Note 7 — ESSAY VI ON PERSONAL IDENTITY
Reading edition
When Lord Byron was cut by the great, on account of his quarrel with his wife, he stood leaning on a marble slab at the entrance of a room, while troops of duchesses and countesses passed out. One little, pert, red-haired girl staid a few paces behind the rest; and, as she passed him, said with a nod, ‘Aye, you should have married me, and then all this wouldn’t have happened to you!’