pen, nibs, ink and paper. These were my weapons. Then I proceeded on home: went upstairs: found my bed already made (which was pleasing): put my weapons on the table, myself into the chair and, tilted back, began to consider.
I had seen somewhere or other that Byron received £500 or so for his shorter pieces, 'The Bride of Abydos,'
