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You could write to the Governor of Wandsworth Prison to ask my permission to publish my letters in the Mercure de France, “corresponding to our English Fortnightly Review.” Why not have written to the Governor of the Prison at Reading to ask my permission to dedicate your poems to me, whatever fantastic description you may have chosen to give of them? Was it because in the one case the magazine in question had been prohibited by me from publishing letters, the legal copyright of which, as you are of course perfectly well aware, was and is vested entirely in me, and in the other you thought that you could enjoy the wilfulness of your own way without my knowing anything about it till it was too late to interfere? The mere fact that I was a man disgraced, ruined, and in prison should have made you, if you desired to write my name on the fore-page of your work, beg it of me as a favour, an honour, a privilege[52a]. That is the way in which one should approach those who are in distress and sit in shame.
你那次可以写信给瓦兹华斯监狱的狱长，征求我的许可把我的信发在“相当于我们英国的《双周评论》”的《法兰西信使》上，为什么这次就不能写信给雷丁的监狱长，征求我的许可，让你把诗题献给我呢？不管你把那些诗说得怎样天花乱坠。是不是因为在那件事上我禁止了有关的杂志发表我的信件，而你当然是再清楚不过了，信的版权那时是、现在还是完全地归我所有；而在这件事上你以为可以不管我，随心所欲地做去，等我知道了要干涉也太晚了？我现在是个蒙羞受辱、穷途潦倒、身陷囹圄之人。单凭这一点，你要是有意要在你作品的扉页写上我的名字，就应该求我予你这个方便、给你这份荣耀、授你这项特权[52a]。一个人本该这样跟那些含垢忍辱的人们商量的。
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