Life; with his letters and journals

LIFE

OF

LORD BYRON

VOL. IV.

LIFE

OF

LORD BYRON:

WITH HIS LETTERS AND JOURNALS.

BY THOMAS MOORE, ESQ.

IN SIX VOLUMES. — VOL. IV.

NEW EDITION.

LONDON:

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1854.

PR

4377

LONDON:

SPOTTISWOODES and SHAW,
New- street- Square.

CONTENTS OF YOL, IV.

LETTERS AND JOURNALS OF LORD BYRON, with NOTICES OP
HIS LIFE, from April, 1817, to October, 1820.

NOTICES

LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

LETTER 272. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Venice, April 9. 1817.

" YOUR letters of the 18th and 20th are arrived.
In my own I have given you the rise, progress, de-
cline, and fall, of my recent malady. It is gone to
the devil : I won't pay him so bad a compliment as to
say it came from him ; — he is too much of a gentle-
man. It was nothing but a slow fever, which quick-
ened its pace towards the end of its journey. I had
been bored with it some weeks — with nocturnal
burnings and morning perspirations ; but I am quite
well again, which I attribute to having had neither
medicine nor doctor thereof.

" In a few days I set off for Rome : such is my pur-
pose. I shall change it very often before Monday
next, but do you continue to direct and address to
Venice, as heretofore. If I go, letters will be for-
warded : I say ' if, ' because I never know what I
shall do till it is done ; and as I mean most firmly to

VOL. IV. B

2 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

set out for Rome, it is not unlikely I may find myself
at St. Petersburg.

" You tell me to * take care of myself;' — faith,
and I will. I won't be posthumous yet, if I can help
it. Notwithstanding, only think what a * Life and
Adventures,' while I am in full scandal, would be
worth, together with the « membra' of my writing-
desk, the sixteen beginnings of poems never to be
finished ! Do you think I would not have shot myself
last year, had I not luckily recollected that Mrs. C * *
and Lady N * *, and all the old women in England
would have been delighted ; — besides the agreeable
* Lunacy,' of the ' Crowner's Quest,' and the regrets
of two or three or half a dozen ? Be assured that I
ivould live for two reasons, or more ; — there are one
or two people whom I have to put out of the world,
and as many into it, before I can { depart in peace ;'
if I do so before, I have not fulfilled my mission.
Besides, when I turn thirty, I will turn devout ; I
feel a great vocation that way in Catholic churches,
and when I hear the organ.

" So * * is writing again ! Is there no Bedlam in
Scotland? nor thumb-screw ? nor gag? nor hand-
cuff? I went upon my knees to him almost, some years
ago, to prevent him from publishing a political
pamphlet, which would have given him a livelier
idea of « Habeas Corpus* than the world will derive
from his present production upon that suspended
subject, which will doubtless be followed by the
suspension of other of his Majesty's subjects.
" 1 condole with Drury Lane and rejoice with * *,

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 3

— that is, in a modest way, — on the tragical end of
the new tragedy.

" You and Leigh Hunt have quarrelled then, it
seems ? I introduce him and his poem to you, in
the hope that (malgre politics) the union would be
beneficial to both, and the end is eternal enmity ;
and yet I did this with the best intentions : I intro-
duce * * *, and * * * runs away with your money:
my friend Hobhouse quarrels, too, with the Quar-
terly : and (except the last) I am the innocent
Istmhus (damn the word ! I can't spell it, though I
have crossed that of Corinth a dozen times) of these
enmities.

" I will tell you something about Chillon. — A
Mr. De Luc, ninety years old, a Swiss, had it read
to him, and is pleased with it, — so my sister writes.
He said that he was with Rousseau at Chillon^
and that the description is perfectly correct. But
this is not all : I recollected something of the name,
and find the following passage in « The Confessions,'
vol. iii. page 247. liv. viii. : — •

" * De tous ces amusemens celui qui me plut da-
vantage fut une promenade autour du Lac, que je
fis en bateau avecZteZ«epere, sa bru, ses deuxfils,
et ma Therese. Nous mimes sept jours a cette
tournee par le plus beau temps du monde. J'en
gardai le vif souvenir des sites qui m'avoient frappe
a 1'autre extremite du Lac, et dont je fis la descrip-
tion, quelques annees apres, dans la Nouvelle
Heloise.'

" This nonagenarian, De Luc, must be one of the
« deux fils.' He is in England — infirm, but still io
B 2

4 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

faculty. It is odd that he should have lived so long,
and not wanting in oddness that he should have
made this voyage with Jean Jacques, and afterwards,
at such an interval, read a poem by an Englishman
(who had made precisely the same circumnavigation)
upon the same scenery.

" As for * Manfred,' it is of no use sending proofs;
nothing of that kind comes. I sent the whole at dif-
ferent times. The two first Acts are the best ; the
third so so ; but I was blown with the first and second
heats. You must call it ' a Poem/ for it is no
Drama, and I do not choose to have it called by so
* * a name — a ' Poem in dialogue/ or — Pantomime,
if you will ; any thing but a green-room synonyme ;
and this is your motto —

" « There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'

" Yours ever, &c.
" My love and thanks to Mr.Gifford."

LETTER 273. TO MR. MOORE.

"Venice, April 11. 1817.

" I shall continue to write to you while the fit is
on me, by way of penance upon you for your former
complaints of long silence. I dare say you would
blush, if you could, for not answering. Next week I
set out for Rome. Having seen Constantinople, I
should like to look at t'other fellow. Besides, I want
to see the Pope, and shall take care to tell him that
I vote for the Catholics and no Veto.

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYROX. 5

" I sha'n't go to Naples. It is but the second best
sea-view, and I have seen the first and third, viz.
Constantinople and Lisbon, (by the way, the last is
but a river-view ; however, they reckon it after
Stamboul and Naples, and before Genoa,) and Vesu-
vius is silent, and I have passed by ^Etna. So I
shall e'en return to Venice in July ; and if you write,
I pray you to address to Venice, which is my head,
or rather my heart, quarters.

" My late physician, Dr. Polidori, is here on his
way to England, with the present Lord G * * and the
widow of the late earl. Dr. Polidori has, just
now, no more patients, because his patients are no
more. He had lately three, who are now all dead —
one embalmed. Horner and a child of Thomas
Hope's are interred at Pisa and Rome. Lord G * *
died of an inflammation of the bowels: so they took
them out, and sent them (on account of their discre-
pancies), separately from the carcass, to England.
Conceive a man going one way, and his intestines
another, and his immortal soul a third ! — was there
ever such a distribution ? One certainly has a soul ;
but how it came to allow itself to be enclosed in a
body is more than I can imagine. I only know if
once mine gets out, I'll have a bit of a tussle before
I let it get in again to that or any other.

" And so poor dear Mr. Maturin's second tragedy
has been neglected by the discerning public ! * *
will be d — d glad of this, and d — d without being
glad, if ever his own plays come upon « any stage.'

" I wrote to Rogers the other day, with a mes-
sage for you. I hope that he flourishes. He is the

6 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

Tithonus of poetry — immortal already. You and
I must wait for it.

" I hear nothing — know nothing. You may
easily suppose that the English don't seek me, and
I avoid them. To be sure, there are but few or
none here, save passengers. Florence and Naples
are their Margate and Ramsgate, and much the
same sort of company too, by all accounts, which
hurts us among the Italians.

" I want to hear of Lalla Rookh — are you out?
Death and fiends ! why don't you tell me where
you are, what you are, and how you are ? I shall
go to Bologna by Ferrara, instead of Mantua : be-
cause I would rather see the cell where they caged
Tasso, and where he became mad and * *, than his
own MSS. at Modena, or the Mantuan birthplace of
that harmonious plagiary and miserable flatterer,
whose cursed hexameters were drilled into me at
Harrow. I saw Verona and Vicenza on my way
here — Padua too.

" I go alone, — but alone, because I mean to re-
turn here. I only want to see Rome. I have not
the least curiosity about Florence, though I must
see it for the sake of the Venus, £c. &c. ; and I wish
also to see the Fall of Terni. I think to return to
Venice by Ravenna and Rimini, of both of which I
mean to take notes for Leigh Hunt, who will be
glad to hear of the scenery of his Poem. There
was a devil of a review of him in the Quarterly, a
year ago, which he answered. All answers are im-
prudent : but, to be sure, poetical flesh and blood
must have the last word — that's certain. I thought,,

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 7

and think, very highly of his Poem ; but I warned
him of the row his favourite antique phraseology
would bring him into.

" You have taken a house at Hornsey : I had
much rather you had taken one in the Apennines.
If you think of coming out for a summer, or so, tell
me, that I may be upon the hover for you.

« Ever," &c.

LETTER 274. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Venice, April 14. 1817.

" By the favour of Dr. Polidori, who is here on
his way to England with the present Lord G * *,
(the late earl having gone to England by another
road, accompanied by his bowels in a separate cof-
fer,) I remit to you, to deliver to Mrs. Leigh, two
miniatures ; but previously you will have the good-
ness to desire Mr. Love (as a peace-offering between
him and me) to set them in plain gold, with my
arms complete, and < Painted by Prepiani — Venice,
1817,' on the back. I wish also that you would
desire Holmes to make a copy of each — that is, both
— for myself, and that you will retain the said copies
till my return. One was done while I was very
unwell ; the other in my health, which may account
for their dissimilitude. I trust that they will reach
their destination in safety.

" I recommend the Doctor to your good offices
with your government friends ; and if you can be
of any use to him in a literary point of view, pray
be so.

8 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

" To-day, or rather yesterday, for it is past mid-
night, I have been up to the battlements of the
highest tower in Venice, and seen it and its view,
in all the glory of a clear Italian sky. I also went
over the Manfrini Palace, famous for its pictures.
Amongst them, there is a portrait of Ariosto by
Titian, surpassing all my anticipation of the power
of painting or human expression ; it is the poetry of
„ portrait, and the portrait of poetry. There was also
one of some learned lady, centuries old, whose name
I forget, but whose features must always be remem-
bered. J never saw greater beauty, or sweetness,
or wisdom : — it is the kind of face to go mad for,
because it cannot walk out of its frame. There is
also a famous dead Christ and live Apostles, for
which Buonaparte offered in vain five thousand
louis ; and of which, though it is a capo d'opera of
Titian, as I am no connoisseur, I say little, and
thought less, except of one figure in it. There are
ten thousand others, and some very fine Giorgiones
amongst them, &c. &c. There is an original Laura
and Petrarch, very, hideous both. Petrarch has not
only the dress, but the features and air of an old woman,
and Laura looks by no means like a young one, or a
pretty one. What struck me most in the general
collection was the extreme resemblance of the style
of the female faces in the mass of pictures, so many
centuries or generations old, to those you see and
meet every day among the existing Italians. The
queen of Cyprus and Giorgione's wife, particularly
the latter, are Venetians as it were of yesterday ;

1817. I'IFE OF LORD BYRON. 9

the same eyes and expression, and, to my mind,
there is none finer.

" You must recollect, however, that I know no-
thing of painting ; and that I detest it, unless it
reminds me of something I have seen, or think it
possible to see, for which reason I spit upon and
abhor all the Saints and subjects of one half the
impostures I see in the churches and palaces ; and
when in Flanders, I never was so disgusted in my
life, as with Rubens and his eternal wives and infer-
nal glare of colours, as they appeared to me ; and in
Spain I did not think much of Murillo and Velas-
quez. Depend upon it, of all the arts, it is the
most artificial and unnatural, and that by which the
nonsense of mankind is most imposed upon. I never
yet saw the picture or the statue which came a
league within my conception or expectation ; but I
have seen many mountains, and seas, and rivers, and
views, and two or three women, who went as far be-
yond it, — besides some horses ; and a lion (at Veli
Pacha's) in the Morea ; and a tiger at supper in
Exeter Change.

" When you write, continue to address to me at
Venice. Where do you suppose the books you sent
to me are ? At Turin ! This comes of * the Foreign
Office] which is foreign enough, God knows, for any
good it can be of to me, or any one else, and be
d — d to it, to its last clerk and first charlatan,
Castlereagh.

" This makes my hundredth letter at least.

« Yours," &c.

10 NOTICES OF THE 181",.

LETTER 275. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Venice, April 14. 1817.

" The present proofs (of the whole) begin only
at the 17th page ; but as I had corrected and sent
back the first Act, it does not signify.

" The third Act is certainly d — d bad, and, like the
Archbishop of Grenada's homily (which savoured of
the palsy), has the dregs of my fever, during which
it was written. It must on no account be published
in its present state. I will try and reform it, or re-
write it altogether ; but the impulse is gone, and I
have no chance of making any thing out of it. I
would not have it published as it is on any account.
The speech of Manfred to the Sun is the only part
of this act I thought good myself; the rest is cer-
tainly as bad as bad can be, and I wonder what
the devil possessed me.

" I am very glad indeed that you sent me Mr.
Gifford's opinion without deduction. Do you sup-
pose me such a booby as not to be very much
obliged to him ? or that in fact I was not, and am
not, convinced and convicted in my conscience of
this same overt act of nonsense ?

" I shall try at it again : in the mean time, lay it
upon the shelf (the whole Drama, I mean) : but
pray correct your copies of the first and second
Acts from the original MS.

" I am not coming to England; but going to Rome
in a few days. I return to Venice in June ; so, pray,
address all letters, &c. to me here, as usual, that is,
to Venice. Dr. Polidori this day left this city with

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 11

Lord G * * for England. He is charged with some
books to your care (from me), and two miniatures
also to the same address, both for my sister.

" Recollect not to publish, upon pain of I know
not what, until I have tried again at the third Act.
I am not sure that I shall try, and still less that I
shall succeed, if I do; but I am very sure, that (as
it is) it is unfit for publication or perusal ; and unless
I can make it out to my own satisfaction, I won't
have any part published.

" I write in haste, and after having lately written
very often. Yours/' &c.

LETTER 276. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Foligno, April 26. 1817.

" I wrote to you the other day from Florence, in-
closing a MS. entitled * The Lament of Tasso.' It
was written in consequence of my having been lately
at Ferrara. In the last section of this MS. but one
(that is, the penultimate), I think that I have omitted
a line in the copy sent to you from Florence, viz.
after the line —

" And woo compassion to a blighted name,
insert,

c< Sealing the sentence which my foes proclaim.

The context will show you the sense, which is not
clear in this quotation. Remember, I write this in
the supposition that you have received my Florentine
packet.

12 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

" At Florence I remained but a day, having a
hurry for Rome, to which I am thus far advanced.
However, I went to the two galleries, from which
one returns drunk with beauty. The Venus is more
for admiration than love ; but there are sculpture
and painting, which for the first time at all gave me
an idea of what people mean by their cant, and what
Mr. Braham calls * entusimusy ' (i. e. enthusiasm)
about those two most artificial of the arts. What
struck me most were, the mistress of Raphael, a
portrait ; the mistress of Titian, a portrait ; a Venus
of Titian in the Medici gallery — the Venus ; Cano-
va's Venus also in the other gallery: Titian's mistress
is also in the other gallery (that is, in the Pitti
Palace gallery) : the Parcae of Michael Angelo, a
picture: and the Antinous, the Alexander, and
one or two not very decent groups in marble ; the
Genius of Death, a sleeping figure, &c. &c.

" I also went to the Medici chapel — fine frippery
in great slabs of various expensive stones, to com-
memorate fifty rotten and forgotten carcasses. It is
unfinished, and will remain so.

" The church of ' Santa Croce ' contains much
illustrious nothing. The tombs of Machiavelli,
Michael Angelo, Galileo Galilei, and Alfieri, make
it the Westminster Abbey of Italy. I did not
admire any of these tombs — beyond their contents.
That of Alfieri is heavy, and all of them seem to me
overloaded. What is necessary but a bust and
name ? and perhaps a date ? the last for the unchro-
nological, of whom I am one. But all your allegory
and eulogy is infernal, and worse than the long wigs

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 13

of" English numskulls upon Roman bodies in the
statuary of the reigns of Charles II., William, and
Anne.

" When you write, write to Venice, as usual ; I
mean to return there in a fortnight. I shall not be
in England for a long time. This afternoon I met
Lord and Lady Jersey, and saw them for some time :
all well ; children grown and healthy ; she very
pretty, but sunburnt ; he very sick of travelling ;
bound for Paris. There are not many English on
the move, and those who are, mostly homewards. I
shall not return till business makes me, being much
better where I am in health, &c. &c.

" For the sake of my personal comfort, I pray you
send me immediately to Venice — mind, Venice — viz.
Waites tooth-powder, red, a quantity ; calcined mag-
nesia, of the best quality, a quantity ; and all this by
safe, sure, and speedy means ; and, by the Lord !
do it.

" I have done nothing at Manfred's third Act.
You must wait ; I'll have at it in a week or two, or
so. Yours ever," &c.

LETTER 277. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Rome, May 5. 1817.

" By this post (or next at farthest) I send you in
two other covers, the new third Act of ' Manfred.'
I have re-written the greater part, and returned
what is not altered in the proof you sent me. The
Abbot is become a good man, and the Spirits are
brought in at the death. You will find I think,

14? NOTICES OF THE 1817.

some good poetry in this new act, here and there ;
and if so, print it, without sending me farther proofs,
under Mr. GifforcTs correction, if he will have the
goodness to overlook it. Address all answers to
Venice, as usual ; I mean to return there in ten
days.

" * The Lament of Tasso,' which I sent from Flo-
rence, has, I trust, arrived : I look upon it as a
4 these be good rhymes,' as Pope's papa said to him
when he was a boy. For the two — it and the
Drama — you will disburse to me (via Kinnaird) six
hundred guineas. You will perhaps be surprised
that I set the same price upon this as upon the
Drama ; but, besides that I look upon it as good, I
won't take less than three hundred guineas for any
thing. The two together will make you a larger
publication than the * Siege' and ' Parisina ;' so
you may think yourself let off very easy : that is to
say, if these poems are good for any thing, which I
hope and believe.

" I have been some days in Rome the Wonderful.
I am seeing sights, and have done nothing else, ex-
cept the new third Act for you. I have this
morning seen a live pope and a dead cardinal :
Pius VII. has been burying Cardinal Bracchi, whose
body I saw in state at the Chiesa Nuova. Rome
has delighted me beyond every thing, since Athens
and Constantinople. But I shall not remain long
this visit. Address to Venice.

« Ever, &c.

" P. S. I have got my saddle-horses here, and
have ridden, and am riding, all about the country."

1817.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

15

From the foregoing letters to Mr. Murray, we may
collect some curious particulars respecting one of
the most original and sublime of the noble poet's
productions, the Drama of Manfred. His failure
(and to an extent of which the reader shall be en-
abled presently to judge), in the completion of
a design which he had, through two Acts, so mag-
nificently carried on, — the impatience with which,
though conscious of this failure, he as usual hurried
to the press, without deigning to woo, or wait for,
a happier moment of inspiration, — his frank docility
in, at once, surrendering up his third Act to repro-
bation, without urging one parental word in its be-
half,— the doubt he evidently felt, whether, from
his habit of striking off these creations at a heat,
he should be able to rekindle his imagination on the
subject, — and then, lastly, the complete success with
which, when his mind did make the spring, he at
once cleared the whole space by which he before
fell short of perfection, — all these circumstances,
connected with the production of this grand poem,
lay open to us features, both of his disposition and
genius, in the highest degree interesting, and such as
there is a pleasure, second only to that of perusing
the poem itself, in contemplating.

As a literary curiosity, and, still more, as a lesson
to genius, never to rest satisfied with imperfection
or mediocrity, but to labour on till even failures are
converted into triumphs, I shall here transcribe the
third Act, in its original shape, as first sent to the
publisher : —

16 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

ACT III. — SCENE I.

A Hall in the Castle of Manfred.
MANFRED and HERMAN.

Man. What is the hour ?

Her. It wants but ane till sunset,

And promises a lovely twilight.

Man. Say,

Are all things so disposed of in the tower
As I directed ?

Her. All, my lord, are ready :

Here is the key and casket.

Man. It is well :

Thou may'st retire. [Exit HERMAW.

Man. (alone. ) There is a calm upon me —
Inexplicable stillness ! which till now
Did not belong to what I knew of life.
If that I did not know philosophy
To be of all our vanities the motliest,
The merest word that ever fool'd the ear
From out the schoolman's jargon, I should deem
The golden secret, the sought ' Kalon,' found,
And seated in my soul. It will not last,
But it is well to have known it, though but once :
It hath enlarged my thoughts with a new sense,
And I within my tablets would note down
That there is such a feeling. Who is there ?

Re-enter HERMAN.

Her. My lord, the Abbot of St. Maurice craves
To greet your presence.

Enter the ABBOT OF ST. MAURICE.
Abbot. Peace be with Count Manfred J

Man. Thanks, holy father ! welcome to these walls ;

Thy presence honours them, and blesseth those

Who dwell within them.

Abbot. Would it were so, Count 1

But I would fain confer with thee alone.

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 17

Man. Herman, retire. What would my reverend guest ?

[Exit HERMAN.

Abbot. Thus, without prelude : — Age and zeal, my office,
And good intent, must plead my privilege ;
Our near, though not acquainted neighbourhood,
May also be ,my herald. Rumours strange,
And of unholy nature, are abroad,
And busy with thy name — a noble name
For centuries ; may he who bears it now
Transmit it unimpair'd.

Man. Proceed, — I listen.

Abbot. 'Tis said thou holdest converse with the things
Which are forbidden to the search of man ;
That with the dwellers of the dark abodes,
The many evil and unheavenly spirits
Which walk, the valley of the shade of death,
Thou communest. I know that with mankind,
Thy fellows in creation, thou dost rarely
Exchange thy thoughts, and that thy solitude
Is as an anchorite's, were it but holy,

Man. And what are they who do avouch these things ?

Abbot. My pious brethren — the scared peasantry —
Even thy own vassals — who do look on thee
With most unquiet eyes. Thy life 's in peril.

Man. Take it.

Abbot. I come to save, and not destroy —

I would not pry into thy secret soul ;
But if these things be sooth, there still is time
For penitence and pity : reconcile thee
With the true church, and through the church to heaven.

Man. I hear thee. This is my reply ; Whate'er
I may have been, or am, doth rest between
Heaven and myself. — I shall not choose a mortal
To be my mediator. Have I sinn'd
Against your ordinances ? prove and punish ! *

* It will be perceived that, as far as this, the original matter
of the third Act has been retained.
VOL. IV. C

18 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

Abbot. Then, hear and tremble ! For the headstrong wretch
Who in the mail of innate hardihood
Would shield himself, and battle for his sins,
There is the stake on earth, and beyond earth eternal — — —

Man. Charity, most reverend father,
Becomes thy lips so much more than this menace,
That I would call thee back to it ; but say,
What wouldst thou with me?

Abbot. It may be there are

Things that would shake thee — but I keep them back,
And give thee till to-morrow to repent.
Then if thou dost not all devote thyself
To penance, and with gift of all thy lands
To the monastery

Man. I understand thee, — well !

Abbot. Expect no mercy ; I have warned thee.

Man. (opening the casket.) Stop —
There is a gift for thee within this casket.

[MANFRED opens the casket, strikes a light, and burnt

some incense.
Ho! Ashtaroth!

The DEMON ASHTAROTH appears, singing as follows: —
The raven sits

On the raven-stone,
And his black wing flits

O'er the milk-white bone ;
To and fro, as the night-winds blow,

The carcass of the assassin swings ;
And there alone, on the raven-stone*,

The raven flaps his dusky wings.

The fetters creak — and his ebon beak
Croaks to the close of the hollow sound ;

* " Raven-stone (Rabenstein), a translation of the German
word for the gibbet, which in Germany and Switzerland is
permanent, and made of stone."

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 19

And this is the tune by the light of the moon
To which the witches dance their round —

Merrily, merrily, cheerily, cheerily,
Merrily, speeds the ball :

The dead in their shrouds, and the demons in clouds,
Flock to the witches' carnival.

Abbot. I fear thee not — hence — hence —
Avaunt thee, evil one ! — help, ho ! without there !

Man. Convey this man to the Shreckhorn — to its peak —
To its extremest peak — watch with him there
From now till sunrise ; let him gaze, and know
He ne'er again will be so near to heaven.
But harm him not ; and, when the morrow breaks,
Set him down safe in his cell — away with him !

Ash. Had I not better bring his brethren too,
Convent and all, to bear him company ?

Man. No, this will serve for the present. Take him up.

Ash. Come, friar ! now an exorcism or two,
And we shall fly the lighter.

ASHTAROTH disappears with the ABBOT, singing as follows • — •
A prodigal son and a maid undone,

And a widow re- wedded within the year ;
And a worldly monk and a pregnant nun,

Are things which every day appear.

MANFRED alone.

Man. Why would this fool break in on me, and force
My art to pranks fantastical ? — no matter,
It was not of my seeking. My heart sickens,
And weighs a fix'd foreboding on my soul j
But it is calm — calm as a sullen sea
After the hurricane ; the winds are still,
But the cold waves swell high and heavily,
And there is danger in them. Such a rest
Is no repose. My life hath been a combat.
And every thought a wound, till I am scarr'd
In the immortal part of me What now ?

c 2

20 NOTICES Of THE 1817.

Re-enter HERMAN.

Her. My lord, you bade me wait on you at sunset :
He sinks behind the mountain.

Man. Doth he so ?

J will look on him.

[MANFRED advances to the window of the hall.

Glorious orb ! * the idol
Of early nature, and the vigorous race
Of undiseased mankind, the giant sons
Of the embrace of angels, with a sex
More beautiful than they, which did draw down
The erring spirits who can ne'er return. —
Most glorious orb ! that wert a worship, ere
The mystery of thy making was reveal'd !
Thou earliest minister of the Almighty,
Which gladden'd, on their mountain tops, the hearts
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they pour'd
Themselves in prisons ! Thou material God !
And representative of the Unknown —
Who chose thee for his shadow ! Thou chief star !
Centre of many stars ! which mak'st our earth
Endurable, and temperest the hues
And hearts of all who walk within thy rays !
Sire of the seasons ! Monarch of the climes,
And those who dwell in them ! for, near or far,
Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee,
Even as our outward aspects ; — thou dost rise,
And shine, and set in glory. Fare thee well !
I ne'er shall see thee more. As my first glance
Of love and wonder was for thee, then take
My latest look : thou wilt not beam on one
To whom the gifts of life and warmth have been
Of a more fatal nature. He is gone :
I follow. [Exit MANFRED.

* This fine soliloquy, and a great part of the subsequent
scene, have, it is hardly necessary to remark, been retained in
the present form of the Drama.

1817.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

21

SCENE II.

The Mountains — The Castle of Manfred at some distance —
Terrace before a Tower — Time, Twilight.

HERMAN, MANUEL, and other Dependants of MANFRED.

Her. 'Tis strange enough ; night -^fter night, for years,
He hath pursued long vigils in this tower,
Without a witness. I have been within it, —
So have we all been oft-times ; but from it,
Or its contents, it were impossible
To draw conclusions absolute of aught
His studies tend to. To be sure, there is
One chamber where none enter ; I would give
The fee of what I have to come these three years,
To pore upon its mysteries.

ManueL 'Twere dangerous ;

Content thyself with what thou know'st already.

Her. Ah ! Manuel ! thou art elderly and wise,
And couldst say much ; thou hast dwelt within the castle —
How many years is't ?

Manuel. Ere Count Manfred's birth,

I served his father, whom he nought resembles.

Her. There be more sons in like predicament.
But wherein do they differ ?

Manuel. I speak not

Of features or of form, but mind and habits :
Count Sigismund was proud, — but gay and free, —
A warrior and a reveller ; he dwelt not
With books and solitude, nor made the night
A gloomy vigil, but a festal time,
Merrier than day ; he did not walk the rocks
And forests like a wolf, nor turn aside
From men and their delights.

Her. Beshrew the hour,

But those were jocund times ! I would that such
Would visit the old walls again ; they look
As if they had forgotten them.

c 3

22 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

Manuel These walls

Must change their chieftain first. Oh ! I have seen
Some strange things in these few years.*

Her. Come, be friendly ;

Relate me some, to while away our watch :
I've heard thee darkly speak of an event
Which happened hereabouts, by this same tower.

Manuel-. That was a night indeed ! I do remember
*Twas twilight, as it may be now, and such
Another evening ; — yon red cloud, which rests
On Eigher's pinnacle, so rested then, —
So like that it might be the same ; the wind
Was faint and gusty, and the mountain snows
Began to glitter with the climbing moon ;
Count Manfred was, as now, within his tower, — -
How occupied, we knew not, but with him
The sole companion of his wanderings
And watchings — her, whom of all earthly things
That lived, the only thing he seemed to love, — -
As he, indeed, by blood was bound to do,
The lady Astarte, his —

Her. Look — look — the tower —

The tower's on fire. Oh, heavens and earth ! what sound,
What dreadful sound is that ? [A crash like thunder.

Manuel. Help, help, there ! — to the rescue of the Count, —
The Count's in danger, — what ho ! there ! approach !

[The Servants, Vassals, and Peasantry approach, stupified

with terror.

If there be any of you who have heart
And love of human kind, and will to aid
Those in distress — pause not — but follow me —
The portal's open, follow. [MANUEL goes in.

Her. Come — who follows ?

What, none of ye ? — ye recreants ! shiver then

* Altered in the present form, to 4< some strange things in
them, Herman."

1817.

LIFE OF LOUD BYRON.

Without. I will not see old Manuel risk

His few remaining years unaided. [HERMAN goes in.

Vassal. Hark ! —

No — all is silent — not a breath — the flame
Which shot forth such a blaze is also gone ;
What may this mean ? Let's enter !

Peasant. Faith, not I, —

Not that, if one, or two, or more, will join,
I then will stay behind ; but, for my part,
I do not see precisely to what end.

Vassal. Cease your vain prating — come.

Manuel, (speaking within.) 'Tis all in vain —

He's dead.

Her. (within-} Not so — even now methought he moved;
But it is dark — so bear him gently out —
Softly — how cold he is ! take care of his temples
In winding down the staircase.

Re-enter MANUEL and HERMAN, bearing MANFRED in their arms.

Manuel. Hie to the castle, some of ye, and bring
What aid you can. Saddle the barb, and speed
For the leech to the city — quick ! some water there !
Her. His cheek is black — but there is a faint beat
Still lingering about the heart. Some water.

[They sprinkle MANFRED with water ; after a pause,

he gives some signs of life.
Manuel He seems to strive to speak — come — cheerly,

Count !

He moves his lips — canst hear him? I am old,
And cannot catch faint sounds.

[HERMAN inclining his head and listening.
Her. I hear a word

Or two — but indistinctly — what is next?
What's to be done? let's bear him to the castle.

[MANFRED motions with his hand not to remove him.
Manuel. He disapproves — and 'twere of no avail —
He changes rapidly.

Her. 'Twill soon be over.

C 4

24" NOTICES OF THE 1817.

Manuel. Oh ! what a death is this ! that I should live
To shake my gray hairs over the last chief
Of the house of Sigismund. — And such a death !
Alone — we know not how — unshrived — untended —
With strange accompaniments and fearful signs —
1 shudder at the sight — but must not leave him.

Manfred, (speaking faintly and slowly.) Old man ! 'tis not so
difficult to die. [MANFRED having said this expires.

Her. His eyes are fixed and lifeless. — He is gone. —

Manuel. Close them. — My old hand quivers. — He de-
parts—
Whither ? I dread to think — but he is gone !

LETTER 278. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Rome, May 9. 1817.

" Address all answers to Venice ; for there I shall
return in fifteen days, God willing.

" I sent you from Florence « The Lament of Tasso,*
and from Rome the third Act of Manfred, both of
which, I trust, will duly arrive. The terms of these
two I mentioned in my last, and will repeat in this .
it is three hundred for each, or six hundred guineas
for the two — that is, if you like, and they are good
for any thing.

" At last one of the parcels is arrived. In the
.notes to Childe Harold there is a blunder of yours
or mine : you talk of arrival at St. Gingo, and, im-
mediately after, add — 'on the height is the Cha-
teau of Clarens.' This is sad work : Clarens is on
the other side of the Lake, and it is quite impossible
that I should have so bungled. Look at the MS. ;
and at any rate rectify it.

1817.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 25

« The « Tales of my Landlord ' I have read with
great pleasure, and perfectly understand now why my
sister and aunt are so very positive in the very erro-
neous persuasion that they must have been written
by me. If you knew me as well as they do, you
would have fallen, perhaps, into the same mistake.
Some day or other, I will explain to you why — when
I have time ; at present, it does not much matter ;
but you must have thought this blunder of theirs
very odd, and so did I, till I had read the book*
Croker's letter to you is a very great compliment ; I
shall return it to you in my next.

" I perceive you are publishing a Life of Raffael
d'Urbino : it may perhaps interest you to hear that
a set of German artists here allow their hair to
grow, and trim it into his fashion, thereby drinking
the cummin of the disciples of the old philosopher ; if
they would cut their hair, convert it into brushes,
and paint like him, it would be more < German to
the matter.'

" I'll tell you a story: the other day, a man here —
an English — mistaking the statues of Charlemagne
and Constantine, which are equestrian, for those of
Peter and Paul, asked another which was Paul of
these same horsemen ? — to which the reply was,
— < I thought, sir, that St. Paul had never got on
horseback since his accident 9 '

" I'll tell you another : Henry Fox, writing to some
one from Naples the other day, after an illness, adds
— ' and I am so changed, that my oldest creditors
would hardly know me.'

" I am delighted with Rome — as I would be with

26 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

a bandbox, that is, it is a fine thing to see, finer than
Greece ; but I have not been here long enough to
affect it as a residence, and I must go back to Lom-
bardy, because I am wretched at being away from
Marianna. I have been riding my saddle-horses
every day, and been to Albano, its Lakes, and to
the top of the Alban Mount, and to Frescati, Aricia,
£c. &c. with an &c. &c. &c. about the city, and in the
city : for all which — vide Guide-book. As a whole,
ancient and modern, it beats Greece, Constantinople,
every thing — at least that I have ever seen. But I
can't describe, because my first impressions are
always strong and confused, and my memory selects
and reduces them to order, like distance in the land-
scape, and blends them better, although they may
be less distinct. There must be a sense or two more
than we have, us mortals ; for ***** where there
is much to be grasped we are always at a loss, and
yet feel that we ought to have a higher and more
extended comprehension.

" I have had a letter from Moore, who is in some
alarm about his poem. I don't see why.

" I have had another from my poor dear Augusta,
who is in a sad fuss about my late illness ; do, pray,
tell her (the truth) that I am better than ever, and
in importunate health, growing (if not grown) large
and ruddy, and congratulated by impertinent per-
sons on my robustious appearance, when I ought to
be pale and interesting.

" You tell me that George Byron has got a son,
and Augusta says, a daughter; which is it? — it is
no great matter : the father is a good man, an ex-

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 27

cellent officer, and has married a very nice little
woman, who will bring him more babes than income ;
howbeit she had a handsome dowry, and is a very
charming girl ; — but he may as well get a ship.

" I have no thoughts of coming amongst you yet
awhile, so that I can fight off business. If I could
but make a tolerable sale of Newstead, there would
be no occasion for my return ; and I can assure you
very sincerely, that I am much happier (or, at least,
have been so) out of your island than in it.

" Yours ever.

" P. S. There are few English here, but several of
my acquaintance ; amongst others, the Marquis of
Lansdowne, with whom I dine to-morrow. I met
the Jerseys on the road at Foligno — all well.

« Oh — I forgot — the Italians have printed Chillon,
&c. a piracy, — a pretty little edition, prettier than
yours — and published, as I found to my great
astonishment on arriving here ; and what is odd, is,
that the English is quite correctly printed. Why
they did it, or who did it, I know not ; but so it is ;
— I suppose, for the English people. I will send
you a copy."

LETTER 279. TO MR. MOORE.

" Rome, May 12. 1817.

" I have received your letter here, where I have
taken a cruise lately; but I shall return back to
Venice in a few days, so that if you write again,
address there, as usual. I am not for returning to

28 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

England so soon as you imagine ; and by no means
at all as a residence. If you cross the Alps in your
projected expedition, you will find me somewhere
in Lombardy, and very glad to see you. Only give
me a word or two beforehand, for I would readily
diverge some leagues to meet you.

" Of Rome I say nothing ; it is quite indescrib-
able, and the Guide-book is as good as any other.
I dined yesterday with Lord Lansdowne, who is
on his return. But there are few English here at
present ; the winter is their time. I have been
on horseback most of the day, all days since my
arrival, and have taken it as I did Constantinople.
But Rome is the elder sister, and the finer. I went
some days ago to the top of the Alban Mount,
which is superb. As for the Coliseum, Pantheon,
St. Peter's, the Vatican, Palatine, &c. &c. — as I
said, vide Guide-book. They are quite inconceivable,
and must be seen. The Apollo Belvidere is the image
of Lady Adelaide Forbes — I think I never saw such
a likeness.

" I have seen the Pope alive, and a cardinal dead,
— both of whom looked very well indeed. The
latter was in state in the Chiesa Nuova, previous to
his interment.

" Your poetical alarms are groundless ; go on and
prosper. Here is Hobhouse just come in, and my
horses at the door, so that I must mount and take
the field in the Campus Martius, which, by the way,
is all built over by modern Rome.

" Yours very and ever, &c.

J817. "IFE OF LORD BYRON. 29

« P. S. Hobhouse presents his remembrances,
and is eager, with all the world, for your new
poem."

LETTER 280. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, May 30. 1817.

" I returned from Rome two days ago, and have
received your letter ; but no sign nor tidings of the
parcel sent through Sir C. Stuart, which you men-
tion. After an interval of months, a packet of * Tales,'
&c. found me at Rome ; but this is all, and may be
all that ever will find me. The post seems to be
the only sure conveyance ; and that only for letters.
From Florence I sent you a poem on Tasso, and
from Rome the new third Act of ' Manfred,' and
by Dr. Polidori two portraits for my sister. I left
Rome and made a rapid journey home. You will
continue to direct here as usual. Mr. Hobhouse is
gone to Naples : I should have run down there too
for a week, but for the quantity of English whom I
heard of there. I prefer hating them at a distance ;
unless an earthquake, or a good real irruption of
Vesuvius, were ensured to reconcile me to their
vicinity.

" The day before I left Rome I saw three robbers
guillotined. The ceremony — including the masqued
priests ; the half-naked executioners ; the bandaged
criminals ; the black Christ and his banner ; the
scaffold ; the soldiery ; the slow procession, and the
quick rattle and heavy fall of the axe ; the splash
of the blood, and the ghastliness of the exposed

30 NOTICES OF THE 1817.,

heads — is altogether more impressive than the
vulgar and ungentlemanly dirty * new drop/ and
dog-like agony of infliction upon the sufferers of the
English sentence. Two of these men behaved
calmly enough, but the first of the three died with
great terror and reluctance. What was very hor-
rible, he would not lie down ; then his neck was too
large for the aperture, and the priest was obliged to
drown his exclamations by still louder exhortations.
The head was off before the eye could trace the
blow ; but from an attempt to draw back the head,
notwithstanding it was held forward by the hair, the
first head was cut off close to the ears : the other
two were taken off more cleanly. It is better than
the oriental way, and (I should think) than the axe
of our ancestors. The pain seems little, and yet the
effect to the spectator, and the preparation to the
criminal, is very striking and chilling. The first
turned me quite hot and thirsty, and made me shake
so that I could hardly hold the opera-glass (I was
close, but was determined to see, as one should see
every thing, once, with attention) ; the second and
third (which shows how dreadfully soon things grow
indifferent), I am ashamed to say, had no effect on
me as a horror, though I would have saved them if
I could. Yours," £c.

LETTER 281. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, June 4. 1817.

" I have received the proofs of the * Lament of
Tasso,' which makes me hope that you have also

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 31

received the reformed third Act of Manfred, from
Rome, which I sent soon after my arrival there.
My date will apprise you of my return home within
these few days. For me, I have received none of
your packets, except, after long delay, the i Tales
of my Landlord,' which I before acknowledged. I
do not at all understand the why nots, but so it is ;
no Manuel, no letters, no tooth-powder, no extract
from Moore's Italy concerning Marino Faliero, no
NOTHING — as a man hallooed out at one of Burdett's
elections, after a long ululatus of * No Bastille ! No
governor-ities I No — ' God knows who or what ; —
but his ne plus ultra was, ' No nothing !' — and my
receipts of your packages amount to about his
meaning. I want the extract from Moore's Italy
very much, and the tooth-powder, and the magnesia;
I don't care so much about the poetry, or the letters,
or Mr. Maturin's by-Jasus tragedy. Most of the
things sent by the post have come — I mean proofs
and letters; therefore send me Marino Faliero by
the post, in a letter.

" I was delighted with Rome, and was on horseback
all round it many hours daily, besides in it the rest
of my time, bothering over its marvels. I excursed
and skirred the country round to Alba, Tivoli, Fres-
cati, Licenza, &c. &c. ; besides, I visited twice the
Fall of Terni, which beats every thing. On my way
back, close to the temple by its banks, I got some
famous trout out of the river Clitumnus — the
prettiest little stream in all poesy, near the first
post from Foligno and Spoletto. — I did not stay at
Florence, being anxious to get home to Venice, and

32 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

having already seen the galleries and other sights.
I left my commendatory letters the evening before
I went, so I saw nobody.

" To-day, Pindemonte, the celebrated poet of
Verona, called on me ; he is a little thin man, with
acute and pleasing features ; his address good and
gentle; his appearance altogether very philosophical;
his age about sixty, or more. He is one of their
best going. I gave him Forsyth, as he speaks, or
reads rather, a little English, and will find there a
favourable account of himself. He enquired after
his old Cruscan friends, Parsons, Greathead, Mrs.
Piozzi, and Merry, all of whom he had known in his
youth. I gave him as bad an account of them as I
could, answering, as the false ' Solomon Lob' does
to ' Totterton' in the farce, * all gone dead/ and
damned by a satire more than twenty years ago ;
that the name of their extinguisher was Gifford;
that they were but a sad set of scribes after all, and
no great things in any other way. He seemed, as
was natural, very much pleased with this account
of his old acquaintances, and went away greatly
gratified with that and Mr. Forsyth's sententious
paragraph of applause in his own (Pindemonte's)
favour. After having been a little libertine in his
youth, he is grown devout, and takes prayers, and
talks to himself, to keep off the devil ; but for all
that, he is a very nice little old gentleman.

" I forgot to tell you that at Bologna (which
is celebrated for producing popes, painters, and
sausages) I saw an anatomical gallery, where there
is a deal of waxwork, in which * *.

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 33

" I am sorry to hear of your row with Hunt ; but
suppose him to be exasperated by the Quarterly and
your refusal to deal ; and when one is angry and
edites a paper, I should think the temptation too
strong for literary nature, which is not always
human. I can't conceive in what, and for what, he
abuses you : what have you done ? you are not an
author, nor a politician, nor a public character ; I
know no scrape you have tumbled into. I am the
more sorry for this because I introduced you to
Hunt, and because I believe him to be a good man ;
but till I know the particulars, I can give no opinion.

" Let me know about Lalla Rookh, which must
be out by this time.

" I restore the proofs, but the punctuation should
be corrected. I feel too lazy to have at it n^self ;
so beg and pray Mr. Gifford for me. — Address to
Venice. In a few days I go to my villeggiatura, in
a cassino near the Brenta, a few miles only on the
main land. I have determined on another year, and
many years of residence if I can compass them.
Marianna is with me, hardly recovered of the fever,
which has been attacking all Italy last winter. I am
afraid she is a little hectic ; but I hope the best.

« Ever, &c.

" P. S. Torwaltzen has done a bust of me at
Rome for Mr. Hobhouse, which is reckoned very
good. He is their best after Canova, and by some
preferred to him.

" I have had a letter from Mr. Hodgson. He is
very happy, has got a living, but not a child : if he

VOL. IV. D

S4f NOTICES OF THE 1817.

had stuck to a curacy, babes would have come of
course, because he could not have maintained them.

" Remember me to all friends, &c. &c.

" An Austrian officer, the other day, being in love
•with a Venetian, was ordered, with his regiment,
into Hungary. Distracted between love and duty,
lie purchased a deadly drug, which dividing with his
mistress, both swallowed. The ensuing pains were
terrific, but the pills were purgative, and not poison-
ous, by the contrivance of the unsentimental apothe-
cary ; so that so much suicide was all thrown away.
You may conceive the previous confusion and the
final laughter; but the intention was good on all
sides."

LETTER 282. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, June 8. 1817.

" The present letter will be delivered to you by
two Armenian friars, on their way, by England, to
Madras. They will also convey some copies of the
grammar, which I think you agreed to take. If you
can be of any use to them, either amongst your
naval or East Indian acquaintances, I hope you will
so far oblige me, as they and their order have been
remarkably attentive and friendly towards me since
my arrival at Venice. Their names are Father
Sukias Somalian and Father Sarkis Theodorosian.
They speak Italian, and probably French, or a little
English. Repeating earnestly my recommendatory
request, believe me, very truly, yours,

" BYRON.

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 35

" Perhaps you can help them to their passage, or
give or get them letters for India."

LETTER 283. TO MR. MURRAY.

" La Mira, near Venice, June 14. 1817.

" I write to you from the banks of the Brenta, a
few miles from Venice, where I have colonised for
six months to come. Address, as usual, to Venice.

" Three months after date (17th March), — like
the unnegotiable bill despondingly received by the
reluctant tailor, — your despatch has arrived, con-
taining the extract from Moore's Italy and Mr.
Maturin's bankrupt tragedy. It is the absurd work
of a clever man. I think it might have done upon
the stage, if he had made Manuel (by some trickery,
in a masque or vizor) fight his own battle, instead
of employing Molineux as his champion ; and, after
the defeat of Torismond, have made him spare tne
son of his enemy, by some revulsion of feeling, not
incompatible with a character of extravagant and
distempered emotions. But as it is, what with the
Justiza, and the ridiculous conduct of the whole
dram. pers. (for they are all as mad as Manuel, who
surely must have had more interest with a corrupt
bench than a distant relation and heir presumptive,
somewhat suspect of homicide,) I do not wonder
at its failure. As a play, it is impracticable ; as a
poem, no great things. Who was the * Greek that
grappled with glory naked ? ' the Olympic wrestlers ?
or Alexander the Great, when he ran stark round
the tomb of t'other fellow? or the Spartan who was
D 2

36 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

fined by the Ephori for fighting without his armour?
or who? And as to ' flaying off life like a garment/
helas ! that's in Tom Thumb — see king Arthur's
soliloquy :

" ' Life's a mere rag, not worth a prince's wearing ;
I'll cast it off.'

And the stage-directions — * Staggers among the
bodies ;' — the slain are too numerous, as well as the
blackamoor knights-penitent being one too many:
and De Zelos is such a shabby Monmouth Street
villain, without any redeeming quality — Stap my
vitals I Maturin seems to be declining into Nat. Lee.
But let him try again ; he has talent, but not much
taste. I 'gin to fear, or to hope, that Sotheby, after
all, is to be the Eschylus of the age, unless Mr. Shiel
be really worthy his success. The more I see of
the stage, the less I would wish to have any thing
to do with it ; as a proof of which, I hope you have
received the third Act of Manfred, which will at
least prove that I wish to steer very clear of the
possibility of being put into scenery. I sent it from
Rome.

" I returned the proof of Tasso. By the way,
have you never received a translation of St. Paul
which I sent you, not for publication, before I went
to Rome?

" I am at present on the Brenta. Opposite is a
Spanish marquis, ninety years old ; next his casino
is a Frenchman's, — besides the natives ; so that, as
somebody said the other day, we are exactly one of
Goldoni's comedies (La Vedova Scaltra), where a

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 37

Spaniard, English, and Frenchman are introduced :
but we are all very good neighbours, Venetians, &c.
&c. &c.

" I am just getting on horseback for my evening
ride, and a visit to a physician, who has an agreeable
family, of a wife and four unmarried daughters, all
under eighteen, who are friends of Signora S * *,
and enemies to nobody. There are, and are to be,
besides, conversaziones and I know not what, a
Countess Labbia's and I know not whom. The
weather is mild; the thermometer 110 in the sun
this day, and 80 odd in the shade. Yours, &c.

" N."

LETTER 284. TO MR. MURRAY.

" La Mira, near Venice, June 17. 1817.

" It gives me great pleasure to hear of Moore's
success, and the more so that I never doubted that
ft would be complete. Whatever good you can tell
me of him and his poem will be most acceptable : I
feel very anxious indeed to receive it. I hope that
he is as happy in his fame and reward as I wish him
to be ; for I know no one who deserves both more
— if any so much.

" Now to business ; ******! say unto you,
verily, it is not so; or, as the foreigner said to
the waiter, after asking him to bring a glass of
water, to which the man answered, ' I will, sir, ' —
* You will! — G — d d — n, — I say, you mush!'
And I will submit this to the decision of any person
or persons to be appointed by both, on a fair examin-
D 3

SS NOTICES OF THE 1817.

ation of the circumstances of this as compared with
the preceding publications. So there's for you.
There is always some row or other previously to all
our publications : it should seem that, on approxi-
mating, we can never quite get over the natural an-
tipathy of author and bookseller, and that more par-
ticularly the ferine nature of the latter must break
forth.

" You are out about the third Canto : I have not
done, nor designed, a line of continuation to that
poem. I was too short a time at Rome for it, and
have no thought of recommencing.

" I cannot well explain to you by letter what I con-
ceive to be the origin of Mrs. Leigh's notion about
' Tales of my Landlord ;' but it is some points of
the characters of Sir E. Manley and Burley, as well
as one or two of the jocular portions, on which it is
founded, probably.

" If you have received Dr. Polidori as well as a
parcel of books, and you can be of use to him, be so.
I never was much more disgusted with any human
production than with the eternal nonsense, and tra-
casseries, and emptiness, and ill humour, and vanity
of that young person ; but he has some talent, and is
a man of honour, and has dispositions of amendment,
in which he has been aided by a little subsequent
experience, and may turn out well. Therefore, use
your government interest for him, for he is improved
and improvable.

" Yours," &c.

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYROX. 39

LETTER 285. TO MR. MURRAY.

" La Mira, near Venice, June 18. 1817.

" Enclosed is a letter to Dr. Holland from Pin-
demonte. Not knowing the Doctor's address, I am
desired to enquire, and, perhaps, being a literary man,
you will know or discover his haunt near some popu-
lous churchyard. I have written to you a scolding
letter — I believe, upon a misapprehended passage
in your letter — but never mind : it will do for next
time, and you will surely deserve it. Talking of
doctors reminds me once more to recommend to you
one who will not recommend himself, — the Doctor
Polidori. If you can help him to a publisher, do ;
or, if you have any sick relation, I would advise his
advice : all the patients he had in Italy are dead —
Mr. * *'s son, Mr. Homer, and Lord G * *, whom
he embowelled with great success at Pisa.

" Remember me to Moore, whom I congratulate.
How is Rogers ? and what is become of Campbell
and all t'other fellows of the Druid order ? I got
Maturin's Bedlam at last, but no other parcel ; I am
in fits for the tooth-powder, and the magnesia. I
want some of Burkitt's soda-powders. Will you tell
Mr. Kinnaird that I have written him two letters on
pressing business, (about Newstead, &c.) to which I
humbly solicit his attendance. I am just returned
from a gallop along the banks of the Brenta — time,
sunset. Yours,

« B."

D 4-

40 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

LETTER 286. TO MR. MURRAY.

" La Mira, near Venice, July 1. 1817.

" Since my former letter, I have been working up
my impressions into a fourth Canto of Childe
Harold, of which I have roughened off about rather
better than thirty stanzas, and mean to go on ; and
probably to make this ' Fytte ' the concluding one of
the poem, so that you may propose against the
autumn to draw out the conscription for 1818. You
must provide moneys, as this new resumption bodes
you certain disbursements. Somewhere about the
end of September or October, I propose to be under
way (f. e. in the press) ; but I have no idea yet of
the probable length or calibre of the Canto, or what
it will be good for ; but I mean to be as mercenary
as possible, an example (I do not mean of any indi-
vidual in particular, and least of all, any person or
persons of our mutual acquaintance) which I should
have followed in my youth, and I might still have
been a prosperous gentleman.

" No tooth-powder, no letters, no recent tidings
of you.

" Mr. Lewis is at Venice, and I am going up to
stay a week with him there — as it is one of his en-
thusiasms also to like the city.

" I stood in Venice on the ' Bridge of Sighs,' &c. &c.

" The ' Bridge of Sighs ' (i. e. Ponte de'i Sospiri)
is thatwhich divides, or rather joins, the palace of the
Doge to the prison of the state. It has two pas-
sages : the criminal went by the one to judgment,

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 41

and returned by the other to death, being strangled
in a chamber adjoining, where there was a mechani-
cal process for the purpose.

" This is the first stanza of our new Canto ; and
now for a line of the second : —

" In Venice, Tasso's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier,
Her palaces, &c. &c.

" You know that formerly the gondoliers sung
always, and Tasso's Gierusalemme was their ballad.
Venice is built on seventy-two islands.

" There ! there's a brick of your new Babel ! and
now, sirrah ! what say you to the sample ?

" Yours, &c.

" P. S. I shall write again by and by."

LETTER 287. TO MR. MURRAY.

" La Mira, near Venice, July 8. 1817

" If you can convey the enclosed letter to its
address, or discover the person to whom it is directed,
you will confer a favour upon the Venetian creditor
of a deceased Englishman. This epistle is a dun
to his executor, for house-rent. The name of the
insolvent defunct is, or was, Porter Valter, according
to tl e account of the plaintiff, which I rather suspect
ought to be Walter Porter, according to our mode of
collocation. If you are acquainted with any dead
man cf the like name a good deal in debt, pray dig
him up, and tell him that * a pound of his fair flesh '
or the ducats are required, and that ' if you deny
them, fie upon your law ! '

42 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

" I hear nothing more from you about Moore's
poem, Rogers, or other literary phenomena ; but to-
morrow, being post-day, will bring perhaps some
tidings. I write to you with people talking Venetian
all about, so that you must not expect this letter to
be all English.

" The other day, I had a squabble on the highway,
as follows : I was riding pretty quickly from Dolo
home about eight in the evening, when I passed a
party of people in a hired carriage, one of whom,
poking his head out of the window, began bawling to
me in an inarticulate but insolent manner. I wheeled
my horse round, and overtaking, stopped the coach,
and said, * Signer, have you any commands for me?'
He replied, impudently as to manner, * No.' I then
asked him what he meant by that unseemly noise, to
the discomfiture of the passers-by. He replied by
some piece of impertinence, to which I answered by
giving him a violent slap in the face. I then dis-
mounted, (for this passed at the window, I being on
horseback still,) and opening the door desired him to
walk out, or I would give him another. But the first
had settled him except as to words, of which he
poured forth a profusion in blasphemies, swearing
that he would go to the police and avouch a battery
sans provocation. I said he lied, and was a * *, and
if he did not hold his tongue, should be dragged out
and beaten anew. He then held his tongue. I of
course told him my name and residence, and defied
him to the death, if he were a gentleman, oc not a
gentleman, and had the inclination to be genteel in
the way of combat. He went to the police, bat there

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYROX. 43

having been bystanders in the road, — particularly a
soldier, who had seen the business, — as well as my
servant, notwithstanding the oaths of the coachman
and five insides besides the plaintiff, and a good deal
of paying on all sides, his complaint was dismissed,
he having been the aggressor; — and I was subse-
quently informed that, had I not given him a blow,,
he might have been had into durance.

" So set down this, — * that in Aleppo once ? I
* beat a Venetian ; ' but I assure you that he de-
served it, for I am a quiet man, like Candide, though
with somewhat of his fortune in being forced to
forego my natural meekness every now and then.
" Yours, &c. B."

LETTER 288. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Venice, July 9. 1817.

" I have got the sketch and extracts from Lalla
Ilookh. The plan, as well as the extracts, I have
seen, please me very much indeed, and I feel impa-
tient for the whole.

"With regard to the critique on ' Manfred,' you
have been in such a devil of a hurry, that you have
only sent me the half: it breaks oif at page 294.
Send me the rest ; and also page 270., where there
is ( an account of the supposed origin of this dread-
ful story,' — in which, by the way, whatever it may
be, the conjecturer is out, and knows nothing of the
matter. I had a better origin than he can devise or
divine, for the soul of him.

" You say nothing of Manfred's luck in the world;

44 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

and I care not. He is one of the best of my misbe-
gotten, say what they will.

" I got at last an extract, but no parcels. They
will come, I suppose, some time or other. I am come
up to Venice for a day or two to bathe, and am just
going to take a swim in the Adriatic ; so, good even-
ing — the post waits. Yours, &c.

«B.

" P. S. Pray, was Manfred's speech to the Sun
still retained in Act third ? I hope so : it was one
of the best in the thing, and better than the Colos-
seum. I have done fifty-six of Canto fourth,
Childe Harold ; so down with your ducats."

LETTER 289. TO MR. MOORE.

« La Mira, Venice, July 10. 1817.

" Murray, the Mokanna of booksellers, has con-
trived to send me extracts from Lalla Rookh by the
post. They are taken from some magazine, and
contain a short outline and quotations from the
two first Poems. I am very much delighted with
what is before me, and very thirsty for the rest.
You have caught the colours as if you had been in
the rainbow, and the tone of the East is perfectly
preserved. I am glad you have changed the title
from * Persian Tale.'

" I suspect you have written a devilish fine com-
position, and 1 rejoice in it from my heart ; because
* the Douglas and the Percy both together are con-
fident against a world in arms/ I hope you won't

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 45

be affronted at my looking on us as * birds of a
feather;' though on whatever subject you had
written, I should have been very happy in your suc-
cess.

" There is a simile of an orange-tree's * flowers
and fruits/ which I should have liked better if I did
not believe it to be a reflection on * * *.

" Do you remember Thurlow's poem to Sam —
* When Rogers ;' and that d — d supper of Rancliffe's
that ought to have been a dinner ? * Ah, Master
Shallow, we have heard the chimes at midnight.'
But

" My boat is on the shore,

And my bark is on the sea ;
But, before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee !

" Here's a sigh to those who love me,

And a smile to those who hate ;
And whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate.

" Though the ocean roar around me,

Yet it still shall bear me on ;
Though a desert should surround me,
It hath springs that may be won.

" Were't the last drop in the well,

As I gasp'd upon the brink,
Ere my fainting spirit fell,

'Tis to thee that I would drink.

" With that water, as this wine,
The libation I would pour,
Should be — peace with thine and mine,
And a health to thee, Tom Moore.

46 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

" This should have been written fifteen moons ago
• — the first stanza was. I am just come out from an
hour's swim in the Adriatic ; and I write to you
with a black-eyed Venetian girl before me, reading
Boccacio.

" Last week I had a row on the road (I came up
to Venice from my casino, a few miles on the Pa-
duan road, this blessed day, to bathe) with a fellow
in a carriage, who was impudent to my horse. I
gave him a swingeing box on the ear, which sent
him to the police, who dismissed his complaint.
Witnesses had seen the transaction. He first shout-
ed, in an unseemly way, to frighten my palfry. I
wheeled round, rode up to the window, and asked
him what he meant. He grinned, and said some
foolery, which produced him an immediate slap in
the face, to his utter discomfiture. Much blas-
phemy ensued, and some menace, which I stopped
by dismounting and opening the carriage door, and
intimating an intention of mending the road with
his immediate remains, if he did not hold his tongue.
He held it.

" Monk Lewis is here — * how pleasant!'* He
is a very good fellow, and very much yours. So is
Sam — so is every body — and amongst the number,

" Yours ever,

«B.

" P. S. What think you of Manfred?"

* An allusion (such as often occurs in these letters) to an
anecdote with which he had been amused.

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 47

LETTER 290. TO MR. MURRAY.

« La Mira, near Venice, July 15. 1817.

" I have finished (that is, written — the file comes
afterwards) ninety and eight stanzas of the fourth
Canto, which I mean to be the concluding one. It
will probably be about the same length as the third,
being already of the dimensions of the first or second
Cantos. I look upon parts of it as very good, that
is, if the three former are good, but this we shall
see ; and at any rate, good or not, it is rather a dif-
ferent style from the last — less metaphysical —
which, at any rate, will be a variety. I sent you the
shaft of the column as a specimen the other day, i. e.
the first stanza. So you may be thinking of its ar-
rival towards autumn, whose winds will not be the
only ones to be raised, if so be as how that it is ready
by that time.

"I lent Lewis, who is at Venice, (in or on the Canal-
accio, the Grand Canal,) your extracts from Lalla
Rookh and Manuel *, and, out of contradiction, it
may be, he likes the last, and is not much taken with
the first, of these performances. Of Manuel, I think,
with the exception of a few capers, it is as heavy a
nightmare as was ever bestrode by indigestion.

" Of the extracts I can but judge as extracts,
and I prefer the « Peri ' to the ' Silver Veil.' He
seems not so much at home in his versification of the
* Silver Veil,' and a little embarrassed with his
horrors ; but the conception of the character of the

* A tragedy, by the Rev. Mr. Maturin. .

4-3 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

impostor is fine, and the plan of great scope for his
genius, — and I doubt not that, as a whole, it will
be very Arabesque and beautiful.

" Your late epistle is not the most abundant in in-
formation, and has not yet been succeeded by any
other ; so that I know nothing of your own concerns,
or of any concerns, and as I never hear from any body
but yourself who does not tell me something as dis-
agreeable as possible, I should not be sorry to hear
from you : and as it is not very probable, — if I can,
by any device or possible arrangement with regard
to my persorial affairs, so arrange it, — that I shall
return soon, or reside ever in England, all that you
tell me will be all I shall know or enquire after, as
to our beloved realm of Grub Street, and the black
brethren and blue sisterhood of that extensive
suburb of Babylon. Have you had no new babe of
literature sprung up to replace the dead, the distant,
the tired, and the retired ? no prose, no verse, no
nothing?"

LETTER 291. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, July 20. 1817.

" I write to give you notice that I have completed
tine fourth and ultimate Canto of Childe Harold. It
consists of 126 stanzas, and is consequently the
longest of the four. It is yet to be copied and
polished ; and the notes are to come, of which it
will require more than the third Canto, as it neces-
sarily treats more of works of art than of nature. It
shall be sent towards autumn; — and now for our

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 49

barter. What do you bid? eh? you shall have,
samples, an' it so please you: but I wish to know
what I am to expect (as the saying is) in these hard
times, when poetry does not let for half its value.
If you are disposed to do what Mrs. Winifred Jenkins
calls * the handsome thing,' I may perhaps throw you
some odd matters to the lot, — translations, or slight
originals; there is no saying what may be on the
anvil between this and the booking season. Recol-
lect that it is the last Canto, and completes the work ;
whether as good as the others, I cannot judge, in
course — least of all as yet, — but it shall be as little
worse as I can help. I may, perhaps, give some
little gossip in the notes as to the present state of
Italian literati and literature, being acquainted with
some of their capi — men as well as books ; — but
this depends upon my humour at the time. So, now,
pronounce : I say nothing.

" When you have got the whole four Cantos, I
think you might venture on an edition of the whole
poem in quarto, with spare copies of the two last for
the purchasers of the old edition of the first two.
There is a hint for you, worthy of the Row ; and
now, perpend — - pronounce.

" I have not received a word from you of the fate
of * Manfred' or * Tasso,' which seems to me odd,
whether they have failed or succeeded.

" As this is a scrawl of business, arid I have lately
written at length and often on other subjects, I will
only add that I am," &c.

VOL. IV.

50 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

LETTER 292. TO MR. MURRAY.

" La Mira, near Venice, August 7. 1817
" Your letter of the 18th, and, what will please
you, as it did me, the parcel sent by the good-natured
aid and abetment of Mr. Croker, are arrived. —
Messrs. Lewis and Hobhouse are here : the former
in the same house, the latter a few hundred yards
distant.

" You say nothing of Manfred, from which its
failure may be inferred; but I think it odd you
should not say so at once. I know nothing, and
hear absolutely nothing, of any body or any thing in
England ; and there are no English papers, so that
all you say will be news — of any person, or thing,
or things. I am at present very anxious about
Newstead, and sorry that Kinnaird is leaving
England at this minute, though I do not tell him so,
and would rather he should have his pleasure,
although it may not in this instance tend to my
profit.

" If I understand rightly, you have paid into Mor-
land's 1500 pounds: as the agreement in the paper
is two thousand guineas, there will remain therefore
six hundred pounds, and not five hundred, the odd
hundred being the extra to make up the specie.
Six hundred and thirty pounds will bring it to the
like for Manfred and Tasso, making a total of
twelve hundred and thirty, I believe, for I am not a
good calculator. I do not wish to press you, but I
tell you fairly that it will be a convenience to me to

1817.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

51

have it paid as soon as it can be made convenient to
yourself.

" The new and last Canto is 130 stanzas in length ;
and may be made more or less. I have fixed no
price, even in idea, and have no notion of what it
may be good for. There are no metaphysics in it ;
at least, I think not. Mr. Hobhouse has promised
me a copy of Tasso's Will, for notes ; and I have
some curious things to say about Ferrara, and
Parisina's story, and perhaps a farthing candle's
worth of light upon the present state of Italian
literature. I shall hardly be ready by October ; but
that don't matter. I have all to copy and correct,
and the notes to write.

" 1 do not know whether Scott will like it ; but I
have called him the * Ariosto of the North' in my
text. If he should not, say so in time.

" An Italian translation of' Glenarvon' came lately
to be printed at Venice. The censor (Sr. Petrotini)
refused to sanction the publication till he had seen
me on the subject. I told him that I did not recog-
nise the slightest relation between that book and
myself; but that, whatever opinions might be upon
that subject, /would never prevent or oppose the
publication of any book, in any language, on my own
private account ; and desired him (against his incli-
nation) to permit the poor translator to publish his
labours. It is going forwards in consequence. You
may say this, with my compliments, to the author.

" Yours. "

E 2

52 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

LETTER 293. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, August 12. 1817.

" I have been very sorry to hear of the death of
Madame de Stael, not only because she had been
very kind to me at Copet, but because now I can
never requite her. In a general point of view, she
will leave a great gap in society and literature.

" With regard to death, I doubt that we have any
right to pity the dead for their own sakes.

" The copies of Manfred and Tasso are arrived,
thanks to Mr. Croker's cover. You have destroyed
the whole effect and moral of the poem by omitting
the last line of Manfred's speaking ; and why this
was done, I know not. Why you persist in saying
nothing of the thing itself, I am equally at a loss to
conjecture. If it is for fear of telling me something
disagreeable, you are wrong ; because sooner or later
I must know it, and I am not so new, nor so raw, nor
so inexperienced, as not to be able to bear, not the
mere paltry, petty disappointments of authorship,
but things more serious, — at least I hope so, and
that what you may think irritability is merely
mechanical, and only acts like galvanism on a
dead body, or the muscular motion which survives
sensation.

" If it is that you are out of humour, because I
wrote to you a sharp letter, recollect that it was
partly from a misconception of your letter, and
partly because you did a thing you had no right to
do without consulting me.

" I have, however, heard good of Manfred from

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 53

two other quarters, and from men who would not be
scrupulous in saying what they thought, or what was
said ; and so « good morrow to you, good Master
Lieutenant.'

" I wrote to you twice about the fourth Canto,
which you will answer at your pleasure. Mr. Hob-
house and I have come up for a day to the city ;
Mr. Lewis is gone to England ; and I am

" Yours."

LETTER 294. TO MR. MURRAY.

" La Mira, near Venice, August 21. 1817.
" I take you at your word about Mr. Hanson, and
will feel obliged if you will go to him, and request
Mr. Davies also to visit him by my desire, and repeat
that I trust that neither Mr. Kinnaird's absence nor
mine will prevent his taking all proper steps to ac-
celerate and promote the sale of Newstead and
Rochdale, upon which the whole of my future per-
sonal comfort depends. It is impossible for me to
express how much any delays upon these points
would inconvenience me; and I do not know a
greater obligation that can be conferred upon me
than the pressing these things upon Hanson, and
making him act according to my wishes. I wish
you would speak out, at least to me, and tell me
what you allude to by your cold way of mentioning
him. All mysteries at such a distance are not
merely tormenting but mischievous, and may be
prejudicial to my interests ; so, pray expound, that
I may consult with Mr. Kinnaird when he arrives ;
E 3

54- NOTICES OF THE 1817.

and remember that I prefer the most disagreeable
certainties to hints and innuendoes. The devil take
every body : I never can get any person to be ex-
plicit about any thing or any body, and my whole
life is passed in conjectures of what people mean :
you all talk in the style of C * * L * *'s novels.

" It is not Mr. St. John, but Mr. St. Auhyn> son
of Sir John St. Aubyn. Polidori knows him, and
introduced him to me. He is of Oxford, and has
got my parcel. The Doctor will ferret him out, or
ought. The parcel contains many letters, some of
Madame de Stael's, and other people's, besides MSS.,

&c. By , if I find the gentleman, and he don't

find the parcel, I will say something he won't like
to hear.

" You want a ' civil and delicate declension ' for
the medical tragedy ? Take it —

" Dear Doctor, I have read your play,
Which is a good one in its way, —
Purges the eyes and moves the bowels,
And drenches handkerchiefs like towels
With tears, that, in a flux of grief,
Afford hysterical relief
To shatter'd nerves and quicken'd pulses,
Which your catastrophe convulses.

" I like your moral and machinery ;
Your plot, too, has such scope for scenery I
Your dialogue is apt and smart ;
The play's concoction full of art ;
Your hero raves, your heroine cries,
All stab, and every body dies.
In short, your tragedy would be
The very thing to hear and see :

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYROX. 55

And for a piece of publication,

If I decline on this occasion,

It is not that I am not sensible

To merits in themselves ostensible,

But — and I grieve to speak it — plays

Are drugs, mere drugs, sir — now-a-days.

I had a heavy loss by ' Manuel,' —

Too lucky if it prove not annual, —

And S * *, with his < Orestes,'

(Which, by the by, the author's best is,)

Has lain so very long on hand

That I despair of all demand.

I've advertised, but see my books,

Or only watch my shopman's looks ; —

Still Ivan, Ina, and such lumber,

My back-shop glut, my shelves encumber.

" There's Byron too, who once did better,
Has sent me, folded in a letter,
A sort of — it's no more a drama
Than Darnley, Ivan, or Kehama;
So alter'd since last year his pen is,
I think he's lost his wits at Venice.
In short, sir, what with one and t'other,
I dare not venture on another.
I write in haste ; excuse each blunder ;
The coaches through the street so thunder !
My room's so full — we've Gifford here
Reading MS., with Hookham Frere,
Pronouncing on the nouns and particles
Of some of our forthcoming Articles.

" The Quarterly — Ah, sir, if you
Had but the genius to review ! —
A smart critique upon St. Helena,
Or if you only would but tell in a

Short compass what but, to resume :

As I was saying, sir, the room —
E 4

56 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

The room 's so full of wits and bards,

Crabbes, Campbells, Crokers, Freres, and Wards,

And others, neither bards nor wits : —

My humble tenement admits

All persons in the dress of gent.,

From Mr. Hammond to Dog Dent.

" A party dines with me to-day,
All clever men, who make their way ;
They 're at this moment in discussion
On poor De Stael's late dissolution.
Her book, they say, was in advance —
Pray Heaven, she tell the truth of France !

" Thus run our time and tongues away. —
But, to return, sir, to your play :
Sorry, sir, but I cannot deal,
Unless 'twere acted by O'Neill.
My hands so full, my head so busy,
I 'm almost dead, and always dizzy ;
And so, with endless truth and hurry,
Dear Doctor, I am yours,

" JOHN MURRAY.

" P.S. I've done the fourth arid last Canto, which
amounts to 133 stanzas. I desire you to name a
price ; if you don't, /will ; so I advise you in time.

" Yours, &c.

" There will be a good many notes."

Among those minor misrepresentations of which
it was Lord Byron's fate to be the victim, advantage
was, at this time, taken of his professed distaste to
the English, to accuse him of acts of inhospitality,
and even rudeness, towards some of his fellow-
countrymen. How far different was his treatment
of all who ever visited him, many grateful testimonies

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 57

might be collected to prove ; but I shall here con-
tent myself with selecting a few extracts from an
account given me by Mr. Henry Joy of a visit which,
in company with another English gentleman, he paid
to the noble poet this summer, at his villa on the
banks of the Brenta. After mentioning the various
civilities they had experienced from Lord Byron ;
and, among others, his having requested them to
name their own day for dining with him, — " We
availed ourselves," says Mr. Joy, " of this considerate
courtesy by naming the day fixed for our return to
Padua, when our route would lead us to his door ;
and we were welcomed with all the cordiality which
was to be expected from so friendly a bidding.
Such traits of kindness in such a man deserve to
be recorded on account of the numerous slanders
thrown upon him by some of the tribes of tourists,
who resented, as a personal affront, his resolution to
avoid their impertinent inroads upon his retirement.
So far from any appearance of indiscriminate aver-
sion to his countrymen, his enquiries about his friends
in England (quorum pars magna fuisti) were most
anxious and particular.

" He expressed some opinions," continues my
informant, " on matters of taste, which cannot fail
to interest his biographer. He contended that
Sculpture, as an art, was vastly superior to Paint-
ing ; — a preference which is strikingly illustrated
by the fact that, in the fourth Canto of Childe
Harold, he gives the most elaborate and splendid
account of several statues, and none of any pictures ;
although Italy is, emphatically, the land of painting,

58 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

and her best statues are derived from Greece. By
the way, he told us that there were more objects of
interest in Rome alone than in all Greece from one
extremity to the other. After regaling us with an
excellent dinner, (in which, by the by, a very English
joint of roast beef showed that he did not extend
his antipathies to all John-Bullisms,) he took me in
his carriage some miles of our route towards Padua,
after apologising to my fellow-traveller for the
separation, on the score of his anxiety to hear all
he could of his friends in England ; and I quitted
him with a confirmed impression of the strong ardour
and sincerity of his attachment to those by whom
he did not fancy himself slighted or ill treated."

LETTER 295. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Sept. 4. 1817.

" Your letter of the 15th has conveyed with its
contents the impression of a seal, to which the
' Saracen's Head ' is a seraph, and the * Bull and
Mouth ' a delicate device. I knew that calumny had
sufficiently blackened me of later days, but not that
it had given the features as well as complexion of
a negro. Poor Augusta is not less, but rather more,
shocked than myself, and says * people seem to
have lost their recollection strangely ' when they
engraved such a ' blackamoor.' Pray don't seal (at
least to me) with such a caricature of the human
numskull altogether ; and if you don't break the
seal-cutter's head, at least crack his libel (or likeness,
if it should be a likeness) of mine.

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 59

" Mr. Kinnaird is not yet arrived, but expected.
He has lost by the way all the tooth-powder, as a
letter from Spa informs me.

" By Mr. Rose I received safely, though tardily,
magnesia and tooth-powder, and * * * *. Why do
you send me such trash — worse than trash, the
Sublime of Mediocrity ? Thanks for Lalla, however,
which is good ; and thanks for the Edinburgh and
Quarterly, both very amusing and well-written.
Paris in 1815, &c. — good. Modern Greece — good
for nothing; written by some one who has never
been there, and not being able to manage the
Spenser stanza, has invented a thing of his own,
consisting of two elegiac stanzas, an heroic line, and
an Alexandrine, twisted on a string. Besides, why
* modern ? ' You may say modern Greeks, but surely
Greece itself is rather more ancient than ever it was.
Now for business.

" You offer 1500 guineas for the new Canto: I
won't take it. I ask two thousand five hundred
guineas for it, which you will either give or not, as
you think proper. It concludes the poem, and con-
sists of 144 stanzas. The notes are numerous, and
chiefly written by Mr. Hobhouse, whose researches
have been indefatigable; and who, I will venture
to say, has more real knowledge of Rome and its
environs than any Englishman who has been there
since Gibbon. By the way, to prevent any mis-
takes, I think it necessary to state the fact that he,
Mr. Hobhouse, has no interest whatever in the price
or profit to be derived from the copyright of either
poem or notes directly or indirectly ; so that you

60 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

are not to suppose that it is by, for, or through him,
that I require more for this Canto than the pre-
ceding. — No : but if Mr. Eustace was to have had
two thousand for a poem on Education; if Mr.
Moore is to have three thousand for Lalla, &c. ; if
Mr. Campbell is to have three thousand for his prose
on poetry — I don't mean to disparage these gentle-
men in their labours — but I ask the aforesaid price
for mine. You will tell me that their productions
are considerably longer: very true, and when they
shorten them, I will lengthen mine, and ask less.
You shall submit the MS. to Mr. Gifford, and any
other two gentlemen to be named by you, (Mr.
Frere, or Mr. Croker, or whomever you please, ex-
cept such fellows as your * * s and * * s,) and if
they pronounce this Canto to be inferior as a whole
to the preceding, I will not appeal from their award,
but burn the manuscript, and leave things as they
are. Yours very truly.

" P. S. In answer to a former letter, I sent you
a short statement of what I thought the state of our
present copyright account, viz. six hundred pounds
still (or lately) due on Childe Harold, and six hun-
dred guineas, Manfred and Tasso, making a total of
twelve hundred and thirty pounds. If we agree
about the new poem, I shall take the liberty to
reserve the choice of the manner in which it should
be published, viz. a quarto, certes."

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 61

LETTER 296. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" La Mira, Sept. 12. 1817.

" I set out yesterday morning with the intention
of paying my respects, and availing myself of your
permission to walk over the premises.* On arriving
at Padua, I found that the march of the Austrian
troops had engrossed so many horses f, that those I
could procure were hardly able to crawl ; and their
weakness, together with the prospect of finding none
at all at the post-house of Monselice, and consequently
either not arriving that day at Este, or so late as to
be unable to return home the same evening, induced
me to turn aside in a second visit to Arqua, instead
of proceeding onwards ; and even thus I hardly got
back in time.

" Next week I shall be obliged to be in Venice to
meet Lord Kinnaird and his brother, who are

* A country-house on the Euganean hills, near Este, which
Mr. Hoppner, who was then the English Consul- General at
Venice, had for some time occupied, and which Lord Byron
afterwards rented of him, but never resided in it.

f So great was the demand for horses, on the line of march
of the Austrians, that all those belonging to private individuals
were put in requisition for their use, and Lord Byron himself
received an order to send his for the same purpose. This,
however, he positively refused to do, adding, that if an attempt
were made to take them by force, he would shoot them through
the head in the middle of the road, rather than submit to such
an act of tyranny upon a foreigner who was merely a tempo-
rary resident in the country. Whether his answer was ever
reported to the higher authorities I know not ; but his horses
were suffered to remain unmolested in his stables.

62 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

expected in a few days. And this interruption,
together with that occasioned by the continued
march of the Austrians for the next few days, will
not allow me to fix any precise period for availing
myself of your kindness, though I should wish to
take the earliest opportunity. Perhaps, if absent,
you will have the goodness to permit one of your
servants to show me the grounds and house, or as
much of either as may be convenient ; at any rate, I
shall take the first occasion possible to go over, and
regret very much that I was yesterday prevented.
" I have the honour to be your obliged, " &c.

LETTER 297. TO MR. MURRAY.

« September 15. 1817.

" I enclose a sheet for correction, if ever you get
to another edition. You will observe that the
blunder in printing makes it appear as if the
Chateau was over St. Gingo, instead of being on the
opposite shore of the Lake, over Clarens. So,
separate the paragraphs, otherwise my topography
will seem as inaccurate as your typography on this
occasion.

" The other day I wrote to convey my proposition
with regard to the fourth and concluding Canto. I
have gone over and extended it to one hundred and
fifty stanzas, which is almost as long as the two first
were originally, and longer by itself than any of the
smaller poems except ' The Corsair.' Mr. Hobhouse
has made some very valuable and accurate notes of
considerable length, and you may be sure that I will

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 63

do for the text all that I can to finish with decency.
I look upon Childe Harold as my best ; -and as I
begun, I think of concluding with it. But I make
no resolutions on that head, as I broke my former
intention with regard to ' The Corsair.' However,
I fear that I shall never do better; and yet, not
being thirty years of age, for some moons to come,
one ought to be progressive as far as intellect goes for
many a good year. But I have had a devilish deal
of tear and wear of mind and body in my time,
besides having published too often and much already.
God grant me some judgment to do what may be
most fitting in that and every thing else, for I doubt
my own exceedingly.

" I have read ' Lalla Rookh,' but not with
sufficient attention yet, for I ride about, and lounge,
and ponder, and — two or three other things ; so
that my reading is very desultory, and not so
attentive as it used to be. I am very glad to hear of
its popularity, for Moore is a very noble fellow in all
respects, and will enjoy it without any of the bad
feelings which success — good or evil — sometimes
engenders in the men of rhyme. Of the poem,
itself, I will tell you my opinion when I have mas-
tered it : I say of the poem, for I don't like the
prose at all ; and in the mean time, the * Fire-wor-
shippers ' is the best, and the * Veiled Prophet ' the
worst, of the volume.

" With regard to poetry in general*, I am con-

* On this paragraph, in the MS. copy of the above letter, I
find the following note, in the handwriting of Mr. Gifford : — -

64- NOTICES OF THE 1817.

vinced, the more I think of it, that he and all of us
— Scott, Southey, Wordsworth, Moore, Campbell,
I, — are all in the wrong, one as much as another;
that we are upon a wrong revolutionary poetical
system, or systems, not worth a damn in itself, and
from which none but Uogers and Crabbe are free ;
and that the present and next generations will
finally be of this opinion. I am the more confirmed
in this by having lately gone over some of our
classics, particularly Pope, whom I tried in this way,
— I took Moore's poems and my own and some
others, and went over them side by side with Pope's,
and I was really astonished (I ought not to have
been so) and mortified at the ineffable distance in
point of sense, learning, effect, and even imagination,
passion, and invention, between the little Queen
Anne's man, and us of the Lower Empire. Depend
upon it, it is all Horace then, and Claudian now,
among us; and if I had to begin again, I would
mould myself accordingly. Crabbe's the man, but
he has got a coarse and impracticable subject, and
* * * is retired upon half-pay, and has done enough,
unless he were to do as he did formerly."

LETTER 298. TO MR. MURRAY.

" September 17. 1817.

" Mr. Hobhouse purposes being in England in
November; he will bring the fourth Canto with

" There is more good sense, and feeling, and judgment in this
passage, than in any other I ever read, or Lord Byron wrote. "

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 65

him, notes and all ; the text contains one hundred
and fifty stanzas, which is long for that measure.

" With regard to the < Ariosto of the North/
surely their themes, chivalry, war, and love, were
as like as can be ; and as to the compliment, if you
knew what the Italians think of Ariosto, you would
not hesitate about that. But as to their « measures/
you forget that Ariosto's is an octave stanza, and
Scott's any thing but a stanza. If you think Scott
will dislike it, say so, and I will expunge. I do not
call him the ' Scotch Ariosto,' which would be sad
provincial eulogy, but the ' Ariosto of the North]
meaning of all countries that are not the South. * *

" As I have recently troubled you rather fre-
quently, I will conclude, repeating that I am

" Yours ever," &c.

LETTER 299. TO MR. MURRAY.

" October 12. 1817.

" Mr. Kinnaird and his brother, Lord Kinnaird,
have been here, and are now gone again. All your
missives came, except the tooth-powder, of which I
request further supplies, at all convenient oppor-
tunities ; as also of magnesia and soda-powders, both
great luxuries here, and neither to be had good, or
indeed hardly at all, of the natives. * * *

" In * *'s Life, I perceive an attack upon the then
Committee of D. L. Theatre for acting Bertram, and
an attack upon Maturin's Bertram for being acted.
Considering all things, this is not very grateful nor
graceful on the part of the worthy autobiographer;

VOL. IV. F

66 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

and I would answer, if I had not obliged him. Put-
ting my own pains to forward the views of * * out of
the question, I know that there was every disposition,
on the part of the Sub-Committee, to bring forward
any production of his, were it feasible. The play
he offered, though poetical, did not appear at all
practicable, and Bertram did; — and hence this
long tirade, which is the last chapter of his vaga-
bond life.

" As for Bertram, Maturin may defend his own
begotten, if he likes it well enough; I leave the
Irish clergyman and the new Orator Henley to
battle it out between them, satisfied to have done
the best I could for both. I may say this to you>
who know it.

" Mr. * * may console himself with the fervour, —
the almost religious fervour of his and W * *'s dis-
ciples, as he calls it. If he means that as any proof
of their merits, I will find him as much * fervour' in
behalf of Richard Brothers and Joanna Southcote
as ever gathered over his pages or round his fire-
side.

" My answer to your proposition about the fourth
Canto you will have received, and I await yours ; —
perhaps we may not agree. I have since written a
poem (of 84 octave stanzas), humorous, in or after
the excellent manner of Mr. Whistlecraft (whom I
take to be Frere), on a Venetian anecdote which
amused me: — but till I have your answer, I can
say nothing more about it.

" Mr. Hobhouse does not return to England in
November, as he intended, but will winter here

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 67

and as he is to convey the poem, or poems, — for
there may perhaps be more than the two mentioned,
(which, by the way, I shall not perhaps include in
the same publication or agreement,) I shall not be
able to publish so soon as expected ; but I suppose
there is no harm in the delay.

" I have signed and sent your former copyrights by
Mr. Kinnaird, but not the receipt, because the money
is not yet paid. Mr. Kinnaird has a power of attor
ney to sign for me, and will, when necessary.

" Many thanks for the Edinburgh Review, which
is very kind about Manfred, and defends its origi-
nality, which I did not know that any body had
attacked. I never read, and do not know that I
ever saw, the * Faustus of Marlow,' and had, and
have, no dramatic works by me in English, except
the recent things you sent me; but I heard Mr.
Lewis translate verbally some scenes of Goethe's
Faust (which were, some good, and some bad) last
summer ; — which is all I know of the history of that
magical personage ; and as to the germs of Manfred,
they may be found in the Journal which I sent to
Mrs. Leigh (part of which you saw) when I went
over first the Dent de Jaman, and then the Wengen
or Wengeberg Alp and Sheideck, and made the
giro of the Jungfrau, Shreckhorn, &c. &c. shortly
before I left Switzerland. I have the whole scene
of Manfred before me as if it was but yesterday,
and could point it out, spot by spot, torrent and all.

" Of the Prometheus of ^schylus I was passion-
ately fond as a boy (it was one of the Greek plays
F 2

68 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

we read thrice a year at Harrow); — indeed that
and the ' Medea' were the only ones, except the
' Seven before Thebes,' which ever much pleased
me. As to the ' Faustus of Marlow,' I never read,
never saw, nor heard of it — at least, thought of it,
except that I think Mr. Gifford mentioned, in a note
of his which you sent me, something about the
catastrophe ; but not as having any thing to do with
mine, which may or may not resemble it, for any
thing I know.

" The Prometheus, if not exactly in my plan, has
always been so much in my head, that I can easily
conceive its influence over all or any thing that I
have written ; — but I deny Marlow and his progeny,
arid beg that you will do the same.

" If you can send me the paper in question *,
which the Edinburgh Review mentions, do* The
review in the magazine you say was written by
Wilson ? it had all the air of being a poet's, and was
a very good one. The Edinburgh Review I take to
be Jeffrey's own by its friendliness. I wonder they
thought it worth while to do so, so soon after the
former ; but it was evidently with a good motive.

" I saw Hoppner the other day, whose country-
house at Este I have taken for two years. If you

* A paper in the Edinburgh Magazine, in which it was
suggested that the general conception of Manfred, and much
of what is excellent in the manner of its execution, had been
borrowed from " The Tragical History of Dr. Faustus," of
Marlow.

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 69

come out next summer, let me know in time. Love
to Gifford. " Yours ever truly.

" Crabbe, Malcolm, Hamilton, and Chantrey,
Are all partakers of my pantry.

These two lines are omitted in your letter to the
doctor, after —

" All clever men who make their way."

LETTER 300. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, October 23. 1817.

" Your two letters are before me, and our bargain
is so far concluded. How sorry I am to hear that
Gifford is unwell ! Pray tell me he is better : I hope
it is nothing but cold. As you say his illness origi-
nates in cold, I trust it will get no further.

" Mr. Whistlecraft has no greater admirer than
myself: I have written a story in 89 stanzas, in
imitation of him, called Beppo, (the short name for
Giuseppe, that is, the Joe of the Italian Joseph,)
which I shall throw you into the balance of the fourth
Canto, to help you round to your money ; but you
perhaps had better publish it anonymously ; but this
we will see to by and by.

" In the Notes to Canto fourth, Mr. Hobhouse
has pointed out several errors of Gibbon. You may
depend upon H.'s research and accuracy. You may
print it in what shape you please.

" With regard to a future large edition, you may
print all, or any thing, except * English Bards,' to
the republication of which at no time will I consent.
F 3

70 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

I would not reprint them on any consideration. I
don't think them good for much, even in point of
poetry ; and, as to other things, you are to recollect
that I gave up the publication on account of the Hol-
lands, and I do not think that any time or circum-
stances can neutralise the suppression. Add to
which, that, after being on terms with almost all the
bards and critics of the day, it would be savage at
any time, but worst of all now, to revive this foolish
lampoon.

" The review of Manfred came very safely, and I
am much pleased with it. It is odd that they should
say (that is somebody in a magazine whom the Edin-
burgh controverts) that it was taken from Marlow's
Faust, which I never read nor saw. An American,
who came the other day from Germany, told Mr.
Hobhouse that Manfred was taken from Goethe's
Faust. The devil may take both the Faustuses,
German and English — I have taken neither.

" Will you send to Hanson, and say that he has
not written since 9th September? — at least I have
had no letter since, to my great surprise.

" Will you desire Messrs. Morland to send out
whatever additional sums have or may be paid in
credit immediately, and always to their Venice cor-
respondents ? It is two months ago that they sent
me out an additional credit for one thousand pounds.
I was very glad of it, but I don't know how the devil
it came ; for I can only make out 500 of Hanson's
payment, and I had thought the other 500 came
from you ; but it did not, it seems, as, by yours of

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 71

the 7th instant, you have only just paid the 1230/.
balance.

" Mr. Kinnaird is on his way home with the
assignments. I can fix no time for the arrival of
Canto fourth, which depends on the journey of Mr.
Hobhouse home ; and I do not think that this will
be immediate.

" Yours in great haste and very truly,

«B.

" P. S. Morlands have not yet written to my
bankers apprising the payment of your balances :
pray desire them to do so.

" Ask them about the previous thousand — of
which I know 500 came from Hanson's — and make
out the other 500 — that is, whence it came."

LETTER 301. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, November 15. J817.

" Mr. Kinnaird has probably returned to England
by this time, and will have conveyed to you any
tidings you may wish to have of us and ours. I have
come back to Venice for the winter. Mr. Hobhouse
will probably set off in December, but what day or
week I know not. He is my opposite neighbour at
present.

" I wrote yesterday in some perplexity, and no
very good humour, to Mr. Kinnaird, to inform me
about Newstead and the Hansons, of which and
whom I hear nothing since his departure from this
place, except in a few unintelligible words from an
unintelligible woman.

F 4-

72 NOTICES OF THE 1817.

" I am as sorry to hear of Dr. Polidori's accident
as one can be for a person for whom one has a dislike,
and something of contempt. When he gets well,
tell me, and how he gets on in the sick line. Poor
fellow ! how came he to fix there ?

" I fear the Doctor's skill at Norwich
Will hardly salt the Doctor's porridge.

Methought he was going to the Brazils to give the
Portuguese physic (of which they are fond to des-
peration) with the Danish consul.

" Your new Canto has expanded to one hundred
and sixty-seven stanzas. It will be long, you see ;
and as for the notes by Hobhouse, I suspect they
will be of the heroic size. You must keep Mr. * *
in good humour, for he is devilish touchy yet about
your Review and all which it inherits, including the
editor, the Admiralty, and its bookseller. I used to
think that / was a good deal of an author in amour
propre and noli me tangere ; but these prose fellows
are worst, after all, about their little comforts.

" Do you remember my mentioning, some months
ago, the Marquis Moncada — a Spaniard of distinc-
tion and fourscore years, my summer neighbour at
La Mira ? Well, about six weeks ago, he fell in
love with a Venetian girl of family, and no fortune or
character; took her into his mansion; quarrelled with
all his former friends for giving him advice (except
me who gave him none), and installed her present
concubine and future wife and mistress of himself
and furniture. At the end of a month, in which she
demeaned herself as ill as possible, he found out a

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 73

correspondence between her and some former keeper,
and after nearly strangling, turned her out of the
house, to the great scandal of the keeping part of the
town, and with a prodigious eclat, which has occu-
pied all the canals and coffee-houses in Venice. He
said she wanted to poison him ; and she says — God
knows what ; but between them they have made a
great deal of noise. I know a little of both the par-
ties : Moncada seemed a very sensible old man, a
character which he has not quite kept up on this
occasion ; and the woman is rather showy than pretty.
For the honour of religion, she was bred in a con-
vent, and for the credit of Great Britain, taught by
an Englishwoman. " Yours," &c.

LETTER 302. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, December 3. 1817.

" A Venetian lady, learned and somewhat stricken
in years, having, in her intervals of love and devo-
tion, taken upon her to translate the Letters and
write the Life of Lady Mary Wortley Montague, —
to which undertaking there are two obstacles, firstly,
ignorance of English, and, secondly, a total dearth of
information on the subject of her projected biogra-
phy, has applied to me for facts or falsities upon
this promising project. Lady Montague lived the
last twenty or more years of her life in or near
Venice, I believe ; but here they know nothing, and
remember nothing, for the story of to-day is suc-
ceeded by the scandal of to-morrow ; and the wit,
and beauty, and gallantry, which might render your

74f NOTICES OF THE 1817.

countrywoman notorious in her own country, must
have been here no great distinction — because the
first is in no request, and the two latter are common
to all women, or at least the last of them. If you can
therefore tell me any thing, or get any thing told, of
Lady Wortley Montague, I shall take it as a favour,
and will transfer and translate it to the * Dama' in
question. And I pray you besides to send me, by
some quick and safe voyager, the edition of her
Letters, and the stupid Life, by Dr. Dallaway, pub-
lished by her proud and foolish family.

" The death of the Princess Charlotte has been a
shock even here, and must have been an earthquake
at home. The Courier's list of some three hundred
heirs to the crown (including the house of Wirtem-

berg, with that * * *, P , of disreputable memory,

whom I remember seeing at various balls during the
visit of the Muscovites, &c. in 1814) must be very
consolatory to all true lieges, as well as foreigners,
except Signor Travis, a rich Jew merchant of this
city, who complains grievously of the length of British
mourning, which has countermanded all the silks
which he was on the point of transmitting, for a
year to come. The death of this poor girl is melan-
choly in every respect, dyirig at twenty or so, in
childbed — of a boy too, a present princess and future
queen, and just as she began to be happy, and to
enjoy herself, and the hopes which she inspired.

" I think, as far as I can recollect, she is the first
royal defunct in childbed upon record in our history.
I feel sorry in every respect — for the loss of a female
reign, and a woman hitherto harmless ; and all the

1817. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 75

lost rejoicings, and addresses, and drunkenness, and
disbursements, of John Bull on the occasion.

" The Prince will marry again, after divorcing his
wife, and Mr. Southey will write an elegy now, and
an ode then ; the Quarterly will have an article
against the press, and the Edinburgh an article, half
and half, about reform and right of divorce ; the
British will give you Dr. Chalmers's funeral sermon
much commended, with a place in the stars for
deceased royalty ; and the Morning Post will have
already yelled forth its * syllables of dolour.'

" Woe, woe, Nealliny ! — the young Nealliny !

" It is some time since I have heard from you : are
you in bad humour ? I suppose so. I have been so
myself, and it is your turn now, and by and by mine
will come round again. Yours truly,

«B.

" P. S. Countess Albrizzi, come back from Paris,
has brought me a medal of himself, a present from
Denon to me, and a likeness of Mr. Rogers (belonging
to her), by Denon also.''

LETTER 303. TO MR. HOPPNER.

« Venice, December 15. 1817.

" I should have thanked you before, for your
favour a few days ago, had I not been in the inten-
tion of paying my respects, personally, this evening,
from which I am deterred by the recollection that
you will probably be at the Count Goess's this even-
ing, which has made me postpone my intrusion.

76 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

" I think your Elegy a remarkably good one,
not only as a composition, but both the politics and
poetry contain a far greater portion of truth and
generosity than belongs to the times, or to the pro-
fessors of these opposite pursuits, which usually
agree only in one point, as extremes meet. I do
not know whether you wished me to retain the copy,
but I shall retain it till you tell me otherwise ; and
am very much obliged by the perusal.

" My own sentiments on Venice, &c., such as they
are, I had already thrown into verse last summer,
in the fourth Canto of Childe Harold, now in pre-
paration for the press ; and I think much more highly
of them, for being in coincidence with yours.

" Believe me yours," &c.

LETTER 304. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, January 8. 1818.

" My dear Mr. Murray,
You're in a damn'd hurry

To set up this ultimate Canto ;
But (if they don't rob us)
You'll see Mr. Hobhouse

Will bring it safe in his portmanteau.

*' For the Journal you hint of,
As ready to print off,

No doubt you do right to commend it ;
But as yet I have writ off
The devil a bit of

Our ' Beppo ;' — when copied, I'll send it.

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 77

" Then you 've * * * Tour, —
No great things, so be sure,

You could hardly begin with a less work ;
For the pompous rascal lion,
Who don't speak Italian

Nor French, must have scribbled by guess-work.

" You can make any loss up
With * Spence ' and his gossip,

A work which must surely succeed;
Then Queen Mary's Epistle-craft,
With the new « Fytte ' of « Whistlecraft,'

Must make people purchase and read.

" Then you 've General Gordon,
Who girded his sword on,

To serve with a Muscovite master,
And help him to polish
A nation so owlish,

They thought shaving their beards a disaster.

" For the man, ' poor and shrewd *, '
With whom you'd conclude

A compact without more delay,
Perhaps some such pen is
Still extant in Venice ;

But please, sir, to mention your pay."

LETTER 305. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, January 19. 1818.

" I send you the Story f in three other separate
covers. It won't do for your Journal, being full of
political allusions. Print alone, without name; alter

* " Vide your letter." f Beppo.

78 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

nothing ; get a scholar to see that the Italian phrases
are correctly published, (your printing, by the way,
always makes me ill with its eternal blunders, which
are incessant,) and God speed you. Hobhouse left
Venice a fortnight ago, saving two days. I have heard
nothing of or from him.

" Yours, &c.

" He has the whole of the MSS. ; so put up prayers
in your back shop, or in the printer's ' Chapel.' "

LETTER 306. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, January 27. 1818.

" My father — that is, my Armenian father, Padre
Pasquali — in the name of all the other fathers of
our Convent, sends you the enclosed, greeting.

" Inasmuch as it has pleased the translators of
the long-lost and lately-found portions of the text
of Eusebius to put forth the enclosed prospectus, of
which I send six copies, you are hereby implored
to obtain subscribers in the two Universities, and
among the learned, and the unlearned who would
unlearn their ignorance. — This they (the Convent)
request, / request, and do you request.

" I sent you Beppo some weeks agone. You
must publish it alone ; it has politics and ferocity,
and won't do for your isthmus of a Journal.

" Mr. Hobhouse, if the Alps have not broken his
neck, is, or ought to be, swimming with my com-
mentaries and his own coat of mail in his teeth
and right hand, in a cork jacket, between Calais
and Dover.

1818.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

79

" It is the height of the Carnival, and I am in the
extreme and agonies of a new intrigue with I don't
exactly know whom or what, except that she is in-
satiate of love, and won't take money, and has light
hair and blue eyes, which are not common here,
and that I met her at the Masque, and that when
her mask is off, I am as wise as ever. I shall make
what I can of the remainder of my youth."

LETTER 307. TO MR. MOORE.

" Venice, February 2. 1818.

" Your letter of December 8th arrived but this
day, by some delay, common but inexplicable. Your
domestic calamity is very grievous, and I feel with

you as much as I dare feel at all.v Throughout life,

^oiir Jj3SS_nLU£lLb^^ gain ;

and, though my heart may ebb, there will always
a drop for you among the dregs.

" I know how to feel with you, because (selfishness
being always the substratum of our damnable clay)
I am quite wrapt up in my own children. Besides
my little legitimate, I have made unto myself an
z71egitimate since (to say nothing of one before *),
and I look forward to one of these as the pillar of
my old age, supposing that I ever reach — which I
hope I never shall — that desolating period. I have
a great love for my little Ada, though perhaps she
may torture me, like * * *.

* This possibly may have been the subject of the Poem
given in p. 152. of the first volume.

80 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

" Your offered address will be as acceptable as you
can wish. I don't much care what the wretches of
the world think of me — all that's past. But I care a
good deal what you think of me, and, so, say what
you like. You know that I am not sullen ; and, as to
being savage, such things depend on circumstances.
However, as to being in good humour in your society,
there is no great merit in that, because it would be
an effort, or an insanity, to be otherwise.

" I don't know what Murray may have been saying
or quoting. * I called Crabbe and Sam the fathers
of present Poesy ; and said, that I thought — except
them — all of * us youth ' were on a wrong tack.
But I never said that we did not sail well. Our
fame will be hurt by admiration and imitation. When
I say our, I mean all (Lakers included), except the
postscript of the Augustans. The next generation
(from the quantity and facility of imitation) will
tumble and break their necks off our Pegasus, who

„ * Having seen by accident the passage in one of his letters
to Mr. Murray, in which he denounces, as false and worthless,
the poetical system on which the greater number of his cotem-
poraries, as well as himself, founded their reputation, I took
an opportunity, in the next letter I wrote to him, of jesting a
little on this opinion, and his motives for it. It was, no doubt
(I ventured to say), excellent policy in him, who had made
sure of his own immortality in this style of writing, thus to
throw overboard all us poor devils, who were embarked with
him. He was, in fact, I added, behaving towards us much in
the manner of the methodist preacher who said to his con-
gregation— " You may think, at the Last Day, to get to
heaven by laying hold on my skirts ; but I'll cheat you all, for
I'll wear a spencer, I'll wear a spencer ! "

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 81

runs away with us ; but we keep the saddle, because
we broke the rascal and can ride. But though easy
to mount, he is the devil to guide ; and the next
fellows must go back to the riding-school and the
manege, and learn to ride the ' great horse.'

" Talking of horses, by the way, I have trans-
ported my own, four in number, to the Lido (beach in
English), a strip of some ten miles along the Adriatic,
a mile or two from the city ; so that I not only get a
row in my gondola, but a spanking gallop of some
miles daily along a firm and solitary beach, from
the fortress to Malamocco, the which contributes
considerably to my health and spirits.

" I have hardly had a wink of sleep this week
past. We are in the agonies of the Carnival's last
days, and I must be up all night again, as well as to-
morrow. I have had some curious masking adven-
tures this Carnival ; but, as they are not yet over,
I shall not say on. I will work the mine of my youth
to the last veins of the ore, and then — good night.
I have lived, and am content.

" Hobhouse went away before the Carnival began,
so that he had little or no fun. Besides, it requires
some time to be thoroughgoing with the Venetians ;
but of all this anon, in some other letter.

" I must dress for the evening. There is an opera
and ridotto, and I know not what, besides balls ; and
so, ever and ever yours, " B.

" P. S. I send this without revision, so excuse
errors. I delight in the fame and fortune of Lalla,
and again congratulate you on your well-merited
success."

VOL. IV. G

82 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

Of his daily rides on the Lido, which he mentions
in this letter, the following account, by a gentleman
who lived a good deal with him at Venice, will be
found not a little interesting : —

" Almost immediately after Mr. Hobhouse's de-
parture, Lord Byron proposed to me to accompany
him in his rides on the Lido. One of the long
narrow islands which separate the Lagune, in the
midst of which Venice stands, from the Adriatic, is
more particularly distinguished by this name. At
one extremity is a fortification, which, with the
Castle of St. Andrea on an island on the opposite
side, defends the nearest entrance to the city from
the sea. In times of peace this fortification is almost
dismantled, and Lord Byron had hired here of the
Commandant an unoccupied stable, where he kept
his horses. The distance from the city was not
very considerable ; it was much less than to the
Terra Firma, and, as far as it went, the spot was not
ineligible for riding.

" Every day that the weather would permit, Lord
Byron called for me in his gondola, and we found
the horses waiting for us outside of the fort. We
rode as far as we could along the sea-shore, and then
on a kind of dyke, or embankment, which has been
raised where the island was very narrow, as far as
another small fort about half way between the prin-
cipal one which I have already mentioned, and the
town or village of Malamocco, which is near the
other extremity of the island, — the distance between
the two forts being about three miles.

" On the land side of the embankment, not fai

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 83

from the smaller fort, was a boundary stone which
probably marked some division of property, — all
the side of the island nearest the Lagune being
divided into gardens for the cultivation of vegetables
for the Venetian markets. At the foot of this stone
Lord Byron repeatedly told me that I should cause
him to be interred, if he should die in Venice, or
its neighbourhood, during my residence there ; and
he appeared to think, as he was not a Catholic, that,
on the part of the government, there could be no
obstacle to his interment in an unhallowed spot of
ground by the sea-side. At all events, I was to
overcome whatever difficulties might be raised on
this account. I was, by no means, he repeatedly
told me, to allow his body to be removed to England,
nor permit any of his family to interfere with his
funeral.

" Nothing could be more delightful than these
rides on the Lido were to me. We were from half
to three quarters of an hour crossing the water,
during which his conversation was always most
amusing and interesting. Sometimes he would bring
with him any new book he had received, and read
to me the passages which most struck him. Often
he would repeat to me whole stanzas of the poems
he was engaged in writing, as he had composed
them on the preceding evening ; and this was the
more interesting to me, because I could frequently
trace in them some idea which he had started in our
conversation of the preceding day, or some remark,
the effect of which he had been evidently trying
upon nie. Occasionally, too, he spoke of his own
G 2

84? NOTICES OF THE 1818.

affairs, making me repeat all I had heard with regard
to him, and desiring that I would not spare him,
but let him know the worst that was said."

LETTER 308. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, Feb. 20. 1818.

" I have to thank Mr. Croker for the arrival, and
you for the contents, of the parcel which came last
week, much quicker than any before, owing to Mr.
Croker's kind attention and the official exterior of
the bags ; and all safe, except much friction amongst
the magnesia, of which only two bottles came entire ;
but it is all very well, and I am exceedingly obliged
to you.

" The books I have read, or rather am reading.
Pray, who may be the Sexagenarian, whose gossip
is very amusing ? Many of his sketches I recognise,
particularly Gifford, Mackintosh, Drummond, Du-
tens, H. Walpole, Mrs. Inchbald, Opie, &c., with the
Scotts, Loughborough, and most of the divines and
lawyers, besides a few shorter hints of authors, and
a few lines about a certain < noble author,' charac-
terised as malignant and sceptical, according to the
good old story, * as it was in the beginning, is now,
but not always shall be : ' do you know such a per-
son, Master Murray ? eh ? — And pray, of the
booksellers, which be you ? the dry, the dirty, the
honest, the opulent, the finical, the splendid, or the
coxcomb bookseller ? Stap my vitals, but the author
grows scurrilous in his grand climacteric !

" I remember to have seen Person at Cambridge^

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 86

in the hall of our college, and in private parties, but
not frequently ; and I never can recollect him ex-
cept as drunk or brutal, and generally both : I mean
in an evening, for in the hall he dined at the Dean's
table, and I at the Vice-master's, so that I was not
near him ; and he then and there appeared sober in
his demeanour, nor did I ever hear of excess or out-
rage on his part in public, — commons, college, or
chapel ; but I have seen him in a private party of un-
dergraduates, many of them fresh men and strangers,
take up a poker to one of them, and heard him use
language as blackguard as his action. I have seen
Sheridan drunk, too, with all the world ; but his
intoxication was that of Bacchus, and Person's that
of Silenus. Of all the disgusting brutes, sulky,
abusive, and intolerable, Porson was the most
bestial, as far as the few times that I saw him went,
which were only at William Bankes's (the Nubian
discoverer's) rooms. I saw him once go away in a
rage, because nobody knew the name of the ' Cobbler
of Messina,' insulting their ignorance with the most
vulgar terms of reprobation. He was tolerated in
this state amongst the young men for his talents,
as the Turks think a madman inspired, and bear
with him. He used to recite, or rather vomit, pages
of all languages, and could hiccup Greek like a
Helot; and certainly Sparta never shocked her
children with a grosser exhibition than this man's
intoxication.

" I perceive, in the book you sent me, a long ac-
count of him, which is very savage. I cannot judge,
as I never saw him sober, except in hall or combin-
G 3

86 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

ation-room ; and then I was never near enough to
hear, and hardly to see him. Of his drunken de-
portment, I can be sure, because I saw it.

" With the Reviews I have been much entertained.
It requires to be as far from England as I am to relish
a periodical paper properly : it is like soda-water in
an Italian summer. But what cruel work you make
with Lady * * * * ! You should recollect that she
is a woman ; though, to be sure, they are now and
then very provoking ; still, as authoresses, they can
do no great harm ; and I think it a pity so much good
invective should have been laid out upon her, when
there is such a fine field of us Jacobin gentlemen for
you to work upon.

" I heard from Moore lately, and was sorry to be
made aware of his domestic loss. Thus it is —
* medio de fonte leporum ' — in the acme of his
fame and his happiness comes a drawback as usual.

" Mr. Hoppner, whom I saw this morning, has
been made the father of a very fine boy.* — Mother

* On the birth of this child, who was christened John Wil-
liam Rizzo, Lord Byron wrote the four following lines, which
are in no other respect remarkable than that they were thought
worthy of being metrically translated into no less than ten
different languages ; namely, Greek, Latin, Italian (also in the
Venetian dialect), German, French, Spanish, Illyrian, Hebrew,
Armenian, and Samaritan : —

" His father's sense, his mother's grace

In him, I hope, will always fit so ;

With (still to keep him in good case)

The health and appetite of Rizzo."

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 87

and child doing very well indeed. By this time
Hobhouse should be with you, and also certain
packets, letters, &c. of mine, sent since his departure.
— I am not at all well in health within this last
eight days. My remembrances to Gifford and all
friends. Yours, &c.

«B.

" P. S. In the course of a month or two, Hanson
will have probably to send off a clerk with convey-
ances to sign (Newstead being sold in November
last for ninety-four thousand five hundred pounds),
in which case I supplicate supplies of articles as
usual, for which, desire Mr. Kinnaird to settle from
funds in their bank, and deduct from my account
with him.

" P. S. To-morrow night I am going to see
' Otello,' an opera from our ' Othello,' and one or
Rossini's best, it is said. It will be curious to see
in Venice the Venetian story itself represented, be-
sides to discover what they will make of Shakspeare
in music."

LETTER 309. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" Venice, February 28. 1818.

" My dear Sir,

" Our friend, il Conte M., threw me into a cold
sweat last night, by telling me of a menaced version
of Manfred (in Venetian, I hope, to complete the
thing) by some Italian, who had sent it to you for

The original lines, with the different versions just men-
tioned, were printed, in a small neat volume (which now lies
before me), in the seminary of Padua.
G 4-

88 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

correction, which is the reason why I take the liberty
of troubling you on the subject. If you have any
means of communication with the man, would you
permit me to convey to him the offer of any price he
may obtain or think to obtain for his project, pro-
vided he will throw his translation into the fire*, and
promise not to undertake any other of that or any
other of my things : I will send his money imme-
diately on this condition.

" As I did not write to the Italians, nor for the
Italians, nor of the Italians, (except in a poem not
yet published, where I have said all the good I know
or do not know of them, and none of the harm,) I
confess I wish that they would let me alone, and not

* Having ascertained that the utmost this translator could
expect to make by his manuscript was two hundred francs,
Lord Byron offered him that sum, if he would desist from
publishing. The Italian, however, held out for more; nor
could he be brought to terms, till it was intimated to him pretty
plainly from Lord Byron that, should the publication be per-
sisted in, he would horsewhip him the very first time they
met. Being but little inclined to suffer martyrdom in the
cause, the translator accepted the two hundred francs, and
delivered up his manuscript, entering at the same time into a
written engagement never to translate any other of the noble
poet's works.

Of the qualifications of this person as a translator of English
poetry, some idea may be formed from the difficulty he found
himself under respecting the meaning of a line in the Incanta-
tion in Manfred, — " And the wisp on the morass," — which
he requested of Mr. Hoppner to expound to him, not having
been able to find in the dictionaries to which he had access
any other signification of the word " wisp " than " a bundle of
straw."

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 89

drag me into their arena as one of the gladiators, in
a silly contest which I neither understand nor have
ever interfered with, having kept clear of all their
literary parties, both here and at Milan, and else-
where. — I came into Italy to feel the climate and
be quiet, if possible. Mossi's translation I would
have prevented, if I had known it, or could have
done so ; and I trust that I shall yet be in time to
stop this new gentleman, of whom I heard yesterday
for the first time. He will only hurt himself, and do
no good to his party, for in party the whole thing
originates. Our modes of thinking and writing are
so unutterably different, that I can conceive no
greater absurdity than attempting to make any ap-
proach between the English and Italian poetry of the
present day. I like the people very much, and their
literature very much, but I am not the least ambi-
tious of being the subject of their discussions literary
and personal (which appear to be pretty much the
same thing, as is the case in most countries) ; and if
you can aid me in impeding this publication, you will
add to much kindness already received from you by
yours Ever and truly,

" BYRON.

" P. S. How is the son, and mamma? Well, I dare
say."

LETTER 310. TO MR. ROGERS.

" Venice, March 3. 1828.

" I have not, as you say, * taken to wife the
Adriatic.' I heard of Moore's loss from himself in
a letter which was delayed upon the road three

90 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

months. I was sincerely sorry for it, but in such
cases what are words ?

" The villa you speak of is one at Este, which Mr.
Hoppner (Consul-general here) has transferred to
me. I have taken it for two years as a place of Vil-
leggiatura. The situation is very beautiful, indeed,
among the Euganean hills, and the house very fair.
The vines are luxuriant to a great degree, and all
the fruits of the earth abundant. It is close to the
old castle of the Estes, or Guelphs, and within a few
miles of Arqua, which I have visited twice, and hope
to visit often.

" Last summer (except an excursion to Rome) I
passed upon the Brenta. In Venice I winter, trans-
porting my horses to the Lido, bordering the Adriatic
(where the fort is), so that I get a gallop of some
miles daily along the strip of beach which reaches to
Malamocco, when in health ; but within these few
weeks I have been unwell. At present I am getting
better. The Carnival was short, but a good one. I
don't go out much, except during the time of
masques; but there are one or two conversazioni,
where I go regularly, just to keep up the system ; as
I had letters to their givers ; and they are particu-
lar on such points ; and now and then, though very
rarely, to the Governor's.

" It is a very good place for women. I like the
dialect and their manner very much. There is a
naivete, about them which is very winning, and the
romance of the place is a mighty adjunct ; the bel
sangue is not, however, now amongst the dame or
higher orders ; but all under ifazzioli, or kerchiefs

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 91

(a white kind of veil which the lower orders wear
upon their heads) ; — the vesta zendale, or old national
female costume, is no more. The city, however, is
decaying daily, and does not gain in population.
However, I prefer it to any other in Italy ; and here
have I pitched my staff, and here do I purpose to
reside for the remainder of my life, unless events,
connected with business not to be transacted out of
England, compel me to return for that purpose ;
otherwise I have few regrets, and no desires to visit
it again for its own sake. I shall probably be obliged
to do so, to sign papers for my affairs, and a proxy
for the Whigs, and to see Mr. Waite, for I can't find
a good dentist here, and every two or three years
one ought to consult one. About seeing my children
I must take my chance. One I shall have sent here ;
and I shall be very happy to see the legitimate one,
when God pleases, which he perhaps will some day
or other. As for my mathematical * * *, I am as
well without her.

" Your account of your visit to Fonthill is very
striking : could you beg of him for me a copy in MS.
of the remaining Tales?* I think I deserve them,
as a strenuous and public admirer of the first one.
I will return it when read, and make no ill use of the
copy, if granted. Murray would send me out any
thing safely. If ever I return to England, I should

* A continuation of Vathek, by the author of that very
striking and powerful production. The " Tales " of which
this unpublished sequel consists are, I understand, those
supposed to have been related by the Princes in the Hall of
Eblis.

92 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

like very much to see the author, with his permission.
In the mean time, you could not oblige me more
than by obtaining me the perusal I request, in
French or English, — all's one for that, though I
prefer Italian to either. I have a French copy of
Vathek which I bought at Lausanne. I can read
French with great pleasure and facility, though I
neither speak nor write it. Now Italian I can speak
with some fluency, and write sufficiently for my pur-
poses, but I don't like their modern prose at all ;
it is very heavy, and so different from Machiavelli.

" They say Francis is Junius ; — I think it looks
like it. I remember meeting him at Earl Grey's at
dinner. Has not he lately married a young woman ;
and was not he Madame Talleyrand's cavaliere ser-
vente in India years ago ?

" I read my death in the papers, which was not
true. I see they are marrying the remaining single-
ness of the royal family. They have brought out
Fazio with great and deserved success at Covent
Garden : that's a good sign. I tried, during the di-
rectory, to have it done at Drury Lane, but was over-
ruled. If you think of coming into this country, you
will let me know perhaps beforehand. I suppose
Moore won't move. Rose is here. I saw him the
other night at Madame Albrizzi's ; he talks of re-
turning in May. My love to the Hollands.

« Ever, &c.

" P S. They have been crucifying Othello into an
opera ( Otello, by Rossini) : the music good, but
lugubrious ; but as for the words, all the real scenes
with lago cut out, and the greatest nonsense instead ;

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 93

the handkerchief turned into a billet-doux, and the
first singer would not black his face, for some exqui-
site reasons assigned in the preface. Singing, dresses,
and music, very good."

LETTER 311. TO MR. MOORE.

" Venice, March 16. 1818.
" My dear Tom,

" Since my last, which I hope that you have re-
ceived, I have had a letter from our friend Samuel.
He talks of Italy this summer — won't you come
with him ? I don't know whether you would like
our Italian way of life or not.

" They are an odd people. The other day I was
telling a girl, ' You must not come to-morrow, be-
cause Margueritta is coming at such a time,' — (they
are both about five feet ten inches high, with great
black eyes and fine figures — fit to breed gladiators
from — and I had some difficulty to prevent a battle
upon a rencontre once before,) — ' unless you pro-
mise to be friends, and ' — the answer was an inter-
ruption, by a declaration of war against the other,
which she said would be a * Guerra di Candia.' Is
it not odd, that the lower order of Venetians should
still allude proverbially to that famous contest, so
glorious and so fatal to the Republic ?

" They have singular expressions, like all the
Italians. For example, ' Viscere ' — as we would
say, « My love,' or « My heart,' as an expression of
tenderness. Also, * I would go for you into the
midst of a hundred knives.' — 'Mazza ben,' excessive

94 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

attachment, — literally, * I wish you well even to
killing.' Then they say (instead of our way, « Do
you think I would do you so much harm?') 'Do you
think I would assassinate you in such a manner?' —
* Tempo perfido,' bad weather ; ' Strade perfide,' bad
roads, — with a thousand other allusions and meta-
phors, taken from the state of society and habits in
the middle ages.

" I am not so sure about mazza, whether it don't
mean massa, i. e. a great deal, a mass, instead of the
interpretation I have given it. But of the other
phrases I am sure.

" Three o' th' clock — I must « to bed, to bed, to
bed,' as mother S * * (that tragical friend cf the
mathematical * * *) says.

" Have you ever seen — I forget what or whom
— no matter. They tell me Lady Melbourne is
very unwell. I shall be so sorry. She was my
greatest friend, of the feminine gender : — when I
say ' friend,' I mean not mistress, for that's the anti-
pode. Tell me all about you and every body — how
Sam is — how you like your neighbours, the Marquis
and Marchesa, &c. &c.

" Ever," &c.

LETTER 312. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, March 25. 1818.

« I have your letter, with the account of < Beppo,'
for which I sent you four new stanzas a fortnight
ago, in case you print, or reprint.

!818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 95

" Croker's is a good guess ; but the style is not
English, it is Italian ; — Berni is the original of all.
Whistlecraft was my immediate model! Rose's
* Animali' 1 never saw till a few days ago, — they
are excellent. But (as I said above) Berni is the
father of that kind of writing, which, I think, suits
our language, too, very well ; — we shall see by the
experiment. If it does, I shall send you a volume
in a year or two, for I know the Italian way of life
well, and in time may know it yet better ; and as
for the verse and the passions, I have them still in
tolerable vigour.

" If you think that it will do you ana the work, or
works, any good, you may put my name to it ; but
first consult the knowing ones. It will, at any rate,
show them that I can write cheerfully, and repel the
charge of monotony and mannerism.

" Yours," &c.

LETTER 313. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, April 11. 1818.

" Will you send me by letter, packet, or parcel,
half a dozen of the coloured prints from Holmes's
miniature (the latter done shortly before I left
your country, and the prints about a year ago) ; I
shall be obliged to you, as some people here have
asked me for the like. It is a picture of my upright
self done for Scrope B. Davies, Esq. *

* There follows, in this place, among other matter, a long
string of verses, in various metres, to the amount of about

96 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

" Why have you not sent me an answer, and list of
subscribers to the translation of the Armenian Euse-
bius ? of which I sent you printed copies of the pro-
spectus (in French) two moons ago. Have you had
the letter ? — I shall send you another : — you must
not neglect my Armenians. Tooth-powder, mag-
nesia, tincture of myrrh, tooth-brushes, diachylon
plaster, Peruvian bark, are my personal demands.

" Strahan, Tonson, Lintot of the times,
Patron and publisher of rhymes,
For thee the bard up Pindus climbs,
My Murray.

" To thee, with hope and terror dumb,
The unfledged M S. authors come ;
Thou printest all — and sellest some —
My Murray.

" Upon thy table's baize so green
The last new Quarterly is seen,
But where is thy new Magazine,
My Murray ?

" Along thy sprucest bookshelves shine
The works thou deemest most divine —
The ' Art of Cookery,' and mine,
My Murray.

sixty lines, so full of light gaiety and humour, that it is with
some reluctance I suppress them. They might, however, have
the effect of giving pain in quarters where even the author
himself would not have deliberately inflicted it ; — from a pen
like his, touches may be wounds, and without being actually
intended as such.

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 97

" Tours, Travels, Essays, too, I wist,
And Sermons to thy mill bring grist !
And then thou hast the « Navy List,*
My Murray.

" And Heaven forbid I should conclude
Without * the Board of Longitude,'
Although this narrow paper would,
My Murray ! "

LETTER 314. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Venice, April 12. 1818.

" This letter will be delivered by Signer Gioe.
Bata. Missiaglia, proprietor of the Apollo library,
and the principal publisher and bookseller now in
Venice. He sets out for London with a view to
business and correspondence with the English book-
sellers : and it is in the hope that it may be for your
mutual advantage that I furnish him with this letter
of introduction to you. If you can be of use to him,
either by recommendation to others, or by any per-
sonal attention on your own part, you will oblige
him and gratify me. You may also perhaps both be
able to derive advantage, or establish some mode of
literary communication, pleasing to the public, and
beneficial to one another.

" At any rate, be civil to him for my sake, as well
as for the honour and glory of publishers and authors
now and to come for evermore.

" With him I also consign a great number of MS.
letters written in English, French, and Italian, by
various English established in Italy during the last

VOL. IV. H

98 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

century: — the names of the writers, Lord Hervey,
Lady M. W. Montague, (hers are but few — some
billets-doux in French to Algarotti, and one letter in
English, Italian, and all sorts of jargon, to the same,)
Gray, the poet (one letter), Mason (two or three),
Garrick, Lord Chatham, David Hume, and many of
lesser note, — all addressed to Count Algarotti. Out
of these, I think, with discretion, an amusing mis-
cellaneous volume of letters might be extracted,
provided some good editor were disposed to under-
take the selection, and preface, and a few notes, £c.
" The proprietor of these is a friend of mine, Dr.
Aglietti, — a great name in Italy, — and if you are
disposed to publish, it will be for his benefit, and it is
to and for him that you will name a price, if you
take upon you the work, /would edite it myself,
but am too far off, and too lazy to undertake it ; but
I wish that it could be done. The letters of Lord
Hervey, in Mr. Rose's* opinion and mine,are good;

* Among Lord Byron's papers, I find some verses addressed
to him, about this time, by Mr. W. Rose, with the following
note annexed to them : — " These verses were sent to me by
W. S. Rose, from Abaro, in the spring of 1818. They are
good and true ; and Rose is a fine fellow, and one of the few
English who understand Italy, without which Italian is nothing."
The verses begin thus :

" Byron f, while you make gay what circle fits ye,
Bandy Venetian slang with the Benzon,
Or play at company with the Albrizzi,

t " I have hunted out a precedent for this unceremonious
address."

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 99

and the short French love letters certainly are Lady
M. W. Montague's — the French not good, but the
sentiments beautiful. Gray's letter good ; and
Mason's tolerable. The whole correspondence must
be well weeded ; but this being done, a small and
pretty popular volume might be made of it. — There
are many ministers' letters — Gray, the ambassador
at Naples, Horace Mann, and others of the same
kind of animal.

" I thought of a preface, defending Lord Hervey
against Pope's attack, but Pope — quoad Pope, the
poet — against all the world, in the unjustifiable
attempts begun by Warton and carried on at this
day by the new school of critics and scribblers, who
think themselves poets because they do not write
like Pope. I have no patience with such cursed
humbug and bad taste ; your whole generation are
not worth a Canto of the Rape of the Lock, or the
Essay on Man, or the Dunciad, or ' any thing that
is his.' — But it is three in the matin, and I must go
to bed. Yours alway," &c.

LETTER 315. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, April 17. 1818.

" A few days ago, I wrote to you a letter, requesting
vou to desire Hanson to desire his messenger to

The self-pleased pedant, and patrician crone,
Grimanis, Mocenigos, Balbis, Rizzi,
Compassionate our cruel case, — alone,
Our pleasure an academy of frogs,
Who nightly serenade us from the bogs," &c. &c.
H 2

100 . NOTICES OF THE 1818.

come on from Geneva to Venice, because I won't go
from Venice to Geneva ; and if this is not done, the
messenger may be damned, with him who mis-sent
him. Pray reiterate my request.
• " With the proofs returned, I sent two additional
stanzas for Canto fourth : did they arrive ?

" Your Monthly reviewer has made a mistake :
Cavaliere, alone, is well enough; but 'Cavalier'
servente' has always the e mute in conversation, and
omitted in writing ; so that it is not for the sake of
metre; and pray let Griffiths know this, with my
compliments. I humbly conjecture that I know as
much of Italian society and language as any of his
people ; but, to make assurance doubly sure, I asked,
at the Countess Benzona's last night, the question
of more than one person in the office, and of these

* cavalierz serventz' (in the plural, recollect) I found
that they all accorded in pronouncing for ' cavalier*
servente' in the singular number. I wish Mr. * * * *
(or whoever Griffiths' scribbler may be) would not
talk of what he don't understand. Such fellows are
not fit to be intrusted with Italian, even in a quota-
tion.

" Did you receive two additional stanzas, to be in-
serted towards the close of Canto fourth ? Respond,
that (if not) they may be sent.

* " Tell Mr. * * and Mr. Hanson that they may as
well expect Geneva to come to me, as that I should
go to Geneva. The messenger may go on or return,
as he pleases ; I won't stir : and I look upon it as a
piece of singular absurdity in those who know me
imagining that I should; — not to say malice, in

1818.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 101

attempting unnecessary torture. If, on the occasion,
my interests should suffer, it is their neglect that is
to blame ; and they may all be d — d together.
" It is ten o'clock and time to dress.

" Yours," &c.

LETTER 316. TO MR. MURRAY.

" April 23. 1818.

" The time is past in which I could feel for the
dead, — or I should feel for the death of Lady
Melbourne, the best, and kindest, and ablest female
I ever knew, old or young. But * I have supped
full of horrors,' and events of this kind have only a
kind of numbness worse than pain, — like a violent
blow on the elbow or the head. There is one link
less between England and myself.

" Now to business. I presented you with Beppo,
as part of the contract for Canto fourth, — consider-
ing the price you are to pay for the same, and in-
tending to eke you out in case of public caprice or
my own poetical failure. If you choose to suppress
it entirely, at Mr. * * * *'s suggestion, you may do
as you please. But recollect it is not to be published
in a garbled or mutilated state. I reserve to my
friends and myself the right of correcting the press ;
— if the publication continue, it is to continue in its
present form.

" As Mr. * * says that he did not write this letter,

&c. I am ready to believe him ; but for the firmness

of my former persuasion, I refer to Mr. * * * *, who

can inform you how sincerely I erred on this point.

H 3

102 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

He has also the note — or, at least, had it, for I gave
it to him with my verbal comments thereupon. As
to * Beppo,' I will not alter or suppress a syllable
for any man's pleasure but my own.

" You may tell them this ; and add, that nothing
but force or necessity shall stir me one step towards
places to which they would wring me.

"If your literary matters prosper let me know.
If' Beppo' pleases, you shall have more in a year or
two in the same mood. And so ' Good morrow to
you, good Master Lieutenant.' Yours," &c.

LETTER 317. TO MR. MOORE.

" Palazzo Mocenigo, Canal Grande,
" Venice, June 1. 1818.

" Your letter is almost the only news, as yet, of
Canto fourth, and it has by no means settled its fate,

— at least, does not tell me how the ' Poeshie' has
been received by the public. But I suspect, no
great things, — firstly, from Murray's 'horrid still-
ness ;' secondly, from what you say about the stanzas
running into each other*, which I take not to be
yours, but a notion you have been dinned with among
the Blues. The fact is, that the terza rima of the
Italians, which always runs on and in, may have led
me into experiments, and carelessness into conceit

— or conceit into carelessness — in either of which
events failure will be probable, and my fair woman,

* I had said, I think, in my letter to him, that this practice
of carrying one stanza into another was " something like taking
on horses another stage without baiting."

i818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 103

' superne,' end in a fish ; so that Childe Harold will
be like the mermaid, my family crest, with the
fourth Canto for a tail thereunto. I won't quarrel
with the public, however, for the * Bulgars' are
generally right ; and if I miss now, I may hit another
time : — and so, the ' gods give us joy.'

" You like Beppo, that's right. I have not had
the Fudges yet, but live in hopes. I need not say
that your successes are mine. By the way, Lydia
White is here, and has just borrowed my copy of
1 Lalla Rookh.'

" Hunt's letter is probably the exact piece of
vulgar coxcombry you might expect from his situa-
tion. He is a good man, with some poetical elements
in his chaos ; but spoilt by the Christ- Church Hos-
pital and a Sunday newspaper, — to say nothing of
the Surrey gaol, which conceited him into a martyr.
But he is a good man. When I saw < Rimini ' in
MS., I told him that I deemed it good poetry at
bottom, disfigured only by a strange style. His
answer was, that his style was a system, or upon
system, or some such cant ; and, when a man talks
of system, his case is hopeless : so I said no more
to him, and very little to any one else.

" He believes his trash of vulgar phrases tortured
into compound barbarisms to be old English ; and we
may say of it as Aimwell says of Captain Gibbet's
regiment, when the Captain calls it an ' old corps,'
— « the oldest in Europe, if I may judge by your uni-
form.' He sent out his ' Foliage ' by Percy Shelley
* * *, and, of all the ineffable Centaurs that were
ever begotten by Self-love upon a Night-mare, I think

104? NOTICES OF THE 1818.

this monstrous Sagittary the most prodigious. He
(Leigh H.) is an honest charlatan, who has per-
suaded himself into a belief of his own impostures,
and talks Punch in pure simplicity of heart, taking
himself (as poor Fitzgerald said of himself in the
Morning Post) for Votes in both senses, or nonsenses,
of the word. Did you look at the translations of his
own which he prefers to Pope and Cowper, and says
so ? — Did you read his skimble-skamble about * *
being at the head of his own profession., in the eyes of
those who followed it ? I thought that poetry was
an art, or an attribute, and not a profession ; — but be
it one, is that ****** at the head of your profes-
sion in your eyes ? I'll be curst if he is of mine, or
ever shall be. He is the only one of us (but of us he
is not) whose coronation I would oppose. Let them
take Scott, Campbell, Crabbe, or you, or me, or any
of the living, and throne him ; — but not this new
Jacob Behmen, this ****** whose pride might
have kept him true, even had his principles turned
as perverted as his soi-disant poetry.

" But Leigh Hunt is a good man, and a good
father — see his Odes to all the Masters Hunt ; —
a good husband — see his Sonnet to Mrs. Hunt ; —
a good friend — see his Epistles to different people ;
•i— and a great coxcomb and a very vulgar person
in every thing about him. But that's not his fault,
but of circumstances.*

* I had, in first transcribing the above letter for the press,
omitted the whole of this caustic, and, perhaps, over-severe
character of Mr. Hunt ; but the tone of that gentleman's book

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 105

" I do not know any good model for a life of
Sheridan but that of Savage. Recollect, however,
that the life of such a man may be made far more
amusing than if he had been a Wilberforce ; — and
this without offending the living, or insulting the
dead. The Whigs abuse him ; however, he never
left them, and such blunderers deserve neither credit
nor compassion. As for his creditors, — remember,
Sheridan never had a shilling, and was thrown, with
great powers and passions, into the thick of the
world, and placed upon the pinnacle of success,
with no other external means to support him in his
elevation. Did Fox * * * pay his debts ? — or did
Sheridan take a subscription ? Was the * * 's drunk-
enness more excusable than his ? Were his intrigues
more notorious than those of all his contemporaries ?
and is his memory to be blasted, and theirs re-
spected ? Don't let yourself be led away by clamour,
but compare him with the coalitioner Fox, and the
pensioner Burke, as a man of principle, and with
ten hundred thousand in personal views, and with
none in talent, for he beat them all out and out.
Without means, without connection, without char-
acter, (which might be false at first, and make him
mad afterwards from desperation,) he beat them all,
in all he ever attempted. But alas, poor human
nature ! Good night — or rather, morning. It is
four, and the dawn gleams over the Grand Canal,

having, as far as himself is concerned, released me from all
those scruples which prompted the suppression, I have con-
sidered myself at liberty to restore the passage.

106 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

and unshadows the Rialto. I must to bed ; up all
night — but, as George Philpot says, ' it's life, though,
damme, it's life ! ' Ever yours, B.

" Excuse errors — no time for revision. The post
goes out at noon, and I sha'n't be up then. I will
write again soon about your plan for a publication."

During the greater part of the period which this
last series of letters comprises, he had continued to
occupy the same lodgings in an extremely narrow
street called the Spezieria, at the house of the linen-
draper, to whose lady he devoted so much of his
thoughts. That he was, for the time, attached to this
person, — as far as a passion so transient can deserve
the name of attachment, — is evident from his whole
conduct. The language of his letters shows suffi-
ciently how much the novelty of this foreign tie had
caught his fancy ; and to the Venetians, among whom
such arrangements are mere matters of course, the
assiduity with which he attended his Signora to the
theatre, and the ridottos, was a subject of much
armisement. It was with difficulty, indeed, that he
could be prevailed upon to absent himself from her
so long as to admit of that hasty visit to the Immortal
City, out of which one of his own noblest titles to
immortality sprung ; and having, in the space of a
few weeks, drunk in more inspiration from all he
saw than, in a less excited state, possibly, he might
have imbibed in years, he again hurried back, with-
out extending his journey to Naples, — having writ-
ten to the fair Marianna to meet him at some
distance from Venice.

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 107

Besides some seasonable acts of liberality to the
husband, who had, it seems, failed in trade, he
also presented to the lady herself a handsome set
of diamonds ; and there is an anecdote related in
reference to this gift, which shows the exceeding
easiness and forbearance of his disposition towards
those who had acquired any hold on his heart. A
casket, which was for sale, being one day offered to
him, he was not a little surprised on discovering them
to be the same jewels which he had, not long be-
fore, presented to his fair favourite, and which had,
by some unromantic means, found their way back into
the market. Without enquiring, however, any further
into the circumstances, he generously repurchased
the casket and presented it to the lady once more,
good-humouredly taxing her with the very little
estimation in which, as it appeared, she held his
presents.

To whatever extent this unsentimental incident
may have had a share in dispelling the romance of
his passion, it is certain that, before the expiration
of the first twelvemonth, he began to find his lodg-
ings in the Spezieria inconvenient, and accordingly
entered into treaty with Count Gritti for his Palace
on the Grand Canal, — engaging to give for it, what
is considered, I believe, a large rent in Venice, 200
louis a year. On finding, however, that, in the
counterpart of the lease brought for his signature, a
new clause had been introduced, prohibiting him not
only from underletting the house, in case he should
leave Venice, but from even allowing any of his own
friends to occupy it during his occasional absence,

108 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

he declined closing on such terms ; and resenting
so material a departure from the original engagement,
declared in society, that he would have no objection
to give the same rent, though acknovvleged to
be exorbitant, for any other palace in Venice,
however inferior, in all respects, to Count Gritti's.
After such an announcement, he was not likely to
remain long unhoused ; and the Countess Mocenigo
having offered him one of her three Palazzi, on the
Grand Canal, he removed to this house in the sum-
mer of the present year, and continued to occupy it
during the remainder of his stay in Venice.

Highly censurable, in point of morality and deco-
rum, as was his course of life while under the roof
of Madame * *, it was (with pain I am forced to
confess) venial in comparison with the strange,
headlong career of licence to which, when weaned
from that connection, he so unrestrainedly and, it
may be added, defyingly abandoned himself. Of
the state of his mind on leaving England I have
already endeavoured to convey some idea, and,
among the feelings that went to make up that self-
centred spirit of resistance which he then opposed
to his fate, was an indignant scorn of his own coun-
trymen for the wrongs he thought they had done
him. For a time, the kindly sentiments which he
still harboured towards Lady Byron, and a sort of
vague hope, perhaps, that all would yet come right
again, kept his mind in a mood somewhat more
softened and docile, as well as sufficiently under the
influence of English opinion to prevent his breaking

1818. LIFE OF LOUD BYRON. 109

out into such open rebellion against it, as he unluckily
did afterwards.

By the failure of the attempted mediation with
Lady Byron, his last link with home was severed ;
while, notwithstanding the quiet and unobtrusive
life which he had led at Geneva, there was as yet,
he found, no cessation of the slanderous warfare
against his character ; — the same busy and misre-
presenting spirit which had tracked his every step
at home having, with no less malicious watchfulness,
dogged him into exile. To this persuasion, for
which he had but too much grounds, was added all
that an imagination like his could lend to truth, —
all that he was left to interpret, in his own way, of
the absent and the silent, — till, at length, arming
himself against fancied enemies and wrongs, and,
with the condition (as it seemed to him) of an out-
law, assuming also the desperation, he resolved, as
his countrymen would not do justice to the better
parts of his nature, to have, at least, the perverse
satisfaction of braving and shocking them with the
worst. It is to this feeling, I am convinced, far
more than to any depraved taste for such a course
of life, that the extravagances to which he now, for
a short time, gave loose, are to be attributed. The
exciting effect, indeed, of this mode of existence
while it lasted, both upon his spirits and his genius,
— so like what, as he himself tells us, was always pro-
duced in him by a state of contest and defiance, —
showed how much of this latter feeling must have
been mixed with his excesses. The altered cha-
racter too, of his letters in this respect cannot fail,

110 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

I think, to be remarked by the reader, — there
being, with an evident increase of intellectual vigour,
a tone of violence and bravado breaking out in them
continually, which marks the high pitch of re-action
to which he had now wound up his temper.

In fact, so far from the powers of his intellect
being at all weakened or dissipated by these irregu-
larities, he was, perhaps, at no time of his life, so
actively in the full possession of all its energies ; and
his friend Shelley, who went to Venice, at this pe-
riod, to see him *, used to say, that all he observed of

* The following are extracts from a letter of Shelley's to a
friend at this time.

" Venice, August, 1818.

" We came from Padua hither in a gondola ; and the gon-
dolier, among other things, without any hint on our part, be-
gan talking of Lord Byron. He said he was a * Giovanotto
Inglese,' with a ' nome stravagante,' who lived very luxuri-
ously, and spent great sums of money.

" At three o'clock I called on Lord Byron. He was delighted
to see me, and our first conversation of course consisted in the
object of our visit. He took me in his gondola, across the
Laguna, to a long, strandy sand, which defends Venice from
the Adriatic. When we disembarked, we found his horses
waiting for us, and we rode along the sands, talking. Our
conversation consisted in histories of his own wounded feelings,
and questions as to my affairs, with great professions of friend-
ship and regard for me. He said that if he had been in
England, at the time of the Chancery affair, he would have
moved heaven and earth to have prevented such a decision.
He talked of literary matters, — his fourth Canto, which he
says is very good, and indeed repeated some stanzas, of great
energy, to me. When we returned to his palace, which is one
^f the most magnificent in Venice," &c. &c.

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. Ill

the workings of Byron's mind, during his visit, gave
him a far higher idea of its powers than he had ever
before entertained. It was, indeed, then that Shelley
sketched out, and chiefly wrote, his poem of " Ju-
lian and Maddalo," in the latter of which personages
he has so picturesquely shadowed forth his noble
friend * ; and the allusions to " the Swan of Albion,"
in his " Lines written among the Euganean Hills,"
were also, I understand, the result of the same
access of admiration and enthusiasm.

In speaking of the Venetian women, in one of the

* In the preface also to this poem, under the fictitious name
of Count Maddalo, the following just and striking portrait of
Lord Byron is drawn : —

" He is a person of the most consummate genius, and capa-
ble, if he would direct his energies to such an end, of becoming
the redeemer of his degraded country. But it is his weakness
to be proud : he derives, from a comparison of his own ex-
traordinary mind with the dwarfish intellects that surround him,
an intense apprehension of the nothingness of human life. His
passions and his powers are incomparably greater than those of
other men, and instead of the latter having been employed in
curbing the former, they have mutually lent each other strength.
His ambition preys upon itself for want of objects which it can
consider worthy of exertion. I say that Maddalo is proud,
because I can find no other word to express the concentred and
impatient feelings which consume him ; but it is on his own
hopes and affections only that he seems to trample, for in social
life no human being can be more gentle, patient, and un-
assuming than Maddalo. He is cheerful, frank, and witty.
His more serious conversation is a sort of intoxication. He
has travelled much ; and there is an inexpressible charm in his
relation of his adventures in different countries. "

112 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

preceding letters, Lord Byron, it will be recollected,
remarks, that the beauty for which they were once
so celebrated is no longer now to be found among
the " Dame," or higher orders, but all under the
" fazzioli," or kerchiefs, of the lower. It was,
unluckily, among these latter specimens of the
" bel sangue " of Venice that he now, by a sudden-
ness of descent in the scale of refinement, for which
nothing but the present wayward state of his mind
can account, chose to select the companions of his
disengaged hours ; — and an additional proof that, in
this short, daring career of libertinism, he was but
desperately seeking relief for a wronged and mor-
tified spirit, and

" What to us seem'd guilt might be but woe," —

is that, more than once, of an evening, when his
house has been in the possession of such visitants,
he has been known to hurry away in his gondola,
and pass the greater part of the night upon the
water, as if hating to return to his home. It is, in-
deed, certain, that to this least defensible portion of
his whole life he always looked back, during the
short remainder of it, with painful self-reproach;
and among the causes of the detestation which he
afterwards felt for Venice, this recollection of the
excesses to which he had there abandoned himself
was not the least prominent.

The most distinguished and, at last, the reigning
favourite of all this unworthy Harem was a woman
named Margarita Cogni, who has been already men-

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON 113

tioned in one of these letters, and who, from the
trade of her husband, was known by the title of the
Fornarina. A portrait of this handsome virago,
drawn by Harlowe when at Venice, having fallen
into the hands of one of Lord Byron's friends after
the death of that artist, the noble poet, on being ap-
plied to for some particulars of his heroine, wrote a
long letter on the subject, from which the following
are extracts : —

" Since you desire the story of Margarita Cogni,
you shall be told it, though it may be lengthy,

" Her face is the fine Venetian cast of the old
time ; her figure, though perhaps too tall, is not less
fine — and taken altogether in the national dress.

" In the summer of 181 7, **** and myself were
sauntering on horseback along the Brenta one even-
ing, when, amongst a group of peasants, we re-
marked two girls as the prettiest we had seen for
some time. About this period, there had been
great distress in the country, and I had a little re-
lieved some of the people. Generosity makes a
great figure at very little cost in Venetian livres,
and mine had probably been exaggerated as an En-
glishman's. Whether they remarked us looking at
them or no, I know not ; but one of them called out
to me in Venetian, ' Why do not you, who relieve
others, think of us also ?' I turned round and an-
swered her — <Cara, tu sei troppo bella e giovane
per aver' bisogna del* soccorso mio.' She answered,
« If you saw my hut and my food, you would not say
so.' All this passed half jestingly, and I saw no
more of her for some days.

VOL. IV. I

114 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

« A few evenings after, we met with these two
girls again, and they addressed us more seriously,
assuring us of the truth of their statement. They
were cousins ; Margarita married, the other single.
As I doubted still of the circumstances, I took the
business in a different light, and made an appoint-
ment with them for the next evening. In short, in
a few evenings we arranged our affairs, and for a
long space of time she was the only one who pre-
served over me an ascendency which was often
disputed, and never impaired.

" The reasons of this were, firstly, her person ; —
very dark, tall, the Venetian face, very fine black
eyes. She was two-and-twenty years old, * * *
She was, besides, a thorough Venetian in her dialect,
in her thoughts, in her countenance, in every thing,
with all their naivete and pantaloon humour. Be-
sides, she could neither read nor write, and could
not plague me with letters, — except twice that she
paid sixpence to a public scribe, under the piazza,
to make a letter for her, upon some occasion when
I was ill and could not see her. In other respects, she
was somewhat fierce and * prepotente,' that is, over-
bearing, and used to walk in whenever it suited her,
with no very great regard to time, place, ' nor per-
sons ; and if she found any women in her way, she
knocked them down.

" When I first knew her, I was in « relazione '
(liaison) with la Signora * *, who was silly enough
one evening at Dolo, accompanied by some of her
female friends, to threaten her ; for the gossips of
the villeggiatura had already found out, by the

1818. LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 115

neighing of my horse one evening, that I used to
* ride late in the night ' to meet the Fornarina. Mar-
garita threw back her veil (fazziolo), and replied in
very explicit Venetian, * You are not his wife: I
am not his wife : you are his Donna, and / am his
Donna: your husband is a becco, and mine is
another. For the rest, what right have you to
reproach me ? If he prefers me to you, is it my
fault? If you wish to secure him, tie him to your
petticoat-string. — But do not think to speak to me
without a reply, because you happen to be richer
than I am.' Having delivered this pretty piece of
eloquence (which I translate as it was related to me
by a bystander), she went on her way, leaving a nu-
merous audience with Madame * *, to ponder at her
leisure on the dialogue between them.

" When I came to Venice for the winter, she fol-
lowed ; and as she found herself out to be a favourite,
she came to me pretty often. But she had inordi-
nate self-love, and was not tolerant of other women.
At the c Cavalchina,' the masked ball on the last
night of the carnival, where all the world goes, she
snatched off the mask of Madame Contarini, a lady
noble by birth, and decent in conduct, for no other
reason, but because she happened to be leaning on
my arm. You may suppose what a cursed noise
this made ; but this is only one of her pranks.

" At last she quarrelled with her husband, and one
evening ran away to my house. I told her this would
not do : she said she would lie in the street, but not go
back to him ; that he beat her, (the gentle tigress !)
spent her money, and scandalously neglected her.
i 2

116 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

As it was midnight I let her stay, and next day there
was no moving her at all. Her husband came, roar-
ing and crying, and entreating her to come back : —
not she I He then applied to the police, and they
applied to me: I told them and her husband to take
her ; I did not want her ; she had come, and I could not
fling her out of the window ; but they might conduct
her through that or the door if they chose it. She
went before the commissary, but was obliged to
return with that < becco ettico,' as she called the
poor man, who had a phthisic. In a few days she
ran away again. After a precious piece of work,
she fixed herself in my house, really and truly with-
out my consent ; but, owing to my indolence, and
not being able to keep my countenance, for if I began
in a rage, she always finished by making me laugh
with some Venetian pantaloonery or another ; and
the gipsy knew this well enough, as well as her other
powers of persuasion, and exerted them with the
usual tact and success of all she-things ; high and
low, they are all alike for that.

" Madame Benzoni also took her under her pro-
tection, and then her head turned. She was always
in extremes, either crying or laughing, and so fierce
when angered, that she was the terror of men,
women, and children — for she had the strength of
an Amazon, with the temper of Medea. She was a
fine animal, but quite untameable. / was the only
person that could at all keep her in any order, and
when she saw me really angry (which they tell me
is a savage sight), she subsided. But she had a
thousand fooleries. In her fazziolo, the dress of

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 117

the lower orders, she looked beautiful ; but, alas !
she longed for a hat and feathers ; and all I could
say or do (and I said much) could not prevent this
travestie. I put the first into the fire ; but I got
tired of burning them, before she did of buying
them, so that she made herself a figure — for they
did not at all become her.

" Then she would have her gowns with a tail —
like a lady, forsooth ; nothing would serve her but
' 1'abita colla coua,' or cua, (that is the Venetian for
' la cola,' the tail or train,) and as her cursed pro-
nunciation of the word made me laugh, there was
an end of all controversy, and she dragged this
diabolical tail after her every where.

" In the mean time, she beat the women and
stopped my letters. I found her one day pondering
over one. She used to try to find out by their shape
whether they were feminine or no ; and she used to
lament her ignorance, and actually studied her
alphabet, on purpose (as she declared) to open all
letters addressed to me and read their contents.

" I must not omit to do justice to her housekeep-
ing qualities. After she came into my house as
* donna di governo,' the expenses were reduced to
less than half, and every body did their duty better
— the apartments were kept in order, and every
thing and every body else, except herself.

" That she had a sufficient regard for me in her
wild way, I had many reasons to believe. I will
mention one. In the autumn, one day, going to the
Lido with my gondoliers, we were overtaken by a
heavy squall, and the gondola put in peril — hats

118 KOTfCES OF THE 1818.

blown away, boat 6Ding, oar lost, tumbling tea,
thunder, rain in torrents, night coming, and wind
unceasing. On our return, after a tight struggle, I
found her on the open step* of the Mocenigo palace,
on the Grand Canal, with her great black eyes
flashing through her tears, and the long dark hair,
which was streaming, drenched with rain, over her
brows and breast. She was perfectly exposed to
the storm ; and the wind blowing her hair and dress
about her thin tall figure, and the lightning flashing
round her, and the waves rolling at her feet, made
her look like Medea alighted from her chariot, or the
Sibyl of the tempest that was rolling around her,
the only living thing within hail at that moment ex-
cept ourselves. On teeing me safe, she did not
wait to greet me, as might have been expected, but
calling out to me — * Ah J can' della Madonna, xe
esto il tempo per aridar* aT Lido ? ' (Ah ! dog of the
Virgin, is this a time to go to Lido ?) ran into the
house, and solaced herself with scolding the boatmen
for not foreseeing the * temporale/ I am told by the
servants that she had only been prevented from
coming in a boat to look after me, by the refusal of all
the gondolier* of the canal to put out into the liar*
bour in such a moment ; and that then she sat down
on the steps in all the thickest of the squall, and
would neither be removed nor comforted. Her joy
at seeing me again was moderately mixed with fero-
city, and gave me the idea of a tigress over her
recovered cubs.

" But her reign drew near a close. She became
quite ungovernable some months after, and a con*

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON*. 119

currence of complaints, some true, and many false
«— « a favourite has no friends ' — determined me to
part with her. I told her quietly that she must re-
turn home, (she had acquired a sufficient provision
for herself and mother, &c. in my service,) and she
refused to quit the house. I was firm, and she
went threatening knives and revenge. I told her
that I had seen knives drawn before her time, and
that if she chose to begin, there was a knife, and fork
also, at her service on the table, and that intimida-
tion would not do. The next day, while I was at
dinner, she walked in, (having broken open a glass
door that led from the hall below to the staircase, by
way of prologue,) and advancing straight up to the
table, snatched the knife from my hand, cutting me
slightly in the thumb in the operation. Whether
she meant to use this against herself or me, I know
not — probably against neither — but Fletcher seized
her by the arms, and disarmed her. I then called
my boatmen, and desired them to get the gondola
ready, and conduct her to her own house again, see*
ing carefully that she did herself no mischief by
seemed quite quiet, and walked down
stairs. I resumed my dinner.

« We heard a great noise, and went out, and met
them on the staircase, carrying her up stairs. She
had thrown herself into the canal. That she intended
to destroy herself, I do not believe ; but when we
consider the tear women and men who can't swim
have of deep or even of shallow water, (and the Ve-
netians in particular, though they live on the waves,)
ami that it w.., xl dark, and very cokt

i i

120 NOTICES OF THE J818.

it shows that she had a devilish spirit of some sort
within her. They had got her out without much
difficulty or damage, excepting the salt water she
had swallowed, and the wetting she had undergone.

" I foresaw her intention to refix herself, and sent
for a surgeon, enquiring how many hours it would
require to restore her from her agitation ; and he
named the time. I then said, « I give you that
time, and more if you require it ; but at the expir-
ation of this prescribed period, if she does not leave
the house, /will.'

" All my people were consternated. They had
always been frightened at her, and were now para-
lysed : they wanted me to apply to the police, to
guard myself, &c. &c. like a pack of snivelling
servile boobies as they were. I did nothing of the
kind, thinking that I might as well end that way as
another ; besides, I had been used to savage women,
and knew their ways.

" I had her sent home quietly after her recovery,
and never saw her since, except twice at the opera,
at a distance amongst the audience. She made
many attempts to return, but no more violent ones.
And this is the story of Margarita Cogni, as far as
it relates to me.

" I forgot to mention that she was very devout,
and would cross herself if she heard the prayer
time strike.

" She was quick in reply ; as, for instance — One
day when she had made me very angry with beating
somebody or other, I called her a cow (cow., in Italian,
is a sad affront). I called her « Vacca.' She turned

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYROX. 121

round, courtesied, and answered, ' Vacca tua, 'ce-
lenza' (i. e. eccelenza). « Your cow, please your Ex-
cellency.' In short, she was, as I said before, a very
fine animal, of considerable beauty and energy, with
many good and several amusing qualities, but wild
as a witch and fierce as a demon. She used to boast
publicly of her ascendency over me, contrasting it
with that of other women, and assigning for it sundry
reasons. True it was, that they all tried to get her
away, and no one succeeded till her own absurdity
helped them.

" I omitted to tell you her answer, when I re-
proached her for snatching Madame Contarini's
mask at the Cavalchina. I represented to her that
she was a lady of high birth, ' una Dama,' &c. She
answered, * Se ella e dama mi (io) son Veneziana;'
— < If she is a lady, I am a Venetian.' This would
have been fine a hundred years ago, the pride of
the nation rising up against the pride of aristocracy :
but, alas ! Venice, and her people, and her nobles,
are alike returning fast to the ocean; and where
there is no independence, there can be no real self-
respect. I believe that I mistook or mis-stated one
of her phrases in my letter ; it should have been —
6 Can' della Madonna cosa vus* tu? esto non e
tempo per andar' a Lido ? ' '

It was at this time, as we shall see by the letters
I am about to produce, and as the features, indeed,
of the progeny itself would but too plainly indicate,
that he conceived, and wrote some part of, his
poem of ' Don Juan ;' — and never did pages more

122 NOTICES OF THE J818.

faithfully and, in many respects, lamentably, reflect
every variety of feeling, and whim, and passion that,
like the wrack of autumn, swept across the author's
mind in writing them. Nothing less, indeed, than
that singular combination of attributes, which existed
and were in full activity in his mind at this moment,
could have suggested, or been capable of, the exe-
cution of such a work. The cool shrewdness of
age, with the vivacity and glowing temperament of
youth, — the wit of a Voltaire, with the sensibility
of a Rousseau, — the minute, practical knowledge
of the man of society, with the abstract and self-
contemplative spirit of the poet, — a susceptibility
of all that is grandest and most affecting in human
virtue, with a deep, withering experience of all that
is most fatal to it, — the two extremes, in short, of
man's mixed and inconsistent nature, now rankly
smelling of earth, now breathing of heaven, — such
was the strange assemblage of contrary elements,
all meeting together in the same mind, and all
brought to bear, in turn, upon the same task, from
which alone could have sprung this extraordinary
poem, — the most powerful and, in many respects,
painful display of the versatility of genius that has
ever been left for succeeding ages to wonder at and
deplore.

I shall now proceed with his correspondence,
— having thought some of the preceding observ-
ations necessary, not only to explain to the reader
much of what he will find in these letters, but to
account to him for much that has been necessarily
omitted.

J818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 123

LETTER 318. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, June 18. 1818.

" Business and the utter and inexplicable silence
of all my correspondents renders me impatient and
troublesome. I wrote to Mr. Hanson for a balance
which is (or ought to be) in his hands ; — no answer.
I expected the messenger with the Newstead papers
two months ago, and instead of him, I received a
requisition to proceed to Geneva, which (from * *,
who knows my wishes and opinions about approach-
ing England) could only be irony or insult.

" I must, therefore, trouble you to pay into my
bankers' immediately whatever sum or sums you can
make it convenient to do on our agreement ; other-
wise, I shall be put to the severest and most imme-
diate inconvenience ; and this at a time when, by
every rational prospect and calculation, I ought to be
in the receipt of considerable sums. Pray do not
neglect this; you have no idea to what inconvenience
you will otherwise put me. * * had some absurd
notion about the disposal of this money in annuity (or
God knows what), which I merely listened to when
he was here to avoid squabbles and sermons ; but I
have occasion for the principal, and had never any
serious idea of appropriating it otherwise than to
answer my personal expenses. Hobhouse's wish is,
if .possible, to .force me back to England * : he will
not succeed ; and if he did, I would not stay. I
_hate the country, and like this ; and all foolish op-

* Deeply is it, for many reasons, to be regretted that this
friendly purpose did not succeed.

124? NOTICES OF THE

1818.

position, of course, merely adds to the feeling. Your
silence makes me doubt the success of Canto
fourth. If it has failed, I will make such deduction
as you think proper and fair from the original agree-
ment ; but I could wish whatever is to be paid were
remitted to me, without delay, through the usual
channel, by course of post.

" When I tell you that I have not heard a word
from England since very early in May, I have made
the eulogium of my friends, or the persons who call
themselves so, since I have written so often and in
the greatest anxiety. Thank God, the longer I
am absent, the less cause I see for regretting the
country or its living contents. I am yours," &c.

LETTER 319. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, July 10. 1818.

" I have received your letter and the credit from
Morlands, &c. for whom I have also drawn upon
you at sixty days' sight for the remainder, according
to your proposition.

" I am still waiting in Venice, in expectancy of
the arrival of Hanson's clerk. What can detain
him, I do not know ; but I trust that Mr. Hobhouse,
and Mr. Kinnaird, when their political fit is abated,
will take the trouble to enquire and expedite him,
as I have nearly a hundred thousand pounds de-
pending upon the completion of the sale and the
signature of the papers.

" The draft on you is drawn up by Siri and Will-

J818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 125

halm. I hope that the form is correct. I signed it
two or three days ago, desiring them to forward it
to Messrs. Morland and Ransom.

" Your projected editions for November had better
be postponed, as I have some things in project, or
preparation, that may be of use to you, though not
very important in themselves. I have completed an
Ode on Venice, and have two Stories, one serious
and one ludicrous (a la Beppo), not yet finished,
and in no hurry to be so.

" You talk of the letter to Hobhouse being much
admired, and speak of prose. I think of writing
(for your full edition) some Memoirs of my life, to
prefix to them, upon the same model (though far
enough, I fear, from reaching it) of Gifford, Hume,
&c. ; and this without any intention of making dis-
closures or remarks upon living people, which would
be unpleasant to them : but I think it might be done,
and well done. However, this is to be considered.
I have materials in plenty, but the greater part of
them could not be used by me, nor for these hun-
dred years to come. However, there is enough
without these, and merely as a literary man, to make
a preface for such an edition as you meditate. But
this is by the way : I have not made up my mind.

" I enclose you a note on the subject of * Pa-
risina, which Hobhouse can dress for you. It is an
extract of particulars from a history of Ferrara.

" I trust you have been attentive to Missiaglia, for
the English have the character of neglecting the
Italians, at present, which I hope you will redeem.
" Yours in haste, B."

126 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

LETTER 320. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, July 17. 1818.

" I suppose that Aglietti will take whatever you
offer, but till his return from Vienna I can make him
no proposal ; nor, indeed, have you authorised me to
do so. The three French notes are by Lady Mary;
also another half-English-French-Italian. They are
very pretty and passionate ; it is a pity that a piece
of one of them is lost. Algarotti seems to have
treated her ill ; but she was much his senior, and all
women are used ill — or say so, whether they are
or not.

" I shall be glad of your books and powders. I
am still in waiting for Hanson's clerk, but luckily
not at Geneva. All my good friends wrote to me
to hasten there to meet him, but not one had the
good sense or the good nature, to write afterwards
to tell me that it would be time and ajourney thrown
away, as he could not set off for some months after
the period appointed. If I had taken the journey
on the general suggestion, I never would have spoken,
again to one of you as long as I existed. I have
written to request Mr. Kinnaird, when the foam of
his politics is wiped away, to extract a positive
answer from that * * * *, and not to keep me in a
state of suspense upon the subject. I hope that
Kinnaird, who has my power of attorney, keeps a
look-out upon the gentleman, which is the more
necessary, as I have a great dislike to the idea of
coming over to look after him myself.

" I have several things begun, verse and prose,

1818. LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 127

but none in much forwardness. I have written some
six or seven sheets of a Life, which I mean to con-
tinue, and send you when finished. It may perhaps
serve for your projected editions. If you would tell
me exactly (for I know nothing, and have no corre-
spondents except on business) the state of the re-
ception of our late publications, and the feeling
upon them, without consulting any delicacies (I am
too seasoned to require them), I should know how
and in what manner to proceed. I should not like
to give them too much, which may probably have
been the case already; but, as I tell you, I know
nothing.

" I once wrote from the fulness of my mind and
the love of fame, (not as an end, but as a means, to
obtain that influence over men's minds which is
power in itself and in its consequences,) and now
from habit and from avarice ; so that the effect may
probably be as different as the inspiration. I have
the same facility, and indeed necessity, of com-
position, to avoid idleness (though idleness in a hot
country is a pleasure), but a much greater indif-
ference to what is to become of it, after it has
served my immediate purpose. However, I should

on no account like to but I won't go on, like

the Archbishop of Granada, as I am very sure that
you dread the fate of Gil Bias, and with good
reason. Yours, &c.

" P. S. I have written some very savage letters to
Mr. Hobhouse, Kinnaird, to you, and to Hanson,
because the silence of so long a time made me tear
off my remaining rags of patience. I have seen one

128 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

or two late English publications which are no great
things, except Rob Roy. I shall be glad of Whistle-
craft."

LETTER 321. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, August 26. 1818.

" You may go on with your edition, without cal-
culating on the Memoir, which I shall not publish at
present. It is nearly finished, but will be too long ;
and there are so many things, which, out of regard
to the living, cannot be mentioned, that I have writ-
ten with too much detail of that which interested
me least ; so that my autobiographical Essay would
resemble the tragedy of Hamlet at the country
theatre, recited * with the part of Hamlet left out
by particular desire.' I shall keep it among my
papers ; it will be a kind of guide-post in case of
death, and prevent some of the lies which would
otherwise be told, and destroy some which have
been told already.

" The tales also are in an unfinished state, and I
can fix no time for their completion : they are also
not in the best manner. You must not, therefore,
calculate upon any thing in time for this edition.
The Memoir is already above forty-four sheets of
very large, long paper, and will be about fifty or
sixty; but I wish to go on leisurely; and when
finished, although it might do a good deal for you
at the time, I am not sure that it would serve any
good purpose in the end either, as it is full of many
passions and prejudices, of which it has been impos-

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 129

sible for me to keep clear: — I have not the pa-
tience.

" Enclosed is a list of books which Dr. Aglietti
would be glad to receive by way of price for his MS.
letters; if you are disposed to purchase at the rate
of fifty pounds sterling. These he will be glad to
have as part, and the rest /will give him in money,
and you may carry it to the account of books, &c»
which is in balance against me, deducting it accord-
ingly. So that the letters are yours, if you like
them, at this rate ; and he and I are going to hunt
for more Lady Montague letters, which he thinks
of finding. I write m haste. Thanks for the article*

and believe me

" Yours," &c.

To the charge brought against Lord Byron by
some English travellers of being, in general, repul-
sive and inhospitable to his own countrymen, I have
already made allusion; and shall now add to the
testimony then cited in disproof of such a charge
some particulars, communicated to me by Captairi
Basil Hall, which exhibit the courtesy and kindliness
of the noble poet's disposition in their true, natural
light.

« On the last day of August, 1818 (says this dis-
tinguished writer and traveller), I was taken ill with
an ague at Venice, and having heard enough of the
low state of the medical art in that country, I was
not a little anxious as to the advice I should take;
I was not acquainted with any person in Venice to
whom I could refer, and had only one letter of in-

VOL. IV. K

130 . NOTICES OF THE 1818.

troduction, which was to Lord Byron ; but as there
were many stories floating about of his Lordship's
unwillingness to be pestered with tourists, I had felt
unwilling, before this moment, to intrude myself in
that shape. Now, however, that I was seriously
unwell, I felt sure that this offensive character would
merge in that of a countryman in distress, and I
sent the letter by one of my travelling companions
to Lord Byrcn's lodgings, with a note, excusing the
liberty I was taking, explaining that I was in want
of medical assistance, and saying I should not send
to any one till I heard the name of the person who,
in his Lordship's opinion, was the best practitioner in
Venice.

" Unfortunately for me, Lord Byron was still in
bed, though it was near noon, and still more unfor-
tunately, the bearer of my message scrupled to
awake him, without first coming back to consult me.
By this time I was in all the agonies of a cold ague
fit, and, therefore, not at all in a condition to be
consulted upon any thing — so I replied pettishly,
* Oh, by no means disturb Lord Byron on my ac-
count— ring for the landlord, and send for any one
he recommends.' This absurd injunction being forth-
with and literally attended to, in the course of an
hour I was under the discipline of mine host's friend,
whose skill and success it is no part of my present
purpose to descant upon : — it is sufficient to men-
tion that I was irrevocably in his hands long before
the following most kind note was brought to me, in
great haste, by Lord Byron's servant.

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 133

" « Venice, August 31. 1818.
« < Dear Sir,

" * Dr. Aglietti is the best physician, not only
in Venice, but in Italy : his residence is on the Grand
Canal, and easily found ; I forget the number, but
am probably the only person in Venice who don't
know it. There is no comparison between him and
any of the other medical people here. I regret very
much to hear of your indisposition, and shall do
myself the honour of waiting upon you the moment
I am up. I write this in bed, and have only just
received the letter and note. I beg you to believe
that nothing but the extreme lateness of my hours
could have prevented me from replying immediately,
or coming in person. I have not been called a mi-
nute. — I have the honour to be, very truly,

" < Your most obedient servant, ,
« « BYRON/

" His Lordship soon followed this note, and I
heard his voice in the next room ; but although he
waited more than an hour, I could not see him,
being under the inexorable hands of the doctor. In
the course of the same evening he again called, but
I was asleep. When I awoke I found his Lordship's
valet sitting by my bedside. * He had his master's
orders,' he said, ' to remain with me while I was
unwell, and was instructed to say, that whatever his
Lordship had, or could procure, was at my service,
and that he would come to me and sit with me, or
do whatever I liked, if I would only let him know in
\vhat way he could be useful.'
K 2

132 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

" Accordingly, on the next day, 1 sent for some
book, which was brought, with a list of his library.
I forget what it was which prevented my seeing
Lord Byron on this day, though he called more than
once ; and on the next, I was too ill with fever to
talk to any one.

" The moment I could get out, I took a gondola
and went to pay my respects, and to thank his Lord-
ship for his attentions. It was then nearly three
o'clock, but he was not yet up ; and when I went
again on the following day at five, I had the morti-
fication to learn that he had gone, at the same hour,
to call upon me, so that we had crossed each other
on the canal ; and, to my deep and lasting regret, I
was obliged to leave Venice without seeing him."

LETTER 322. TO MR. MOORE.

" Venice, September 19. 1818.

" An English newspaper here would be a prodigy,
and an opposition one a monster ; and except some
ex tracts from, extracts in the vile, garbled Paris ga-
zettes, nothing cf the kind reaches the Veneto-Lom-
bard public, who are, perhaps, the most oppressed in
Europe. My correspondences with England are
mostly on business, and chiefly with my * * *, who
has no very exalted notion, or extensive conception,
of an author's attributes ; for he once took up an
Edinburgh Review, and, looking at it a minute, said
to me, ' So, I see you have got into the magazine/
— which is the only sentence I ever heard him utter
upon literary matters, or the men thereof.

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 133

" My first news of your Irish Apotheosis has, con-
sequently, been from yourself. But, as it will not be
forgotten in a hurry, either by your friends or your
enemies, I hope to have it more in detail from some
of the former, and, in the mean time, I wish you joy
with all my heart. Such a moment must have been
a good deal better than Westminster-abbey, — be-
sides being an assurance of that one day (many years
hence, I trust,) into the bargain.

" I am sorry to perceive, however, by the close of
your letter, that even you have not escaped the
* surgit amari,' &c. and that your damned deputy
has been gathering such « dew from the still vext
Bermoothes' — or rather vexatious. Pray, give me
some items of the affair, as you say it is a serious
one ; and, if it grows more so, you should make a
trip over here for a few months, to see how things
turn out. I suppose you are a violent admirer of
England by your staying so long in it. For my own
part, I have passed, between the age of one-and-
twenty and thirty, half the intervenient years out of
it without regretting any thing, except that I ever
returned to it at all, and the gloomy prospect before
me of business and parentage obliging me, one day,
to return to it again, — at least, for the transaction
of affairs, the signing of papers, and inspecting of
children.

" I have here my natural daughter, by name Al^
legra, — a pretty little girl enough, and reckoned
Tike "papa.* Her mamma is English, — but it is a

* This little child had been sent to him by its mother about
four or five months before, under the care of a Swiss nurse, a
K 3

134 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

long story, and — there's an end. She is about
twenty months old.

" I have finished the first Canto (a long one, of
about 180 octaves) of a poem in the style and man-
ner of « Beppo,' encouraged by the good success of
the same. It is called ' Don Juan,' and is meant to
be a little quietly facetious upon every thing. But
I doubt whether it is not — at least, as far as it has
yet gone — too free for these very modest days.
However, I shall try the experiment, anonymously,
and if it don't take, it will be discontinued. It is
dedicated to S * * in good, simple, savage verse,
upon the * * * *'s politics, and the way he got them.
But the bore of copying it out is intolerable ; and if

young girl not above nineteen or twenty years of age, and in
every respect unfit to have the charge of such an infant, without
the superintendence of some more experienced person. " The
child, accordingly," says my informant, " was but ill taken
care of ; — not that any blame could attach to Lord Byron,
for he always expressed himself most anxious for her welfare,
but because the nurse wanted the necessary experience. The
poor girl was equally to be pitied ; for, as Lord Byron's house-
hold consisted of English and Italian men servants, with
whom she could hold no converse, and as there was no other
female to consult with and assist her in her charge, nothing
could be more forlorn than her situation proved to be."

Soon after the date of the above letter, Mrs. Hoppner, the
lady of the Consul General, who had, from the first, in com-
passion both to father and child, invited the little Allegra oc-
casionally to her house, very kindly proposed to Lord Byron
to take charge of her altogether, and an arrangement was
accordingly concluded upon for that purpose.

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. J 35

I had an amanuensis he would be of no use, as my
writing is so difficult to decipher.

" My poem's Epic, and is meant to be

Divided in twelve books, each book containing

With love and war, a heavy gale at sea —

A list of ships, and captains, and kings reigning —

New characters, £c. &c.

The above are two stanzas, which I send you as a
brick of my Babel, and by which you can judge of
the texture of the structure.

" In writing the Life of Sheridan, never mind the
angry lies of the humbug Whigs. Recollect that he
was an Irishman and a clever fellow, and that we
have had some very pleasant days with him. Don't
forget that he was at school at Harrow, where, in
my time, we used to show his name — R. B. Sheri-
dan, 1765, — as an honour to the walls. Remem-
ber * *. Depend upon it that there were
worse folks going, of that gang, than ever Sheridan
was.

" What did Parr mean by * haughtiness and cold-
ness ? ' I listened to him with admiring ignorance,
and respectful silence. What more could a talker
for fame have ? — they don't like to be answered. It
was at Payne Knight's I met him, where he gave
me more Greek than I could carry away. But I
certainly meant to (and did) treat him with the most
respectful deference.

" I wish you a good night, with a Venetian bene-
diction, ' Benedetto te, e la terra che ti fara ! ' —
* May you be blessed, and the earth which you will
K 4

136 NOTICES OF THE 1818.

make ! ' — is it not pretty ? You would think it still
prettier if you had heard it, as I did two hours ago,
from the lips of a Venetian girl, with large black
eyes, a face like Faustina's, and the figure of a Juno
— tall and energetic as a Pythoness, with eyes flash-
ing, and her dark hair streaming in the moonlight —
one of those women who may be made any thing.
I am sure if I put a poniard into the hand of this
one, she would plunge it where I told her, — and
into me, if I offended her. I like this kind of animal,
and am sure that I should have preferred Medea to
any woman that ever breathed. You may, perhaps,
wonder that I don't in that case. I could have for-
given the dagger or the bowl, any thing, but the
deliberate desolation piled upon me, when I stood
alone upon my hearth, with my household gods shi-
vered around me. f * * Do you suppose I
have forgotten or forgiven it? It has compara-
tively swallowed up in me every other feeling, and
I am only a spectator upon earth, till a tenfold op-
portunity offers. It may come yet. There are
others more to be blamed than * * * *, and it is on
these that my eyes are fixed unceasingly."

LETTER 323. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, September 24. 1818.

" In the one hundredth and thirty-second stanza
of Canto fourth, the stanza runs in the manuscript —

f " I had one only fount of quiet left,

And that they poison'd ! My pure household gods
Were shivered on my hearth." MARINO FALIERO.

1818. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 13?

" And thou, who never yet of human wrong
Left the unbalanced scale, great Nemesis !

and not l lost,' which is nonsense, as what losing a
scale means, I know not ; but leaving an unbalanced
scale, or a scale unbalanced, is intelligible.* Correct
this, I pray, — not for the public, or the poetry, but
I do not choose to have blunders made in addressing
any of the deities so seriously as this is addressed.

" Yours, &c.
" P. S. In the translation from the Spanish, alter

" In increasing squadrons flew,

to —

" To a mighty squadron grew.

" What does ' thy waters wasted them ' mean (in
the Canto) ? That is not me. f Consult the MS.
always.

" I have written the first Canto (180 octave stan-
zas) of a poem in the style of Beppo, and have
Mazeppa to finish besides.

" In referring to the mistake in stanza 132. 1 take
the opportunity to desire that in future, in all parts
of my writings referring to religion, you will be more
careful, and not forget that it is possible that in ad-
dressing the Deity a blunder may become a blas-
phemy ; and I do not choose to suffer such infamous
perversions of my words or of my intentions.

" I saw the Canto by accident."

* This correction, I observe, has never been made, — the
passage still remaining, unmeaningly,

" Lost the unbalanced scale."
•f* This passage also remains uncorrected.

138 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

LETTER 324. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, January 20. 1819.

" The opinions which I have asked of Mr. H. and
others were with regard to the poetical merit, and
not as to what they may think due to the cant 01
the day, which still reads the Bath Guide, Little's
Poems, Prior, and Chaucer, to say nothing of Field-
ing and Smollet. If published, publish entire, with
the above-mentioned exceptions ; or you may publish
anonymously, or not at all. In the latter event, print
50 on my account, for private distribution.

" Yours, &c.

" I have written to Messrs. K. and H. to desire
that they will not erase more than I have stated.

" The second Canto of Don Juan is finished in
206 stanzas."

LETTER 325. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, January 25. 1819.

" You will do me the favour to print privately
(for private distribution) fifty copies of < Don Juan.'
The list of the men to whom I wish it to be pre-
sented, I will send hereafter. The other two poems
had best be added to the collective edition : I do not
approve of their being published separately. Print
Don Juan entire, omitting, of course, the lines on
Castlereagh, as I am not on the spot to meet him.
I have a second Canto ready, which will be sent
by and by. By this post, I have written to Mr.
Hobhouse, addressed to your care.

" Yours, &c.

1819. MFE OF LORD BYRON. 139

" P. S. I have acquiesced in the request and
representation ; and having done so, it is idle to
detail my arguments in favour of my own self-love
and 'Poeshie;' but I protest. If the poem has
poetry, it would stand ; if not, fall ; the rest is
* leather and prunello,' and has never yet affected
any human production * pro or eon.' Dulness is the
only annihilator in such cases. As to the cant of
the day, I despise it, as I have ever done all its other
finical fashions, which become you as paint became
the ancient Britons. If you admit this prudery, you
must omit half Ariosto, La Fontaine, Shakspeare,
Beaumont, Fletcher, Massinger, Ford, all the Charles
Second writers ; in short, something of most who
have written before Pope and are worth reading, and
much of Pope himself. Read him — most of you
dont — but do — and I will forgive you; though
the inevitable consequence would be that you would
burn all I have ever written, and all your other
wretched Claudians of the day (except Scott and
Crabbe) into the bargain. I wrong Claudian, who
was a poet, by naming him with such fellows ; but
he was the * ultimus Romanorum,' the tail of the
comet, and these persons are the tail of an old gown
cut into a waistcoat for Jackey ; but being both tails,
I have compared the one with the other, though
very unlike, like all similes. I write in a passion
and a sirocco, and I was up till six this morning at
the Carnival : but I protest, as I did in my former
letter."

14-0 NOTICES OF THE 18] 9.

LETTER 326. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Venice, February 1. 1819.

" After one of the concluding stanzas of the first
Canto of « Don Juan,' which ends with (I forget the
number) —

« To have

when the original is dust,

A book, a d — d bad picture, and worse bust,

insert the following stanza : —

" What are the hopes of man, &c.

" I have written to you several letters, some with
additions, and some upon the subject of the poem
itself, which my cursed puritanical committee have
protested against publishing. But we will circumvent
them on that point. I have not yet begun to copy
out the second Canto, which is finished, from na-
tural laziness, and the discouragement of the milk
and water they have thrown upon the first. I say
all this to them as to you, that is, for you to say to
them, for I will have nothing underhand. If they
had told me the poetry was bad, I would have ac-
quiesced ; but they say the contrary, and then talk
to me about morality — the first time I ever heard
the word from any body who was not a rascal that
used it for a purpose. I maintain that it is the most
moral of poems ; but if people won't discover the
moral, that is their fault, not mine. I have already
written to beg that in any case you will print fifty
for private distribution. I will send you the list of
persons to whom it is to be sent afterwards.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 141

« Within this last fortnight I have been rather
indisposed with a rebellion of stomach, which would
retain nothing, (liver, I suppose,) and an inability,
or fantasy, not to be able to eat of any thing with
relish but a kind of Adriatic fish called < scampi,'
which happens to be the most indigestible of ma-
rine viands. However, within these last two days,
I am better, and very truly yours."

LETTER 327. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Venice, April 6. 1819.

" The second Canto of Don Juan was sent, on
Saturday last, by post, in four packets, two of four,
and two of three sheets each, containing in all two
hundred and seventeen stanzas, octave measure.
But I will permit no curtailments, except those
mentioned about Castlereagh and * * * *. You
sha'n't make canticles of my cantos. The poem will
please, if it is lively ; if it is stupid, it will fail : but
I will have none of your damned cutting and slash-
ing. If you please, you may publish anonymously;
it will perhaps be better ; but I will battle my way
against them all, like a porcupine.

" So you and Mr. Foscolo, &c. want me to under-
take what you call a < great work ? ' an Epic Poem,
I suppose, or some such pyramid. I'll try no
such thing ; I hate tasks. And then * seven or eight
years ! ' God send us all well this day three months,
let alone years. If one's years can't be better em-
ployed than in sweating poesy, a man had better
be a ditcher. And works, too ! — is Childe Harold

142 - NOTICES OF THE 1819.,

nothing ? You have so many * divine poems, is it
nothing to have written a human one ? without any
of your worn-out machinery. Why, man, I could
have spun the thoughts of the four Cantos of that
poem into twenty, had I wanted to book-make, and
its passion into as many modern tragedies. Since
you want length, you shall have enough of Juan, for
I'll make fifty Cantos.

" And Foscolo, too ! Why does he not do some-
thing more than the Letters of Ortis, and a tragedy,
and pamphlets ? He has good fifteen years more at
his command than I have : what has he done all that
time ? — proved his genius, doubtless, but not fixed
its fame, nor done his utmost.

" Besides, I mean to write my best work in Italian,
and it will take me nine years more thoroughly to
master the language ; and then if my fancy exist,
and I exist too, I will try what I can do really. As
to the estimation of the English which you talk of,
let them calculate what it is worth, before they insult
me with their insolent condescension.

" I have not written for their pleasure. If they
are pleased, it is that they chose to be so ; I have
never flattered their opinions, nor their pride ; nor
will I. Neither will I make ' Ladies' books' * al
dilettar le femine e la plebe.' I have written from
the fulness of my mind, from passion, from im-
pulse, from many motives, but not for their * sweet
voices.'

" I know the precise worth of popular applause,
for few scribblers have had more of it; and if I
chose to swerve into their paths, I could retain it,

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. I4?3

or resume it. But I neither love ye, nor fear ye ;
and though I buy with ye and sell with ye, I will
neither eat with ye, drink with ye, nor pray with
ye. They made me, without any search, a species
of popular idol ; they, without reason or judgment,
beyond the caprice of their good pleasure, threw
down the image from its pedestal ; it was not broken
with the fall, and they would, it seems, again replace
it, — but they shall not.

" You ask about my health : about the beginning
of the year I was in a state of great exhaustion,
attended by such debility of stomach that nothing
remained upon it ; and I was obliged to reform my
i way of life,' which was conducting me from the
* yellow leaf to the ground, with all deliberate
speed. I am better in health and morals, and very
much yours, &c.

" P. S. I have read Hodgson's * Friends/ He
is right in defending Pope against the bastard peli-
cans of the poetical winter day, who add insult to
their parricide, by sucking the blood of the parent
of English real poetry, — poetry without fault,—
and then spurning the bosom which fed them."

It was about the time when the foregoing letter
was written, and when, as we perceive, like the first
return of reason after intoxication, a full conscious-
ness of some of the evils of his late libertine course
of life had broken upon him, that an attachment
differing altogether, both in duration and devotion,
from any of those that, since the dream of his
boyhood, had inspired him, gained an influence

144 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

over his mind which lasted through his few re-
maining years ; and, undeniably wrong and immoral
(even allowing for the Italian estimate of such
frailties) as was the nature of the connection to
which this attachment led, we can hardly perhaps,
. — taking into account the far worse wrong from
which it rescued and preserved him, — consider it
otherwise than as an event fortunate both for his
reputation and happiness.

The fair object of this last, and (with one signal
exception) only real love of his whole life, was a
young Romagnese lady, the daughter of Count
Gamba, of Ravenna, and married, but a short time
before Lord Byron first met with her, to an old and
wealthy widower, of the same city, Count Guiccioli.
Her husband had in early life been the friend of
Alfieri, and had distinguished himself by his zeal in
promoting the establishment of a National Theatre,
in which the talents of Alfieri and his own wealth
were to be combined. Notwithstanding his age,
and a character, as it appears, by no means reput-
able, his great opulence rendered him an object of
ambition among the mothers of Ravenna, who,
according to the too frequent maternal practice,
were seen vying with each other in attracting so
rich a purchaser for their daughters, and the young
Teresa Gamba, not yet sixteen, and just emanci-
pated from a convent, was the selected victim.

The first time Lord Byron had ever seen this lady
was in the autumn of 1818, when she made her ap-
pearance, three days after her marriage, at the house of
the Countess Albrizzi, in all the gaiety of bridal array,

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 145

and the first delight of exchanging a convent for the
world. At this time, however, no acquaintance en-
sued between them ; — it was not till the spring of
the present year that, at an evening party of
Madame Benzoni's, they were introduced to each
other. The love that sprung out of this meeting
was instantaneous and mutual, though with the
usual disproportion of sacrifice between the parties ;
such an event being, to the man, but one of the
many scenes of life, while, with woman, it generally
constitutes the whole drama. The young Italian
found herself suddenly inspired with a passion of
which, till that moment, her mind could not have
formed the least idea ; — she had thought of love
but as an amusement, and now became its slave.
If at the outset, too, less slow to be won than an
Englishwoman, no sooner did she begin to under-
stand the full despotism of the passion than her
heart shrunk from it as something terrible, and she
would have escaped, but that the chain was already
around her.

No words, however, can describe so simply and
feelingly as her own, the strong impression which
their first meeting left upon her mind : —

" I became acquainted (says Madame Guiccioli)
with Lord Byron in the April of 1819 : — he was
introduced to me at Venice, by the Countess Ben-
zoni, at one of that lady's parties. This introduction,
which had so much influence over the lives of us
both, took place contrary to our wishes, and had
been permitted by us only from courtesy. For
myself, more fatigued than usual that evening on

VOL. IV. L

146 NOTICES OF THE 1819-

account of the late hours they keep at Venice, I
went with great repugnance to this party, and purely
in obedience to Count Guiccioli. Lord Byron, too,
who was averse to forming new acquaintances, —
alleging that he had entirely renounced all attach-
ments, and was unwilling any more to expose himself
to their consequences, — on being requested by the
countess Benzoni to allow himself to be presented to
me, refused, and, at last, only assented from a desire
to oblige her.

" His noble and exquisitely beautiful countenance,
the tone of his voice, his manners, the thousand
enchantments that surrounded him, rendered him
so different and so superior a being to any whom I
had hitherto seen, that it was impossible he should
not have left the most profound impression upon
me. From that evening, during the whole of my
subsequent stay at Venice, we met every day." *

* " Nell* Aprile del 1819, io feci la conoscenza di Lord
Byron ; e mi fu presentato a Venezia dalla Contessa Benzoni
nella di lei societa. Questa presentazione che ebbe tante con-
sequenze per tutti e due fu fatta contro la volonta d'entrambi,
e solo per condiscendenza 1'abbiamo permessa. Io stanca piu
che mai quella sera par le ore tarde che si costuma fare in Ve-
nezia andai con molta ripugnanza e solo per ubbidire al Conte
Guiccioli in quella societa. Lord Byron che scansava di fare
nuove conoscenze, dicendo sempre che aveva interamente rinun-
ciato alle passioni e che non voleva esporsi piu alle loro conse-
quenze, quando la Contessa Benzoni la preg6 di volersi far
presentare a me egli recuso, e solo per la compiacenza glielo
permise. La nobile e bellissima sua fisonomia, il suono della
sua voce, le sue maniere, i mille incanti che Io circondavano Io
rendevano un essere cosi differente, cos} superiore a tutti quelli

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 147

LETTER 328. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, May 15. 1819.

" I have got your extract, and the * Vampire.'
I need not say it is not mine. There is a rule to go
by : you are my publisher (till we quarrel), and
what is not published by you is not written by me.

" Next week I set out for Romagna — at least, in
all probability. You had better go on with the
publications, without waiting to hear farther, for I
have other things in my head. * Mazeppa ' and
the ' Ode ' separate? — what think you? Juan
anonymous, without the Dedication ; for I won't be
shabby, and attack Southey under cloud of night.

" Yours," &c.

In another letter on the subject of the Vampire,
I find the following interesting particulars : —

TO MR.

" The story of Shelley's agitation is true.* I
can't tell what seized him, for he don't want courage.

che io aveva sino allora veduti che non potei a meno di non
provarne la piu profonda impressione. Da quella sera in poi
in tutti i giorni che mi fermai in Venezia ei siamo sempre ve-
duti.'— MS.

* This story, as given in the Preface to the " Vampire," is
as follows : —

" It appears that one evening Lord B., Mr. P. B. Shelley,
two ladies, and the gentleman before alluded to, after having
perused a German work called Phantasmagoria, began relating
ghost stories, when his Lordship having recited the beginning
of Christabel, then unpublished, the whole took so strong a
L 2

148 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

He was once with me in a gale of wind, in a small
boat, right under the rocks between Meillerie and
St. Gingo. We were five in the boat — a servant,
two boatmen, and ourselves. The sail was misman-
aged, and the boat was filling fast. He can't swim.
I stripped off my coat, made him strip off his, and
take hold of an oar, telling him that I thought (being
myself an expert swimmer) I could save him, if he
would not struggle when I took hold of him — un-
less we got smashed against the rocks, which were
high and sharp, with an awkward surf on them at that
minute. We were then about a hundred yards from
shore, and the boat in peril. He answered me with
the greatest coolness, * that he had no notion of
being saved, and that I would have enough to do to
save myself, and begged not to trouble me.' Luckily,
the boat righted, and, bailing, we got round a point
into St. Gingo, where the inhabitants came down
and embraced the boatmen on their escape, the
wind having been high enough to tear up some
huge trees from the Alps above us, as we saw next
day.

hold of Mr. Shelley's mind, that he suddenly started up, and
ran out of the room. The physician and Lord Byron followed,
and discovered him leaning against a mantel-piece, with cold
drops of perspiration trickling down his face. After having
given him something to refresh him, upon enquiring into the
cause of his alarm, they found that his wild imagination having
pictured to him the bosom of one of the ladies with eyes (which
was reported of a lady in the neighbourhood where he lived),
he was obliged to leave the room in order to destroy the im-
pression."

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 149

" And yet the same Shelley, who was as cool as it
was possible to be in such circumstances, (of which
I am no judge myself, as the chance of swimming
naturally gives self-possession when near shore,)
certainly had the fit of phantasy which Polidori
describes, though not exactly as he describes it.

" The story of the agreement to write the ghost-
books is true ; but the ladies are not sisters. Mary
Godwin (now Mrs. Shelley) wrote Frankenstein,
which you have reviewed, thinking it Shelley's.
Methinks it is a wonderful book for a girl of nine-
teen, — not nineteen, indeed, at that time. J enclose
you the beginning of mine, by which you will see
how far it resembles Mr. Colburn's publication. If
you choose to publish it, you may, stating why, and
with such explanatory proem as you please. I never
went on with it, as you will perceive by the date.
I began it in an old account-book of Miss Mil-
banke's, which I kept because it contains the word
' Household,' written by her twice on the inside
blank page of the covers, being the only two scraps
I have in the world in her writing, except her name
to the Deed of Separation. Her letters I sent back
except those of the quarrelling correspondence, and
those, being documents, are placed in the hands of
a third person, with copies of several of my own ;
so that I have no kind of memorial whatever of
her, but these two words, — and her actions. I have
torn the leaves containing the part of the Tale out
of the book, and enclose them with this sheet.

" What do you mean ? First you seem hurt by
my letter, and then, in your next, you talk of its
L 3

150 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

< power,' and so forth. < This is a d — d blind story,
Jack ; but never mind, go on.' You may be sure I
said nothing on purpose to plague you ; but if you
will put me ' in a frenzy, I will never call you Jack
again.' I remember nothing of the epistle at pre-
sent.

" What do you mean by Polidori's Diary ? Why,
I defy him to say any thing about me, but he is
welcome. I have nothing to reproach me with on
his score, and I am much mistaken if that is not
his own opinion. But why publish the names of
the two girls ? and in such a manner ? — what a
blundering piece of exculpation ! He asked Pictet,
&c. to dinner, and of course was left to entertain
them. I went into society solely to present Mm (as
I told him), that he might return into good company
if he chose ; it was the best thing for his youth and
circumstances : for myself, I had done with society,
and, having presented him, withdrew to my own
* way of life.' It is true that I returned without
entering Lady Dalrymple Hamilton's, because I saw
it full. It is true that Mrs. Hervey (she writes
novels) fainted at my entrance into Coppet, and
then came back again. On her fainting, the Duchess
de Broglie exclaimed, * This is too much — at sixty-
Jive years of age ! ' — I never gave * the English ' an
opportunity of avoiding me ; but I trust that, if ever
I do, they will seize it. With regard to Mazeppa
and the Ode, you may join or separate them, as you
please, from the two Cantos.

"Don't suppose I want to put you out of humour.
I have a great respect for your good and gentlemanly

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 151

qualities, and return your personal friendship to-
wards me ; and although I think you a little spoilt
by * villanous company,' — wits, persons of honour
about town, authors, and fashionables, together with
your ' I am just going to call at Carlton House, are
you walking that way ? ' — I say, notwithstanding
* pictures, taste, Shakspeare, and the musical glasses,'
you deserve and possess the esteem of those whose
esteem is worth having, and of none more (however
useless it may be) than yours very truly, &c.

" P. S. Make my respects to Mr. Gilford. I am
perfectly aware that ' Don Juan' must set us all by
the ears, but that is my concern, and my beginning.
There will be the * Edinburgh,' and all, too, against
it, so that, like * Rob Roy,' I shall have my hands
full."

LETTER 329. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Venice, May 25. 1819.

" I have received no proofs by the last post, and
shall probably have quitted Venice before the arrival
of the next. There wanted a few stanzas to the
termination of Canto first in the last proof; the
next will, I presume, contain them, and the whole
or a portion of Canto second ; but it will be idle to
wait for further answers from me, as I have directed
that my letters wait for my return (perhaps in a
month, and probably so) ; therefore do not wait for
further advice from me. You may as well talk to
the wind, and better — for it will at least convey
your accents a little further than they would other-
L 4

152 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

wise have gone ; whereas /shall neither echo nor ac-
quiesce in your ' exquisite reasons.' You may omit
the note of reference to Hobhouse's travels, in Canto
second, and you will put as motto to the whole —

* Difficile est proprie communia dicere.' — HORACE.

" A few days ago I sent you all I know of
Polidori's Vampire. He may do, say, or write,
what he pleases, but I wish he would not attribute
to me his own compositions. If he has any thing of
mine in his possession, the MS. will put it beyond
controversy ; but I scarcely think that any one who
knows me would believe the thing in the Maga-
zine to be mine, even if they saw it in my own
hieroglyphics.

" I write to you in the agonies of a sirocco^ which
annihilates me ; and I have been fool enough to do
four things since dinner, which are as well omitted
in very hot weather: Istly, * * * *; 2dly, to
play at billiards from 10 to 12, under the influence
of lighted lamps, that doubled the heat ; 3dly, to go
afterwards into a red-hot conversazione of the
Countess Benzoni's ; and, 4thly, to begin this letter
at three in the morning : but being begun, it must
be finished.

" Ever very truly and affectionately yours,

«B.

" P. S. I petition for tooth-brushes, powder, mag-
nesia, Macassar oil (or Russia), the sashes, and Sir
Nl. Wraxall's Memoirs of his own Times. I want,
besides, a bull-dog, a terrier, and two Newfoundland
dogs ; and I want (is it Buck's ?) a life of Richard 2d,

1819.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 153

advertised by Longman long, long, long ago ; I asked
for it at least three years since. See Longman's
advertisements."

About the middle of April, Madame Guiccioli had
been obliged to quit Venice with her husband. Hav-
ing several houses on the road from Venice to Ra-
venna, it was his habit to stop at these mansions, one
after the other, in his journeys between the two
cities; and from all these places the enamoured
young Countess now wrote to Lord Byron, express-
ing, in the most passionate and pathetic terms, her
despair at leaving him. So utterly, indeed, did this
feeling overpower her, that three times, in the course
of her first day's journey, she was seized with fainting
fits. In one of her letters, which I saw when at
Venice, dated, if I recollect right, from " Ca Zen,
Cavanelle di Po," she tells him that the solitude of
this place, which she had before found irksome, was,
now that one sole idea occupied her mind, become
dear and welcome to her, and promises that, as soon
as she arrives at Ravenna, " she will, according to
his wish, avoid all general society, and devote her-
self to reading, music, domestic occupations, riding
on horseback, — every thing, in short, that she knew
he would most like." What a change for a young
and simple girl, who, but a few weeks before, had
thought only of society and the world, but who now
saw no other happiness but in the hope of making
herself worthy, by seclusion and self-instruction, of
the illustrious object of her devotion !

On leaving this place, she was attacked with a

154" NOTICES OF THE 1819

dangerous illness on the road, and arrived half dead
at Ravenna ; nor was it found possible to revive or
comfort her till an assurance was received from Lord
Byron, expressed with all the fervour of real passion,
that, in the course of the ensuing month, he would
pay her a visit. Symptoms of consumption, brought
on by her state of mind, had already shown them-
selves ; and, in addition to the pain which this se-
paration had caused her, she was also suffering much
grief from the loss of her mother, who, at this time,
died in giving birth to her fourteenth child. Towards
the latter end of May she wrote to acquaint Lord
Byron that, having prepared all her relatives and
friends to expect him, he might now, she thought,
venture to make his appearance at Ravenna. Though,
on the lady's account, hesitating as to the prudence
of such a step, he, in obedience to her wishes, on
the 2d of June, set out from La Mira (at which place
he had again taken a villa for the summer), and
proceeded towards Romagna.

From Padua he addressed a letter to Mr. Hoppner,
chiefly occupied with matters of household concern
which that gentleman had undertaken to manage for
him at Venice, but, on the immediate object of his
journey, expressing himself in a tone so light and
jesting, as it would be difficult for those not versed
in his character to conceive that he could ever bring
himself, while under the influence of a passion so
sincere, to assume. But such is ever the wanton-
ness of the mocking spirit, from which nothing, —
not even love, — remains sacred ; and which, at last,
for want of other food, turns upon himself. The

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 155

same horror, too, of hypocrisy that led Lord Byron
to exaggerate his own errors, led him also to dis-
guise, under a seemingly heartless ridicule, all those
natural and kindly qualities by which they were
redeemed.

This letter from Padua concludes thus : —

" A journey in an Italian June is a conscription ;
and if 1 was not the most constant of men, I should
now be swimming from the Lido, instead of smoking
in the dust of Padua. Should there be letters from
England, let them wait my return. And do look at
my house and (not lands, but) waters, and scold ; —
and deal out the monies to Edgecombe* with an air
of reluctance and a shake of the head — and put
queer questions to him — and turn up your nose
when he answers.

" Make my respect to the Consules — and to the
Chevalier — and to Scotin — and to all the counts
and countesses of our acquaintance.
" And believe me ever

" Your disconsolate and affectionate," &c.

As a contrast to the strange levity of this letter,
as well as in justice to the real earnestness of the
passion, however censurable in all other respects,
that now engrossed him, I shall here transcribe some
stanzas which he wrote in the course of this journey
to Romagna, and which, though already published, are
not comprised in the regular collection of his works.

* A clerk of the English Consulate, whom he at this time
employed to control his accounts

156 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

" River*, that rollcst by the ancient walls,

Where dwells the lady of my love, when she
Walks by thy brink, and there perchance recalls
A faint and fleeting memory of me ;

" What if thy deep and ample stream should be
A mirror of my heart, where she may read
The thousand thoughts I now betray to thee,
Wild as thy wave, and headlong as thy speed !

" What do I say — a mirror of my heart ?

Are not thy waters sweeping, dark, and strong ?
Such as my feelings were and are, thou art ;
And such as thou art were my passions long.

" Time may have somewhat tamed them, — not for ever;

Thou overflow'st thy banks, and not for aye
Thy bosom overboils, congenial river !

Thy floods subside, and mine have sunk away,

" But left long wrecks behind, and now again,

Borne in our old unchanged career, we move ;
Thou tendest wildly onwards to the main,
And I — to loving one I should not love.

" The current I behold will sweep beneath

Her native walls and murmur at her feet ;
Her eyes will look on thee, when she shall breathe
The twilight air, unharm'd by summer's heat.

" She will look on thee, — I have look'd on thee,

Full of that thought ; and, from that moment, ne'er
Thy waters could I dream of, name, or see,
Without the inseparable sigh for her !

* The Po.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 157

" Her bright eyes will be imaged in thy stream, —
Yes ! they will meet the wave I gaze on now :
Mine cannot witness, even in a dream,
That happy wave repass me in its flow !

" The wave that bears my tears returns no more :

Will she return by whom that wave shall sweep? —
Both tread thy banks, both wander on thy shore,
I by thy source, she by the dark-blue deep.

"But that which keepeth us apart is not

Distance, nor depth of wave, nor space of earth.
But the distraction of a various lot,
As various as the climates of our birth.

" A stranger loves the lady of the land,

Born far beyond the mountains, but his blood
Is all meridian, as if never fann'd

By the black wind that chills the polar flood.

" My blood is all meridian ; were it not,

I had not left my clime, nor should I be,
In spite of tortures, ne'er to be forgot,
A slave again of love, — at least of thee.

" 'Tis vain to struggle — let me perish young —

Live as I lived, and love as I have loved ;
To dust if I return, from dust I sprung,

And then, at least, my heart can ne'er be moved."

On arriving at Bologna and receiving no further
intelligence from the Contessa, he began to be of
opinion, as we shall perceive in the annexed interest-
ing letters, that he should act most prudently, for all
parties, by returning to Venice.

158 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

LETTER 330. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" Bologna, June 6. 1819.

" I am at length joined to Bologna, where I am
settled like a sausage, and shall be broiled like one,
if this weather continues. Will you thank Mengaldo
on my part for the Ferrara acquaintance, which was
a very agreeable one. I stayed two days at Ferrara,
and was much pleased with the Count Mosti, and
the little the shortness of the time permitted me to
see of his family. I went to his conversazione,
which is very far superior to any thing of the kind
at Venice — the women almost all young — several
pretty — and the men courteous and cleanly. The
lady of the mansion, who is young, lately married,
and with child, appeared very pretty by candlelight
(I did not see her by day), pleasing in her manners,
and very lady-like, or thorough-bred, as we call it in
England, — a kind of thing which reminds one of a
racer, an antelope, or an Italian greyhound. She
seems very fond of her husband, who is amiable and
accomplished ; he has been in England two or three
times, and is young. The sister, a Countess some-
body— I forget what — (they are both Maffei by
birth, and Veronese of course) — is a lady of more
display ; she sings and plays divinely ; but I thought
she was a d— d long time about it. Her likeness
to Madame Flahaut (Miss Mercer that was) is
something quite extraordinary.

" I had but a bird's eye view of these people, and
shall not probably see them again ; but I am very
much obliged to Mengaldo for letting me see them

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 159

at all. Whenever I meet with any thing agreeable
in this world, it surprises me so much, and pleases
me so much (when my passions are not interested
one way or the other), that I go on wondering for a
week to come. I feel, too, in great admiration of
the Cardinal Legate's red stockings.

" I found, too, such a pretty epitaph in the
Certosa cemetery, or rather two : one was

' Martini Luigi
Implora pace ;'

the other,

* Lucrezia Picini

Implora eterna quiete.'

That was all ; but it appears to me that these two
and three words comprise and compress all that can
be said on the subject, — and then, in Italian, they
are absolute music. They contain doubt, hope, and
humility; nothing can be more pathetic than the
* implora' and the modesty of the request; — they
have had enough of life — they want nothing but rest
— they implore it, and ' eterna quiete.' It is like a
Greek inscription in some good old heathen ' City
of the Dead.' Pray, if I am shovelled into the Lido
churchyard in your time, let me have the ' implora
pace,' and nothing else, for my epitaph. I never
met with any, ancient or modern, that pleased me a
tenth part so much.

" In about a day or two after you receive this
letter, I will thank you to desire Edgecombe to
prepare for my return. I shall go back to Venice
before I village on the Brenta. I shall stay but a

160 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

few days in Bologna. I am just going out to see sights,
but shall not present my introductory letters for a
day or two, till I have run over again the place and
pictures ; nor perhaps at all, if I find that I have
books and sights enough to do without the inha-
bitants. After that, I shall return to Venice, where
you may expect me about the eleventh, or perhaps
sooner. Pray make my thanks acceptable to Men-
galdo: my respects to the Consuless, and to Mr.
Scott. I hope my daughter is well.

" Ever yours, and truly.

« P. S. I went over the Ariosto MS. &c. &c.
again at Ferrara, with the castle, and cell, and
house, &c. &c.

" One of the Ferrarese asked me if I knew ' Lord
Byron,' an acquaintance of his, now at Naples. I
told him * No!' which was true both ways; for I
knew not the impostor, and in the other, no one
knows himself. He stared when told that I was
' the real Simon Pure.' Another asked me if I had
not translated « Tasso.' You see what fame is !
how accurate! how boundless! I don't know how
others feel, but I am always the lighter and the
better looked on when I have got rid of mine ; it
sits on me like armour on the Lord Mayor's cham-
pion ; and I got rid of all the husk of literature, and
the attendant babble, by answering, that I had not
translated Tasso, but a namesake had ; and by the
blessing of Heaven, I looked so little like a poet, that
every body believed me."

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 161

LETTER 331. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Bologna, June 7. 1819.

" Tell Mr. Hobhouse that I wrote to him a few
days ago from Ferrara. It will therefore be idle in
him or you to wait for any further answers or returns
of proofs from Venice, as I have directed that no
English letters be sent after me. The publication
can be proceeded in without, and I am already sick
of your remarks, to which I think not the least
attention ought to be paid.

" Tell Mr. Hobhouse that, since I wrote to him,
I had availed myself of my Ferrara letters, and
found the society much younger and better there
than at Venice. I am very much pleased with the
little the shortness of my stay permitted me to see
of the Gonfaloniere Count Mosti, and his family and
friends in general.

" I have been picture-gazing this morning at the
famous Domenichino and Guido, both of which are
superlative. 1 afterwards went to the beautiful
cemetery of Bologna, beyond the walls, and found,
besides the superb burial-ground, an original of a
Custode, who reminded one of the grave-digger in
Hamlet. He has a collection of capuchins' skulls,
labelled on the forehead, and taking down one of
them, said, * This was Brother Desiderio Berro, who
died at forty — one of my best friends. I begged
his head of his brethren after his decease, and they
gave it me. I put it in lime, and then boiled it. Here
it is, teeth and all, in excellent preservation. He was
the merriest, cleverest fellow I ever knew. Wherever

VOL. IV. M

162 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

he went, be brought joy ; and whenever any one was
melancholy, the sight of him was enough to make
him cheerful again. He walked so actively, you
might have taken him for a dancer — he joked — he
laughed — oh ! he was such a Frate as I never saw
before, nor ever shall again ! '

" He told me that he had himself planted all the
cypresses in the cemetery ; that he had the greatest
attachment to them and to his dead people; that
since 1801 they had buried fifty-three thousand
persons. In showing some older monuments, there
was that of a Roman girl of twenty, with a bust by
Bernini. She was a princess Bartorini, dead two
centuries ago : he said that, on opening her grave,
they had found her hair complete, and { as yellow as
gold.' Some of the epitaphs at Ferrara pleased me
more than the more splendid monuments at Bologna;
for instance: —

" Martini Luigi
Jmplora pace ;

" Lucrezia Picini

Implora eterna quiete.

Can any thing be more full of pathos ? Those few
words say all that can be said or sought : the dead
had had enough of life ; all they wanted was rest,
and this they implore ! There is all the helplessness,
and humble hope, and deathlike prayer, that can
arise from the grave — < implora pace.'* I hope,

* Though Lord Byron, like most other persons, in writ-
ing to different friends, was sometimes led to repeat the same
circumstances and thoughts, there is, from the ever ready

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 163

whoever may survive me, and shall see me put in
the foreigners' burying-ground at the Lido, within
the fortress by the Adriatic, will see those two
words, and no more, put over me. I trust they
won't think of * pickling, and bringing me home to
Clod or Blunderbuss Hall.' I am sure my bones
would not rest in an English grave, or my clay mix
with the earth of that country. I believe the
thought would drive me mad on my deathbed,
could I suppose that any of my friends would be base
enough to convey my carcass back to your soil. I
would not even feed your worms, if I could help it.

" So, as Shakspeare says of Mowbray, the banished
Duke of Norfolk, who died at Venice (see Richard II.)
that he, after fighting

" ' Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens,
And toiled with works of war, retired himself
To Italy, and there, at Venice, gave
His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.'

" Before I left Venice, I had returned to you your
late, and Mr. Hobhouse's sheets of Juan. Don't wait
for further answers from me, but address yours to

fertility of his mind, much less of such repetition in his cor-
respondence than in that, perhaps, of any other multifarious
letter-writer ; and, in the instance before us, where the same
facts and reflections are, for the second time, introduced, it is
with such new touches, both of thought and expression, as
render them, even a second time, interesting ; — what is want-
ing in the novelty of the matter being made up by the neAv
aspect given to it.

M 2

164- NOTICES OF THE 1819.

Venice, as usual. I know nothing of my own move-
ments ; I may return there in a few days, or not for
some time. All this depends on circumstances. 1
left Mr. Hoppner very well. My daughter Allegra
was well too, and is growing pretty ; her hair is
growing darker, and her eyes are blue. Her tem-
per and her ways, Mr. Hoppner says, are like mine,
as well as her features : she will make, in that case,
a manageable young lady.

" I have never heard any thing of Ada, the little
Electra of Mycenae. But there will come a day of
reckoning, even if I should not live to see it.* What
a long letter I have scribbled ! Yours, &c.

" P. S. Here, as in Greece, they strew flowers on
the tombs. I saw a quantity of rose-leaves, and
entire roses, scattered over the graves at Ferrara.
It has the most pleasing effect you can imagine."

While he was thus lingering irresolute at Bo-

* There were, in the former edition, both here and in a
subsequent letter, some passages reflecting upon the late Sir
Samuel Romilly, which, in my anxiety to lay open the work-
ings of Lord Byron's mind upon a subject in which so much
of his happiness and character were involved, I had been in-
duced to retain, though aware of the erroneous impression
under which they were written ; — the evident morbidness of
the feeling that dictated the attack, and the high, stainless
reputation of the person assailed, being sufficient, I thought,
to neutralise any ill effects such reflections might otherwise
have produced. As I find it, however, to be the opinion of
all those whose opinions I most respect, that, even with these
antidotes, such an attack upon such a man ought not to be
left on record, I willingly expunge all trace of it from these
pages.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 165

logna, the Countess Guiccioli had been attacked
with an intermittent fever, the violence of which,
combining with the absence of a confidential person
to whom she had been in the habit of intrusting her
letters, prevented her from communicating with
him. At length, anxious to spare him the disap-
pointment of finding her so ill on his arrival, she
had begun a letter, requesting that he would remain
at Bologna till the visit to which she looked forward
should bring her there also ; and was in the act of
writing, when a friend came in to announce the
arrival of an English lord in Ravenna. She could
not doubt for an instant that it was her noble friend;
and he had, in fact, notwithstanding his declaration
to Mr. Hoppner that it was his intention to return
to Venice immediately, wholly altered this resolution
before the letter announcing it was despatched, —
the following words being written on the outside
cover : — " I am just setting off for Ravenna, June 8.
1819. — I changed my mind this morning, and de-
cided to go on."

The reader, however, shall have Madame Guic-
cioli's own account of these events, which, fortu-
nately for the interest of my narration, I am enabled
to communicate.

" On my departure from Venice, he had promised
to come and see me at Ravenna. Dante's tomb, the
classical pine wood*, the relics of antiquity which

* " Tal qual di ramo in ramo si raccoglie
Per la pineta in sul lito di Chiassi,
Quando Eolo Scirocco fuor discioglie."
DANTE, PURG. Cauto
M 3

166 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

are to be found in that place, afforded a sufficient
pretext for me to invite him to come, and for him to
accept my invitation. He came, in fact, in the
month of June, arriving at Ravenna on the day of
the festival of the Corpus Domini ; while I, attacked
by a consumptive complaint, which had its origin
from the moment of my quitting Venice, appeared
on the point of death. The arrival of a distinguished
foreigner at Ravenna, a town so remote from the
routes ordinarily followed by travellers, was an event
which gave rise to a good deal of conversation. His
motives for such a visit became the subject of dis-
cussion, and these he himself afterwards involun-
tarily divulged; for having made some enquiries
with a view to paying me a visit, and being told
that it was unlikely that he would ever see me again,
as I was at the point of death, he replied, if such
were the case, he hoped that he should die also ;
which circumstance, being repeated, revealed the
object of his journey. Count Guiccioli, having been
acquainted with Lord Byron at Venice, went to
visit him now, and in the hope that his presence
might amuse, and be of some use to me in the state
in which I then found myself, invited him to call
upon me. He came the day following. It is im-
possible to describe the anxiety he showed, — the
delicate attentions that he paid me. For a long time
he had perpetually medical books in his hands ; and

Dante himself (says Mr. Carey, in one of the notes on his
admirable translation of this poet) " perhaps wandered in this
wood during his abode with Guido Novello da Polenta."

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 167

not trusting my physicians, he obtained permission
from Count Guiccioli to send for a very clever phy-
sician, a friend of his, in whom he placed great con-
fidence. The attentions of Professor Aglietti (for
so this celebrated Italian was called), together with
tranquillity, and the inexpressible happiness which
I experienced in Lord Byron's society, had so good
an effect on my health, that only two months after-
wards I was able to accompany my husband in a
tour he was obliged to make to visit his various
estates." *

* " Partendo io da Venezia egli promise di venir a vedermi
a Ravenna. La Tomba di Dante, il classico bosco di pini,
gli avvanzi di antichita che a Ravenna si trovano davano a me
ragioni plausibili per invitarlo a venire, ed a lui per accettare
1'invito. Egli venne difatti nel mese Guigno, e giunse a Ra-
venna nel giorno della Solennita del Corpus Domini, mentre
io attaccata da una malattia de consunzione ch' ebbe principio
dalla mia partenza da Venezia ero vicina a morire. Li'arrivo
in Ravenna d'un forestiero distinto, in un paese cosl lontano
dalle strade che ordinariamente tengono i viaggiatori era un
avvenimento del quale molto si parlava, indagandosene i mo-
tivi, che involontariamente poi egli feci conoscere. Perche
avendo egli domandato di me per venire a vedermi ed essen-
dogli risposto ' che non potrebbe vedermi piu perche ero vicina
a morire ' — egli rispose che in quel caso voleva morire egli
pure ; la qual cosa essendosi poi ripetata si conobbe cosi 1'og-
getto del suo viaggio.

" II Conte Guiccioli visito Lord Byron, essendolo conosciuto
in Venezia, e nella speranza che la di lui compagnia potesse
distrarmi ed essermi di qual che giovamento nello stato in cui
mi trovavo egli Io invito di venire a visitarmi. II giorno ap-
presso egli venne. Non si potrebbero descrivere le cure, i
pensieri delicati, quanto egli fece per me. Per molto tempo
M 4

168 NOTICES OF THE 1819

LETTER 332. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" Ravenna, June 20. 1819.

" I wrote to you from Padua, and from Bologna,
and since from Ravenna. I find my situation very
agreeable, but want my horses very much, there
being good riding in the environs. I can fix no time
for my return to Venice — it may be soon or late —
or not at all — it all depends on the Donna, whom I
found very seriously in bed with a cough and spitting
of blood, &c. all of which has subsided. I found all
the people here firmly persuaded that she would
never recover ; — they were mistaken, however.

" My letters were useful as far as I employed
them ; and I like both the place and people, though
I don't trouble the latter more than I can help
She manages very well — but if I come away with a
stiletto in my gizzard some fine afternoon, I shall not
be astonished. I can't make him out at all — he visits
me frequently, and takes me out (like Whittington,
the Lord Mayor) in a coach arid six horses. The
fact appears to be, that he is completely governed

egli non ebbe per le inani che del Libri di Medicina ; e poco
confidandosi nel miei medici ottenne dal Conte Guiccioli il
permesso di far venire un valente medico di lui amico nel
quale egli aveva molta confidenza. Le cure del Professore
Aglietti (cosi si chiama questo distinto Italiano) la tranquillita,
anzi la felicita inesprimibile che mi cagionava la presenza di
Lord Byron migliorarono cosl rapidamente la mia salute che
entro lo spazio di due mesi potei seguire mio marito in un giro
che egli doveva fare per le sue terre." — MS*

1819. LIFE, OF LORD BYRON. 169

by her — for that matter, so am I.* The people
here don't know what to make of us, as he had the
character of jealousy with all his wives — this is the
third. He is the richest of the Ravennese, by their
own account, but is not popular among them. Now
do, pray, send off Augustine, and carriage and cattle,
to Bologna, without fail or delay, or I shall lose my
remaining shred of senses. Don't forget this. My
coming, going, and every thing, depend upon HER
entirely, just as Mrs. Hoppner (to whom I remit my
reverences) said in the true spirit of female pro-
phecy.

" You are but a shabby fellow not to have written
before. And I am truly yours," &c.

LETTER 333. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, June 29. 1819.

" The letters have been forwarded from Venice,
but I trust that you will not have waited for further
alterations — I will make none.

* That this task of " governing" him was one of more ease
than, from the ordinary view of his character, might be con-
cluded, I have more than once, in these pages, expressed my
opinion, arid shall here quote, in corroboration of it, the remark
of his own servant (founded on an observation of more than
twenty years), in speaking of his master's matrimonial fate : —
" It is very odd, but I never yet knew a lady that could not
manage my Lord, except my Lady."

" More knowledge," says Johnson, " may be gained of a
man's real character by a short conversation with one of his
servants than from the most formal and studied narrative."

170 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

" I have no time to return you the proofs — pub-
lish without them. I am glad you think the poesy
good ; and as to < thinking of the effect,' think you
of the sale, and leave me to pluck the porcupines
who may point their quills at you.

" I have been here (at Ravenna) these four weeks,
having left Venice a month ago ; — I came to see my
( Arnica,' the Countess Guiccioli, who has been, and
still continues, very unwell. * * She is only
in her seventeenth, but not of a strong constitution.
She has a perpetual cough and an intermittent fever,
but bears up most gallantly in every sense of the
word. Her husband (this is his third wife) is the
richest noble of Ravenna, and almost of Romagna ;
he is also not the youngest, being upwards of three-
score, but in good preservation. All this will appear
strange to you, who do not understand the meridian
morality, nor our way of life in such respects, and I
cannot at present expound the difference ; — but you
would find it much the same in these parts. At
Faenza there is Lord * * * * with an opera girl; and
at the inn in the same town is a Neapolitan Prince,
who serves the wife of the Gonfaloniere of that city.
I am on duty here — so you see < Cosl fan tutti e
tutfe.'

" I have my horses here, saddle as well as carriage,
and ride or drive every day in the forest, the Pineta,
the scene of Boccaccio's novel, and Dryden's fable of
Honoria, £c. &c. ; and I see my Dama every day ;
but I feel seriously uneasy about her health, which
seems very precarious. In losing her, I should lose
a being who has run great risks on my account, and

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 171

whom I have every reason to love — but I must not
think this possible. I do not know what 1 should do
if she died, but I ought to blow my brains out — and
I hope that I should. Her husband is a very polite
personage, but I wish he would not carry me out in
his coach and six, like Whittington and his cat.

" You ask me if I mean to continue D. J. &c.
How should I know ? What encouragement do you
give me, all of you, with your nonsensical prudery ?
publish the two Cantos, and then you will see. I
desired Mr. Kinnaird to speak to you on a little
matter of business ; either he has not spoken, or you
have not answered. You are a pretty pair, but I will
be even with you both. I perceive that Mr. Hob-
house has been challenged by Major Cartwright —
Is the Major * so cunning offence ?' — why did not
they fight ? — they ought.

" Yours," &c.

LETTER 334. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" Ravenna, July 2. 1819.

" Thanks for your letter and for Madame's. I
will answer it directly. Will you recollect whether
I did not consign to you one or two receipts of
Madame Mocenigo's for house-rent — (I am not
sure of this, but think I did — if not, they will be in
my drawers) — and will you desire Mr. Dorville * to
have the goodness to see if Edgecombe has receipts
to all payments hitherto made by him on my account,

* The Vice- Consul of Mr. Hoppner.

172 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

and that there are no debts at Venice ? On your
answer, I shall send order of further remittance to
carry on my household expenses, as my present re-
turn to Venice is very problematical ; and it may
happen — but I can say nothing positive — every
thing with me being indecisive and undecided, ex-
cept the disgust which Venice excites when fairly
compared with any other city in this part of Italy.
When I say Venice, I mean the Venetians — the
city itself is superb as its history — but the people
are what I never thought them till they taught me
to think so.

" The best way will be to leave Allegra with
Antonio's spouse till I can decide something about
her and myself — but I thought that you would have

had an answer from Mrs. V r.* You have had

bore enough with me and mine already.

" I greatly fear that the Guiccioli is going into a
consumption, to which her constitution tends. Thus
it is with every thing and every body for whom I feel
any thing like a real attachment ; — ' War, death, or

* An English widow lady, of considerable property in the
north of England, who, having seen the little Allegra at
Mr. Hoppner's, took an interest in the poor child's fate, and
having no family of her own, offered to adopt and provide for
this little girl, if Lord Byron would consent to renounce all
claim to her. At first he seemed not disinclined to enter into
her views — so far, at least, as giving permission that she
should take the child with her to England and educate it ;
but the entire surrender of his paternal authority he would by
no means consent to. The proposed arrangement accord-
ingly was never carried into effect.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 173

discord, doth lay siege to them.' I never even
could keep alive a dog that I liked or that liked me.
Her symptoms are obstinate cough of the lungs, and
occasional fever, &c. &c. and there are latent causes
of an eruption in the skin, which she foolishly re-
pelled into the system two years ago : but I have
made them send her case to Aglietti ; and have
begged him to come — if only for a day or two — to
consult upon her state.

" If it would not bore Mr. Dorville, I wish he

would keep an eye on E and on my other

ragamuffins. I might have more to say, but I am ab-
sorbed about La Gui. and her illness. I cannot tell
you the effect it has upon me.

" The horses came, &c. &c. and I have been gal-
loping through the pine forest daily.

" Believe me, &c.

" P. S. My benediction on Mrs. Hoppner, a plea-
sant journey among the Bernese tyrants, and safe
return. You ought to bring back a Platonic Bernese
for my reformation. If any thing happens to my
present Arnica, I have done with the passion for
ever — it is my last love. As to libertinism, I have
sickened myself of that, as was natural in the way I
went on, and I have at least derived that advantage
from vice, to love in the better sense of the word.
This will be my last adventure — I can hope no
more to inspire attachment, and I trust never again
to feel it."

The impression which, I think, cannot but be
entertained, from some passages of these letters, of

174? NOTICES OF THE 1819.

the real fervour and sincerity of his attachment to
Madame Guiccioli *, would be still further confirmed
by the perusal of his letters to that lady herself, both
from Venice and during his present stay at Ravenna
— all bearing, throughout, the true marks both of
affection and passion. Such effusions, however, are
but little suited to the general eye. It is the ten-
dency of all strong feeling, from dwelling constantly
on the same idea, to be monotonous ; and those often-
repeated vows and verbal endearments, which make
the charm of true love-letters to the parties con-
cerned in them, must for ever render even the best
of them cloying to others. Those of Lord Byron to
Madame Guiccioli, which are for the most part in
Italian, and written with a degree of ease and cor-
.

* " During my illness," says Madame Guiccioli, in her
recollections of this period, " he was for ever near me, paying
me the most amiable attentions, and when I became con-
valescent he was constantly at my side. In society, at the
theatre, riding, walking, he never was absent from me. Being
deprived at that time of his books, his horses, and all that
occupied him at Venice, I begged him to gratify me by writing
something on the subject of Dante, and, with his usual facility
and rapidity, he composed his ' Prophecy.'" — " Durante la
mia malattia L. B. era sempre presso di me, prestandomi le
piu sensibili cure, e quando passai allo stato di convalescenza
egli era sempre al mio fianco ; — e in societa, e al teatro, e
cavalcando, e passeggiando egli non si allontanava mai da me.
In queP epoca essendo egli privo de' suoi libri, e de' suoi
cavalli, e di tuttocio che lo occupava in Venezia io lo pregai di
volersi occupare per me scrivendo qualche cosa sul Dante ;
ed egli colla usata sua facilita e rapidita scrisse la sua Pro-
fezia."

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYROX. 175

rectness attained rarely by foreigners, refer chiefly
to the difficulties thrown in the way of their meet-
ings,— not so much by the husband himself, who
appears to have liked and courted Lord Byron's
society, as by the watchfulness of other relatives,
and the apprehension felt by themselves lest their
intimacy should give uneasiness to the father of
the lady, Count Gamba, a gentleman to whose
good nature and amiableness of character all who
know him bear testimony.

In the near approaching departure of the young
Countess for Bologna, Lord Byron foresaw a risk ot
their being again separated; and under the impa-
tience of this prospect, though through the whole
of his preceding letters the fear of committing her
by any imprudence seems to have been his ruling
thought, he now, with that wilfulness of the moment
which has so often sealed the destiny of years, pro-
posed that she should, at once, abandon her husband
and fly with him : — "c'e uno solo rimedio efficace,"
he says, — " cioe d' andar via insieme." To an Ita-
lian wife, almost every thing but this is permissible.
The same system which so indulgently allows her a
friend, as one of the regular appendages of her ma-
trimonial establishment, takes care also to guard
against all unseemly consequences of this privilege ;
and in return for such convenient facilities of wrong
exacts rigidly an observance of all the appearances
of right. Accordingly, the open step of deserting
the husband for the lover instead of being considered,
as in England, but a sign and sequel of transgression,
takes rank, in Italian morality, as the main transgres-

176 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

sion itself; and being an offence, too, rendered
wholly unnecessary by the latitude otherwise en-
joyed, becomes, from its rare occurrence, no less
monstrous than odious.

The proposition, therefore, of her noble friend
seemed to the young Contessa little less than sacri-
lege, and the agitation of her mind, between the
horrors of such a step, and her eager readiness to
give up all and every thing for him she adored, was
depicted most strongly in her answer to the proposal.
In a subsequent letter, too, the romantic girl even
proposed, as a means of escaping the ignominy of an
elopement, that she should, like another Juliet, " pass
for dead," — assuring him that there were many
easy ways of effecting such a deception.

LETTER 335. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, August 1. 1819.
[Address your Answer to Venice, however.]

" Don't be alarmed. You will see me defend
myself gaily — that is, if I happen to be in spirits;
and by spirits, I don't mean your meaning of the
word, but the spirit of a bull-dog when pinched, or
a bull when pinned ; it is then that they make best
sport; and as my sensations under an attack are
probably a happy compound of the united energies
of these amiable animals, you may perhaps see what
Marrall calls l rare sport,' and some good tossing
and goring, in the course of the controversy. But
I must be in the right cue first, and I doubt I am
almost too far off to be in a sufficient fury for the

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 177

purpose. And then I have effeminated and ener-
vated myself with love and the summer in these last
two months.

" I wrote to Mr. Hobhouse, the other day, and
foretold that Juan would either fall entirely or suc-
ceed completely; there will be no medium. Ap-
pearances are not favourable ; but as you write the
day after publication, it can hardly be decided what
opinion will predominate. You seem in a fright,
and doubtless with cause. Come what may I never
will flatter the million's canting in any shape. Cir-
cumstances may or may not have placed me at times
in a situation to lead the public opinion, but the
public opinion never led, nor ever shall lead, me.
I will not sit on a degraded throne; so pray put
Messrs. * * or * *, or Tom Moore, or * * * upon it ;
they will all of them be transported with their
coronation.

" P. S. The Countess Guiccioli is much better
than she was. I sent you, before leaving Venice,
the real original sketch which gave rise to the
' Vampire,' &c. — Did you get it ?"

This letter was, of course (like most of those he
addressed to England at this time), intended to be
shown ; and having been, among others, permitted
to see it, I took occasion, in my very next com-
munication to Lord Byron, to twit him a little with
the passage in it relating to myself, — the only one,
as far as I can learn, that ever fell from my noble
friend's pen during our intimacy, in which he has
spoken of me otherwise than in terms of kindness

VOL. IV. N

178 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

and the most undeserved praise. Transcribing his
own words, as well as I could recollect them, at the
top of my letter, I added, underneath, " Is this the
way you speak of your friends ? " Not long after,
too, when visiting him at Venice, I rememher making
the same harmless little sneer a subject of raillery
with him ; but he declared boldly that he had no
recollection of having ever written such words, and
that, if they existed, " he must have been half
asleep when he wrote them."

I have mentioned the circumstance merely for the
purpose of remarking, that with a sensibility vul-
nerable at so many points as his was, and acted
upon by an imagination so long practised in self-
tormenting, it is only wonderful that, thinking con-
stantly, as his letters prove him to have been, of
distant friends, and receiving from few or none
equal proofs of thoughtfblness in return, he should
not more frequently have broken out into such
sallies against the absent and " unreplying." For
myself, I can only say that, from the moment I
began to unravel his character, the most slighting
and even acrimonious expressions that I could have
heard he had, in a fit of spleen, uttered against me,
would have no more altered my opinion of his dis-
position, nor disturbed my affection for him, than
the momentary clouding over of a bright sty could
leave an impression on the mind of gloom, after its
shadow had passed away.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 179

LETTER 336. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, August 9. 1819.

u Talking of blunders reminds me of Ireland —
Ireland of Moore. What is this I see in Galignani
about ' Bermuda — agent — deputy — appeal — at-
tachment,' &c. ? What is the matter ? Is it any
thing in which his friends can be of use to him ?
Pray inform me.

" Of Don Juan I hear nothing further from you ;

* * *, but the papers don't seem so fierce as the
letter you sent me seemed to anticipate, by their
extracts at least in Galignani's Messenger. I never
saw such a set of fellows as you are ! And then the
pains taken to exculpate the modest publisher — he
remonstrated, forsooth ! I will write a preface that
shall exculpate you and * * *, &c. completely, on that
point ; but, at the same time, I will cut you up, like
gourds. You have no more soul than the Count de
Caylus, (who assured his friends, on his death-bed,
that he had none, and that he must know better
than they whether he had one or no,) and no more
blood than a water-melon ! And I see there hath
been asterisks, and what Perry used to called

* domned cutting and slashing' — but, never mind.

" I write in haste. To-morrow I set off for
Bologna. I write to you with thunder, lightning,
&c. and all the winds of heaven whistling through
my hair, and the racket of preparation to boot.
4 My mistress dear, who hath fed my heart upon
smiles and wine' for the last two months, set off
with her husband for Bologna this morning, and it
N 2

J80 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

seems that I follow him at three to-morrow morning.
I cannot tell how our romance will end, but it hath
gone on hitherto most erotically. Such perils and
escapes ! Juan's are as child's play in comparison.
The fools think that all my poeshie is always allusive
to my own adventures : I have had at one time or
another better and more extraordinary and perilous
and pleasant than these, every day of the week, if
I might tell them ; but that must never be.
" I hope Mrs. M. has accouched.

" Yours ever."

LETTER 337. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Bologna, August 12. 1819.

" I do not know how far I may be able to reply
to your letter, for I am not very well to-day. Last
night I went to the representation of Alfieri's Mirra,
the two last acts of which threw me into con-
vulsions. I do not mean by that word a lady's
hysterics, but the agony of reluctant tears, and the
choking shudder, which I do not often undergo for
fiction. This is but the second time for any thing
under reality : the first was on seeing Kean's Sir
Giles Overreach. The worst was, that the f Dama' in
whose box I was, went off in the same way, I really
believe more from fright than any other sympathy
— at least with the players : but she has been ill, and
I have been ill, and we are all languid and pathetic
this morning, with great expenditure of sal volatile.*
But, to return to your letter of the 23d of July.

* The " Dama," in whose compcny he witnessed this re-
presentation, thus describes its effect upon him : — " The play

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 181

" You are right, Gifford is right, Crabbe is right,
Hobhouse is right — you are all right, and I am
all wrong ; but do, pray, let me have that pleasure.
Cut me up root and branch ; quarter me in the
Quarterly ; send round my < disjecti membra poetae,'
like those of the Levite's concubine ; make me, if
you will, a spectacle to men and angels ; but don't
ask me to alter, for I won't : — I am obstinate and
lazy — and there's the truth.

" But, nevertheless, I will answer your friend
P * *, who objects to the quick succession of fun and
gravity, as if in that case the gravity did not (in
intention, at least) heighten the fun. His metaphor
is, that ' we are never scorched and drenched at the

was that of Mirra ; the actors, and particularly the actress who
performed the part of Mirra, seconded with much success the
intentions of our great dramatist. Lord Byron took a strong
interest in the representation, and it was evident that he was
deeply affected. At length there came a point of the perform-
ance at which he could no longer restrain his emotions; — he
burst into a flood of tears, and, his sobs preventing him from
remaining any longer in the box, he rose and left the theatre.
— I saw him similarly affected another time during a repre-
sentation of Alfieri's ' Philip,' at Ravenna." — " Gli attori, e
special men te 1' attrice che rappresentava Mirra secondava assai
bene la mente del nostro grande tragico. L. B. prece molto
interesse alia rappresentazione, e si conosceva ehe era molto
commosso. Venne un punto poi della tragedia in cui non
pote piii frenare la sua emozione, — diede in un diretto pianto
e i singhiozzi gl' impedirono di piu restare nei palco ; onde
si levo, e parti dal teatro. In uno stato simile lo viddi un
altra volta a Ravenna ad una rappresentazione del Filippo
d'Alfieri."

N 3

182 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

same time.' Blessings on his experience ! Ask him
these questions about ' scorching and drenching.'
Did he never play at cricket, or walk a mile in hot
weather ? Did he never spill a dish of tea over him-
self in handing the cup to his charmer, to the great
shame of his nankeen breeches ? Did he never swim
in the sea at noonday with the sun in his eyes and
on his head, which all the foam of ocean could not
cool ? Did he never draw his foot out of too hot
water, d — ning his eyes and his valet's ? Did he
never tumble into a river or lake, fishing, and sit in
his wet clothes in the boat, or on the bank, after-
wards * scorched and drenched,' like a true sports-
man ? ' Oh for breath to utter ! ' — but make him
my compliments ; he is a clever fellow for all that
— a very clever fellow.

" You ask me for the plan of Donny Johnny : I
have no plan ; I had no plan ; but I had or have ma-
terials ; though if, like Tony Lumpkin, * I am to be
snubbed so when I am in spirits,' the poem will be
naught, and the poet turn serious again. If it don't
take, I will leave it off where it is, with all due
respect to the public ; but if continued, it must be
in my own way. You might as well make Harnlet
(or Diggory) « act mad ' in a strait waistcoat as
trammel my buffoonery, if I am to be a buffoon ;
their gestures and my thoughts would only be piti-
ably absurd and ludicrously constrained. Why, man,
the soul of such writing is its licence ; at least
the liberty of that licence, if one likes — not that one
should abuse it. Jt is like Trial by Jury and Peer-
age and the Habeas Corpus — a very fine thing,

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 183

but chiefly in the reversion ; because no one wishes
to be tried for the mere pleasure of proving his
possession of the privilege.

" But a truce with these reflections. You are too
earnest and eager about a work never intended to
be serious. Do you suppose that I could have any
intention but to giggle and make giggle ? — a play-
ful satire, with as little poetry as could be helped,
was what I meant. And as to the indecency, do,
pray, read in Boswell what Johnson, the sullen
moralist, says of Prior and Paulo Purgante.

" Will you get a favour done for me ? You can,
by your government friends, Croker, Canning, or
my old schoolfellow Peel, and I can't. Here it is.
Will you ask them to appoint (without salary or
emolument) a noble Italian (whom I will name after-
wards) consul or vice-consul for Ravenna ? He is a
man of very large property, — noble, too ; but he
wishes to have a British protection, in case of
changes. Ravenna is near the sea. He wants no
emolument whatever. That his office might be use-
ful, I know ; as I lately sent off from Ravenna to
Trieste a poor devil of an English sailor, who had
remained there sick, sorry, and pennyless (having
been set ashore in 1814?), from the want of any ac-
credited agent able or willing to help him home-
wards. Will you get this done ? If you do, I will
then send his name and condition, subject, of course,
to rejection, if not approved when known.

" I know that in the Levant you make consuls
and vice-consuls, perpetually, of foreigners. This
man is a patrician, and has twelve thousand a year.

184 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

His motive is a British protection in case of new
invasions. Don't you think Croker would do it for
us ? To be sure, my interest is rare ! ! but, perhaps,
a brother wit in the Tory line might do a good turn
at the request of so harmless and long absent a
Whig, particularly as there is no salary or burden of
any sort to be annexed to the office.

" I can assure you, I should look upon it as a great
obligation ; but, alas ! that very circumstance may,
very probably, operate to the contrary — indeed, it
ought ; but I have, at least, been an honest and an
open enemy. Amongst your many splendid govern-
ment connections, could not you, think you, get our
Bibulus made a Consul ? or make me one, that I may
make him my Vice. You may be assured that, in
case of accidents in Italy, he would be no feeble
adjunct — as you would think, if you knew his
patrimony.

" What is all this about Tom Moore ? but why do
I ask ? since the state of my own affairs would not
permit me to be of use to him, though they are
greatly improved since 1816, and may, with some
more luck and a little prudence, become quite clear.
It seems his claimants are American merchants?
There goes Nemesis! Moore abused America. It is
always thus in the long run : — Time, the Avenger.
You have seen every trampler down, in turn, from
Buonaparte to the simplest individuals. You saw
how some were avenged even upon my insignifi-
cance, and how in turn * * * paid for his atrocity.
It is an odd world ; but the watch has its mainspring,
after all.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 185

" So the Prince has been repealing Lord Edward
Fitzgerald's forfeiture ? Ecco un sonetto !

" To be the father of the fatherless,
To stretch the hand from the throne's height, and raise
His offspring, who expired in other days
To make thy sire's sway by a kingdom less, —
This is to be a monarch, and repress
Envy into unutterable praise.
Dismiss thy guard, and trust thee to such traits,
For who would lift a hand, except to bless ?
Were it not easy, sir, and is't not sweet
To make thyself beloved? and to be
Omnipotent by Mercy's means ? for thus
Thy sovereignty would grow but more complete,
A despot thou, and yet thy people free,
And by the heart, not hand, enslaving us.

" There, you dogs ! there's a sonnet for you : you
won't have such as that in a hurry from Mr. Fitz-
gerald. You may publish it with my name, an' ye
wool. He deserves all praise, bad and good ; it was
a very noble piece of principality. Would you like
an epigram — a translation ?

" If for silver, or for gold,

You could melt ten thousand pimples
Into half a dozen dimples,
Then your face we might behold,

Looking, doubtless, much more snugly,
Yet ev'n then 'twould be d — d ugly.

" This was written on some Frenchwoman, by
Rulhieres, I believe. Yours."

186 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

LETTER 338. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Bologna, August 23. 1819.

" I send you a letter to R * * ts, signed Wortley
Clutterbuck, which you may publish in what form
you please, in answer to his article. I have had
many proofs of men's absurdity, but he beats all in
folly. Why, the wolf in sheep's clothing has tumbled
into the very trap ! We'll strip him. The letter is
written in great haste, and amidst a thousand vex-
ations. Your letter only came yesterday, so that
there is no time to polish : the post goes out to-
morrow. The date is « Little Piddlington.' Let
# * * * correct the press : he knows and can read
the handwriting. Continue to keep the anonymous
about 'Juan;' it helps us to fight against over-
whelming numbers. I have a thousand distractions
at present ; so excuse haste, and wonder I can act
or write at all. Answer by post, as usual.

" Yours.

" P. S. If I had had time, and been quieter and
nearer, I would have cut him to hash ; but as it is,
you can judge for yourselves."

The letter to the Reviewer, here mentioned, had
its origin in rather an amusing circumstance. In
the first Canto of Don Juan appeared the following
passage : —

" For fear some prudish readers should grow skittish,
I've bribed My Grandmother's Review, — the British !

" I sent it in a letter to the editor,

Who thank'd me duly by return of post —

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 187

I'm for a handsome article his creditor ;

Yet if my gentle Muse he please to roast,
And break a promise after having made.it her,

Denying the receipt of what it cost,
And smear his page with gall instead of honey,
All I can say is — that he had the money."

On the appearance of the poem, the learned
editor of the Review in question allowed himself to
be decoyed into the ineffable absurdity of taking the
charge as serious, and, in his succeeding number,
came forth with an indignant contradiction of it.
To this tempting subject the letter, written so
hastily off at Bologna, related ; but, though printed
for Mr. Murray, in a pamphlet consisting of twenty-
three pages, it was never published by him.* Being
valuable, however, as one of the best specimens we
have of Lord Byron's simple and thoroughly English
prose, I shall here preserve some extracts from it.

" TO THE EDITOR OF THE BRITISH REVIEW.

" My dear R ts,

" As a believer in the Church of England — to
say nothing of the State — I have been an occasional
reader, and great admirer, though not a subscriber,
to your Review. But I do not know that any article
of its contents ever gave me much surprise till the
eleventh of your late twenty-seventh number made
its appearance. You have there most manfully re-
futed a calumnious accusation of bribery and cor-
ruption, the credence of which in the public mind

* It appeared afterwards in the Liberal.

188 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

might not only have damaged your reputation as a
clergyman and an editor, but, what would have been
still worse, have injured the circulation of your
journal ; which, I regret to hear, is not so extensive
as the ' purity (as you well observe) of its, &c. &c.'
and the present taste for propriety, would induce
us to expect. The charge itself is of a solemn na-
ture ; and, although in verse, is couched in terms
of such circumstantial gravity as to induce a belief
little short of that generally accorded to the thirty-
nine articles, to which you so generously subscribed
on taking your degrees. It is a charge the most
revolting to the heart of man from its frequent
occurrence ; to the mind of a statesman from its
occasional truth ; and to the soul of an editor from
its moral impossibility. You are charged then in
the last line of one octave stanza, and the whole
eight lines of the next, viz. 209th and 210th of the
first Canto of that l pestilent poem,' Don Juan, with
receiving, and still more foolishly acknowledging,
the receipt of certain moneys to eulogise the un-
known author, who by this account must be known
to you, if to nobody else. An impeachment of this
nature, so seriously made, there is but one way of
refuting ; and it is my firm persuasion, that whether
you did or did not (and /believe that you did not)
receive the said moneys, of which I wish that he
had specified the sum, you are quite right in denying
all knowledge of the transaction. If charges of this
nefarious description are to go forth, sanctioned by
all the solemnity of circumstance, and guaranteed
by the veracity of verse (as Counsellor Phillips would

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 189

say), what is to become of readers hitherto im-
plicitly confident in the not less veracious prose of
our critical journals ? what is to become of the re-
views ; and, if the reviews fail, what is to become of
the editors ? It is common cause, and you have done
well to sound the alarm. I myself, in my humble
sphere, will be one of your echoes. In the words of
the tragedian Liston, « I love a row,' and you seem
justly determined to make one.

" It is barely possible, certainly improbable, that
the writer might have been in jest ; but this only
aggravates his crime. A joke, the proverb says,
4 breaks no bones ;' but it may break a bookseller, or
it may be the cause of bones being broken. The
jest is but a bad one at the best for the author, and
might have been a still worse one for you, if your
copious contradiction did not certify to all whom it
may concern your own indignant innocence, and the
immaculate purity of the British Review. I do not

doubt your word, my dear R ts, yet I cannot

help wishing that, in a case of such vital importance,
it had assumed the more substantial shape of an
affidavit sworn before the Lord Mayor Atkins, who
readily receives any deposition ; and doubtless would
have brought it in some way as evidence of the de-
signs of the Reformers to set fire to London, at the
same time that he himself meditates the same good
office towards the river Thames.

" I recollect hearing, soon after the publication,
this subject discussed at the tea-table of Mr. * * *
the poet, — and Mrs. and the Misses ***** being
in a corner of the room perusing the proof sheets of

190 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

Mr. * * * 's poems, the male part of the conversazione
were at liberty to make some observations on the
poem and passage in question, and there was a
difference of opinion. Some thought the allusion was
to the ' British Critic ;' others, that by the expres-
sion ' My Grandmother's Review,' it was intimated
that * my grandmother' was not the reader of the
review, but actually the writer ; thereby insinuating",

my dear Mr. II ts, that you were an old woman ;

because, as people often say, ' Jeffrey's Review,'
' Gifford's Review,' in lieu of Edinburgh and Quar-
terly, so * My Grandmother's Review' and R ts's

might be also synonymous. Now, whatever colour
this insinuation might derive from the circumstance
of your wearing a gown, as well as from your time
of life, your general style, and various passages of
your writings, — I will take upon myself to excul-
pate you from all suspicion of the kind, and assert,

without calling Mrs. R ts in testimony, that if

ever you should be chosen Pope, you will pass
through all the previous ceremonies with as much
credit as any pontiff since the parturition of Joan.
It is very unfair to judge of sex from writings, par-
ticularly from those of the British Review. We are
all liable to be deceived, and it is an indisputable fact
that many of the best articles in your journal, which
were attributed to a veteran female, were actually
written by you yourself, and yet to this day there
are people who could never find out the difference.
But let us return to the more immediate question.

" I agree with you that it is impossible Lord B.
should be the author, not only because, as a British

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 191

peer and a British poet, it would be impracticable
for him to have recourse to such facetious fiction, but
for some other reasons which you have omitted to
state. In the first place, his Lordship has no grand-
mother. Now the author — and we may believe him
in this — doth expressly state that th e_j British ^Js
his ' Grandmother's ReviewLil^aildJ^ as I think I
have distinctly proved, this was not a mere figur-
ative allusion to your supposed intellectual age
and sex, my dear friend, it follows, whether you be
she or no, that there is such an elderly lady still
extant.

" Shall I give you what I think a prudent opinion?
I don't mean to insinuate, God forbid ! but if, by
any accident, there should have been such a cor-
respondence between you and the unknown author,
whoever he may be, send him back his money ; I
dare say he will be very glad to have it again ; it
can't be much, considering the value of the article
and the circulation of the journal ; and you are too
modest to rate your praise beyond its real worth : —
don't be angry, I know you won't, at this appraise-
ment of your powers of eulogy : for on the other
hand, my dear fellow, depend upon it your abuse is
worth, not its own weight, that's a feather, but
your weight in gold. So don't spare it ; if he has
bargained for that, give it handsomely, and depend
upon your doing him a friendly office.

" What the motives of this writer may have been
for (as you magnificently translate his quizzing you)
* stating, with the particularity which belongs to
fact, the forgery of a groundless fiction/ (do, pray,

192 NOTICES OF THE

1819.

my dear R., talk a little less « in King Cambyses'
vein/) I cannot pretend to say ; perhaps to laugh at
you, but that is no reason for your benevolently
making all the world laugh also. I approve of your
being angry, I tell you I am angry too, but you
should not have shown it so outrageously. Your
solemn * if somebody personating the Editor of the,
&c. &c. has received from Lord B. or from any
other person,' reminds me of Charley Incledon's
usual exordium when people came into the tavern
to hear him sing without paying their share of the
reckoning — ' if a maun, or ony maun, or ony other
maun,' &c. &c. ; you have both the same redundant
eloquence. But why should you think any body
would personate you ? Nobody would dream of such
a prank who ever read your compositions, and perhaps
not many who have heard your conversation. But
I have been inoculated with a little of your prolixity.

The fact is, my dear R ts, that somebody has

tried to make a fool of you, and what he did not
succeed in doing, you have done for him and for
yourself."

Towards the latter end of August, Count Guiccioli,
accompanied by his lady, went for a short time to
visit some of his Romagnese estates, while Lord
Byron remained at Bologna alone. And here, with
a heart softened and excited by the new feeling that
had taken possession of him, he appears to have given
himself up, during this interval of solitude, to a train
of melancholy and impassioned thought, such as, for
a time, brought back all the romance of his youth-

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 193

ful days. That spring of natural tenderness within
his soul, which neither the world's efforts nor his own
had been able to chill or choke up, was now, with
something of its first freshness, set flowing once more.
He again knew what it was to love and be loved, —
too late, it is true, for happiness, and too wrongly
for peace, but with devotion enough, on the part of
the woman, to satisfy even his thirst for affection,
and with a sad earnestness, on his own, a foreboding
fidelity, which made him cling but the more passion-
ately to this attachment from feeling that it would
be his last.

A circumstance which he himself used to mention
as having occurred at this period will show how over-
powering, at times, was the rush of melancholy over
his heart. It was his fancy, during Madame
Guiccioli's absence from Bologna, to go daily to her
house at his usual hour of visiting her, and there,
causing her apartments to be opened, to sit turning
over her books, and writing in them. * He would

* One of these notes, written at the end of the 5th chapter,
18th book of Corinne (" Fragmens des Pense"es de Corinne")
is as follows : —

" I knew Madame de Stael well, — better than she knew
Italy, — but I little thought that, one day, I should think ivith
her thoughts, in the country where she has laid the scene of her
most attractive productions. She is sometimes right, and often
wrong, about Italy and England ; but almost always true in
delineating the heart, which is of but one nation, and of no
country, — or, rather, of all.

" BYRON.
" Bologna, August 23. 1819."

VOL. IV. O

194? NOTICES OF THE 1819.

then descend into her garden, where he passed hours
in musing ; and it was on an occasion of this kind,
as he stood looking, in a state of unconscious reverie,
into one of those fountains so common in the gardens
of Italy, that there came suddenly into his mind such
desolate fancies, such bodings of the misery he might
bring on her he loved, by that doom which (as he
has himself written) "makes it fatal to be loved*,"
that, overwhelmed with his own thoughts, he burst
into an agony of tears.

During the same few days it was that he wrote in
the last page of Madame Guiccioli's copy of
" Corinne " the following remarkable note : —

" My dearest Teresa, — I have read this book in
your garden ; — my love, you were absent, or else I
could not have read it. It is a favourite book of
yours, and the writer was a friend of mine. You
will not understand these English words, and others
will not understand them — which is the reason I
have not scrawled them in Italian. But you will
recognise the hand-writing of him who passionately
loved you, and you will divine that, over a book
which was yours, he could only think of love. In

* " Oh Love ! what is it, in this world of ours,

Which makes it fatal to be loved? ah! why
With cypress branches hast thou wreath'd thy bowers,

And made thy best interpreter a sigh?
As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers,

And place them on their breasts — but place to die —
Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish
• Are laid within our bosoms but to perish."

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 195

that word, beautiful in all languages, but most so in
yours — Amor mio — is comprised my existence
here and hereafter. I feel I exist here, and I fear
that I shall exist hereafter, — to what purpose you
will decide ; my destiny rests with you, and you are
a woman, seventeen years of age, and two out of a
convent. I wish that you had stayed there, with all
my heart, — or, at least, that I had never met you
in your married state.

" But all this is too late. I love you, and you
love me, — at least, you say so, and act as if you did
so, which last is a great consolation in all events.
But /more than love you, and cannot cease to love
you.

" Think of me, sometimes, when the Alps and the
ocean divide us, — but they never will, unless you
wish it. BYRON.

" Bologna, August 25. 1819."

LETTER 339. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Bologna, August 24. 1819.

" I wrote to you by last post, enclosing a buffoon-
ing letter for publication, addressed to the buffoon

R ts, who has thought proper to tie a canister to

his own tail. It was written off-hand, and in the
midst of circumstances not very favourable to face-
tiousness, so that there may, perhaps, be more bit-
terness than enough for that sort of small acid punch:
— you will tell me.

" Keep the anonymous, in any case : it helps what
fun there may be. But if the matter grow serious
o 2

196 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

about Don Juan, and you feel yourself in a scrape,
or me either, own that! am the author, /will never
shrink ; and if you do, I can always answer you in
the question of Guatimozin to his minister — each
being on his own coals.*

" I wish that I had been in better spirits ; but I
am out of sorts, out of nerves, and now and then (I
begin to fear) out of my senses. All this Italy has
done for me, and not England : I defy all you, and
your climate to boot, to make me mad. But if ever
I do really become a bedlamite, and wear a strait
waistcoat, let me be brought back among you ; your
people will then be proper company.

" I assure you what I here say and feel has nothing
to do with England, either in a literary or personal
point of view. All my present pleasures or plagues
are as Italian as the opera. And after all, they are
but trifles; for all this arises from my ' Dama's1
being in the country for three days (at Capo-flume).
But as I could never live but for one human being
at a time, (and, I assure you, that one has never been
myself, as you may know by the consequences, for
the selfish are successful in life,) I feel alone and
unhappy.

I have sent for my daughter from Venice, and I
ride daily, and walk in a garden, under a purple
canopy of grapes, and sit by a fountain, and talk with
the gardener of his tools, which seem greater than
Adam's, and with his wife, and with his son's wife,
who is the youngest of the party, and, I think, talks

* " Am I now reposing on a bed of flowers ? "

See ROBERTSON*.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 197

best of the three. Then I revisit the Campo Santo,
and my old friend, the sexton, has two — but one the
prettiest daughter imaginable ; and I amuse myself
with contrasting her beautiful and innocent face of
fifteen with the skulls with which he has peopled
several cells, and particularly with that of one skull
dated 1766, which was once covered (the tradition
goes) by the most lovely features of Bologna — noble
and rich. When I look at these, and at this girl —
when I think of what they ivere, and what she must
be — why, then, my dear Murray, I won't shock you
by saying what I think. It is little matter what
becomes of us ' bearded men,' but I don't like the
notion of a beautiful woman's lasting less than a
beautiful tree — than her own picture — her own
shadow, which won't change so to the sun as her
face to the mirror. I must leave off, for my head
aches consumedly. I have never been quite well
since the night of the representation of Alfieri's
Mirra, a fortnight ago. Yours ever."

LETTER 340. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Bologna, August 29. 1819.

" I have been in a rage these two days, and am
still bilious therefrom. You shall hear. A captain
of dragoons, * *, Hanoverian by birth, in the Papal
troops at present, whom I had obliged by a loan when
nobody would lend him a paul, recommended a horse
to me, on sale by a Lieutenant * *, an officer who
unites the sale of cattle to the purchase of men. I
bought it. The next day, on shoeing the horse, we
o 3

198 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

discovered the thrush, — the animal being warranted
sound. I sent to reclaim the contract and the money.
The lieutenant desired to speak with me in person.
I consented. He came. It was his own particular
request. He began a story. I asked him if he
would return the money. He said no — but he
would exchange. He asked an exorbitant price for
his other horses. I told him that he was a thief.
He said he was an officer and a man of honour, and
pulled out a Parmesan passport signed by General
Count Neifperg. I answered, that as he was an
officer, I would treat him as such ; and that as to his
being a gentleman, he might prove it by returning
the money : as for his Parmesan passport, I should
have valued it more if it had been a Parmesan
cheese. He answered in high terms, and said that
if it were the morning (it was about eight o'clock in
the evening) he would have satisfaction. I then lost
my temper: 'As for THAT,' I replied, 'you shall
have it directly, — it will be mutual satisfaction, I
can assure you. You are a thief, and, as you say, an
officer ; my pistols are in the next room loaded ; take
one of the candles, examine, and make your choice
of weapons.' He replied, that pistols were English
weapons ; he always fought with the sword. I told
him that I was able to accommodate him, having
three regimental swords in a drawer near us : and he
might take the longest and put himself on guard.

" All this passed in presence of a third person.
He then said No; but to-morrow morning he would
give me the meeting at any time or place. I
answered that it was not usual to appoint meetings

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 199

in the presence of witnesses, and that we had best
speak man to man, and appoint time and instruments.
But as the man present was leaving the room, the
Lieutenant * *, before he could shut the door after
him, ran out roaring * Help and murder' most lustily,
and fell into a sort of hysteric in the arms of about
fifty people, who all saw that I had no weapon of
any sort or kind about me, and followed him, asking
him what the devil was the matter with him. Nothing
would do : he ran away without his hat, and went to
bed, ill of the fright. He then tried his complaint at
the police, which dismissed it as frivolous. He is, I
believe, gone away, or going.

" The horse was warranted, but, I believe, so
worded that the villain will not be obliged to
refund, according to law. He endeavoured to raise
up an indictment of assault and battery, but as it
was in a public inn, in a frequented street, there
were too many witnesses to the contrary ; and, as a
military man, he has not cut a martial figure, even
in the opinion of the priests. He ran off in such a
hurry that he left his hat, and never missed it till he
got to his hostel or inn. The facts are as I tell you,
I can assure you. He began by t coming Captain
Grand over me,' or I should never have thought of
trying his « cunning in fence.' But what could I
do ? He talked of ' honour, and satisfaction, and his
commission ;' he produced a military passport; there
are severe punishments for regular duels on the Con-
tinent, and trifling ones for rencontres, so that it is
best to fight it out directly ; he had robbed, and then
wanted to insult me ; — what could I do ? My patience

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 201

fifteenth of September: we visited the Euganean
Hills and Arqua, and wrote our names in the book
which is presented to those who make this pilgrim-
age. But I cannot linger over these recollections
of happiness ; — the contrast with the present is too
dreadfuL If a blessed spirit, while in the full
enjoyment of heavenly happiness, were sent down
to this earth to suffer all its miseries, the contrast
could not be more dreadful between the past and
the present, than what I have endured from the
moment when that terrible word reached my ears,
and I for ever lost the hope of again beholding him,
one look from whom I valued beyond earth's all
happiness. When I arrived at Venice, the phy-
sicians ordered that I should try the country air,
and Lord Byron, having a villa at La Mira, gave it
up to me, and came to reside there with me. At
this place we passed the autumn, and there I had
the pleasure of forming your acquaintance. " *

* " II Conte Guiccioli doveva per affari ritornare a Ra-
venna ; lo stato della mia salute esiggeva che io ritornassi in
vece a Venezia. Egli acconsenti dunque che Lord Byron,
mi fosse compagno di viaggio. Partimmo da Bologna alii 15
di Sre. — visitammo insieme i Colli Euganei ed Arqua ; scri-
vemmo i nostri nomi nel libro che si presenta a quelli che
fanno quel pellegrinaggio. Ma sopra tali rimembranze di felicita
non posso fermarmi, caro Signr. Moore; 1'opposizione col
presente 6 troppo forte, e se un anima benedetta nel pieno
godimento di tutte le felicita celesti fosse mandata quaggiu
e condannata a sopportare tutte le miserie della nostra terra
non potrebbe sentire piti terribile contrasto fra il passato ed il
presente di quello che io sento dacche quella terribile parola e"
giunta alle mie orecchie, dacche ho perduto la speranza di piu

202 NOTICES OF THE 1819*

It was my good fortune, at this period, in the
course of a short and hasty tour through the north
of Italy, to pass five or six days with Lord Byron at
Venice. I had written to him on my way thither
to announce my coming, and to say how happy it
would make me could I tempt him to accompany
me as far as Rome.

During my stay at Geneva, an opportunity had
been afforded me of observing the exceeding readi-
ness with which even persons the least disposed to
be prejudiced gave an ear to any story relating to
Lord Byron, in which the proper portions of odium
and romance were but plausibly mingled. In the
course of conversation, one day, with the late
amiable and enlightened Monsieur D * *, that gen-
tleman related, with much feeling, to my fellow-
traveller and myself, the details of a late act of
seduction of which Lord Byron had, he said, been
guilty, and which was made to comprise within
itself all the worst features of such unmanly frauds
upon innocence; — the victim, a young unmarried
lady, of one of the first families of Venice, whom
the noble seducer had lured from her father's house
to his own, and, after a few weeks, most inhumanly
turned her out of doors. In vain, said the relator,
did she entreat to become his servant, his slave ; —

vedere quello di cui uno sguardo valeva per me piu di tutte le
felicita della terra. Giunti a Venezia i medici mi ordinarono
di respirare 1'aria della campagna. Egli aveva una villa alia
Mira, — la cedesse a me, e venne meco. La passainmo 1'autun-
no, e la ebbi il bene di fare la vostra conoscenza." — MS.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 203

in vain did she ask to remain in some dark corner
of his mansion, from which she might be able to
catch a glimpse of his form as he passed. Her
betrayer was obdurate, and the unfortunate young
lady, in despair at being thus abandoned by him,
threw herself into the canal, from which she was
taken out but to be consigned to a mad-house.
Though convinced that there must be considerable
exaggeration in this story, it was only on my arrival
at Venice I ascertained that the whole was a romance ;
and that out of the circumstances (already laid before
the reader) connected with Lord Byron's fantastic
and, it must be owned, discreditable fancy for the
Fornarina, this pathetic tale, so implicitly believed
at Geneva, was fabricated.

Having parted at Milan, with Lord John Russell,
whom I had accompanied from England, and whom
I was to rejoin, after a short visit to Rome, at
Genoa, I made purchase of a small and (as it soon
proved) crazy travelling carriage, and proceeded
alone on my way to Venice. My time being limited,
I stopped no longer at the intervening places than
was sufficient to hurry over their respective wonders,
and, leaving Padua at noon on the 8th of October, I
found myself, about two o'clock, at the door of my
friend's villa, at La Mira. He was but just up, and
in his bath ; but the servant having announced my
arrival, he returned a message that, if I would wait
till he was dressed, he would accompany me to
Venice. The interval I employed in conversing with
my old acquaintance, Fletcher, and in viewing, under
his guidance, some of the apartments of the villa.

204- NOTICES OF THE

1819-

It was not long before Lord Byron himself made
his appearance; and the delight I felt in meeting
him once more, after a separation of so many years,
was not a little heightened by observing that his
pleasure was, to the full, as great, while it was
rendered doubly touching by the evident rarity of
such meetings to him of late, and the frank outbreak
of cordiality and gaiety with which he gave way to
his feelings. It would be impossible, indeed, to
convey to those who have not, at some time or
other, felt the charm of his manner, any idea of
what it could be when under the influence of such
pleasurable excitement as it was most flatteringly
evident he experienced at this moment.

I was a good deal struck, however, by the altera-
tion that had taken place in his personal appearance.
He had grown fatter both in person and face, and
the latter had most suffered by the change, — having
lost, by the enlargement of the features, some of that
refined and spiritualised look that had, in other times,
distinguished it. The addition of whiskers, too,
which he had not long before been induced to adopt,
from hearing that some one had said he had a " faccia
di musico," as well as the length to which his hair
grew down on his neck, and the rather foreign air of
his coat and cap, — all combined to produce that
dissimilarity to his former self I had observed in
him. He was still, however, eminently handsome :
and, in exchange for whatever his features might
have lost of their high, romantic character, they had
become more fitted for the expression of that arch,
waggish wisdom, that Epicurean play of humour,

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 205

which he had shown to be equally inherent in his
various and prodigally gifted nature ; while, by the
somewhat increased roundness of the contours, the
resemblance of his finely formed mouth and chin to
those of the Belvedere Apollo had become still
more striking,

His breakfast, which I found he rarely took before
three or four o'clock in the afternoon, was speedily
despatched, — his habit being to eat it standing, and
the meal in general consisting of one or two raw eggs,
a cup of tea without either milk or sugar, and a bit
of dry biscuit. Before we took our departure, he
presented me to the Countess Guiccioli, who was at
this time, as my readers already know, living under
the same roof with him at La Mira ; and who, with
a style of beauty singular in an Italian, as being
fair-complexioned and delicate, left an impression
upon my mind, during this our first short interview,
of intelligence and amiableness such as all that I have
since known or heard of her has but served to confirm.

We now started together, Lord Byron and myself,
in my little Milanese vehicle, for Fusina, — his
portly gondolier Tita, in a rich livery and most re-
dundant mustachios, having seated himself on the
front of the carriage, to the no small trial of its
strength, which had already once given way, even
under my own weight, between Verona and Vicenza.
On our arrival at Fusina, my noble friend, from his
familiarity with all the details of the place, had it in
his power to save me both trouble and expense in
the different arrangements relative to the custom-
house, remise, &c. ; and the good-natured assiduity

206 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

with which he bustled about in despatching these
matters, gave me an opportunity of observing, in his
use of the infirm limb, a much greater degree of
activity than I had ever before, except in sparring,
witnessed.

As we proceeded across the Lagoon in his gon-
dola, the sun was just setting, and it was an evening
such as Romance would have chosen for a first sight
of Venice, rising " with her tiara of bright towers"
above the wave ; while, to complete, as might be
imagined, the solemn interest of the scene, I beheld
it in company with him who had lately given a new
life to its glories, and sung of that fair City of the
Sea thus grandly : —

" I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs ;
A palace and a prison on each hand :
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand :
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O'er the far times, when many a subject land
Look'd to the winged lion's marble piles,

Where Venice sat in state, throned in her hundred isles."

But, whatever emotions the first sight of such a
scene might, under other circumstances, have in-
spired me with, the mood of mind in which I now
viewed it was altogether the very reverse of what
might have been expected. The exuberant gaiety of
my companion, and the recollections, — any thing but
romantic, — into which our conversation wandered,
put at once completely to flight all poetical and his-
torical associations ; and our course was, I am almost

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 207

ashamed to say, one of uninterrupted merriment and
laughter till we found ourselves at the steps of my
friend's palazzo on the Grand Canal. All that had
ever happened, of gay or ridiculous, during our
London life together, — his scrapes and mylectur-
ings, — our joint adventures with the Bores and
Blues, the two great enemies, as he always called
them, of London happiness, — our joyous nights to-
gether at Watier's, Kinnaird's, &c. and " that d — d
supper of Rancliffe's which ought to have been a
dinner," — all was passed rapidly in review between
us, and with a flow of humour and hilarity, on his
side, of which it would have been difficult, even for
persons far graver than I can pretend to be, not to
have caught the contagion.

He had all along expressed his determination that
I should not go to any hotel, but fix my quarters at
his house during the period of my stay ; and, had he
been residing there himself, such an arrangement
would have been all that I most desired. But, this
not being the case, a common hotel was, I thought,
a far readier resource ; and I therefore entreated
that he would allow me to order an apartment at the
Gran Bretagna, which had the reputation, I under-
stood, of being a comfortable hotel. This, however, he
would not hear of; and, as an inducement for me to
agree to his plan, said that, as long as I chose to stay,
though he should be obliged to return to La Mira in
the evenings, he would make it a point to come to
Venice every day and dine with me. As we now
turned into the dismal canal, and stopped before his
damp-looking mansion, my predilection for the Gran

208 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

Bretagna returned in full force ; and I again ven-
tured to hint that it would save an abundance of
trouble to let me proceed thither. But " No — no,"
he answered, — "I see you think you'll be very un-
comfortable here ; but you'll find that it is not quite
so bad as you expect."

As I groped my way after him through the dark
hall, he cried out, " Keep clear of the dog;" arid
before we had proceeded many paces farther, " Take
care, or that monkey will fly at you;" — a curious
proof, among many others, of his fidelity to all the
tastes of his youth, as it agrees perfectly with the
description of his life at Newstead, in 1809, and of
the sort of menagerie which his visiters had then to
encounter in their progress through his hall. Having
escaped these dangers, I followed him up the staircase
to the apartment destined for me. All this time he
had been despatching servants in various directions,
— one, to procure me a laquais de place ; another to
go in quest of Mr. Alexander Scott, to whom he
wished to give me in charge ; while a third was sent
to order his Segretario to come to him. " So, then,
you keep a Secretary ? " I said. " Yes," he answer-
ed, " a fellow who cant write* — but such are the
names these pompous people give to things."

When we had reached the door of the apartment
it was discovered to be locked, and, to all appear-
ance, had been so for some time, as the key could
not be found; — a circumstance which, to my

* The title of Segretario is sometimes given, as in this
to a head-servant or house-steward.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 209

English apprehension, naturally connected itself
with notions of damp and desolation, and I again
sighed inwardly for the Gran Bretagna. Impatient
at the delay of the key, my noble host, with one of
his humorous maledictions, gave a vigorous kick to
the door and burst it open ; on which we at once
entered into an apartment not only spacious and
elegant, but wearing an aspect of comfort and habit-
ableness which to a traveller's eye is as welcome as it
is rare. " Here," he said, in a voice whose every tone
spoke kindness and hospitality, — " these are the
rooms I use myself, and here I mean to establish
you."

He had ordered dinner from some Tratteria, and
while waiting its arrival — as well as that of Mr.
Alexander Scott, whom he had invited to join us —
we stood out on the balcony, in order that, before
the daylight was quite gone, I might have some
glimpses of the scene which the Canal presented.
Happening to remark, in looking up at the clouds,
which were still bright in the west, that " what had
struck me in Italian sunsets was that peculiar rosy

hue " I had hardly pronounced the word

« rosy," when Lord Byron, clapping his hand on my
mouth, said, with a laugh, " Come, d — n it, Tom,
don't be poetical." Among the few gondolas passing
at the time, there was one at some distance, in
which sat two gentlemen, who had the appearance
of being English; and, observing them to look our
way, Lord Byron putting his arms a-kimbo, said
with a sort of comic swagger, " Ah ! if you, John

VOL. IV, p

210 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

Bulls, knew who the two fellows are, now standing
up here, I think you would stare ! " — I risk men-
tioning these things, though aware how they may
be turned against myself, for the sake of the other-
wise indescribable traits of manner and character
which they convey. After a very agreeable dinner,
through which the jest, the story, and the laugh
were almost uninterruptedly carried on, our noble
host took leave of us to return to La Mira, while
Mr. Scott and I went to one of the theatres, to see
the Ottavia of Alfieri.

The ensuing evenings, during my stay, were pass-
ed much in the same manner, — my mornings being
devoted, under the kind superintendence of Mr.
Scott, to a hasty, and, I fear, unprofitable view of
the treasures of art with which Venice abounds. On
the subjects of painting and sculpture Lord Byron
has, in several of his letters, expressed strongly and,
as to most persons will appear, heretically his
opinions. In his want, however, of a due appreci-
ation of these arts, he but resembled some of his
great precursors in the field of poetry ; — both
Tasso and Milton, for example, having evinced so
little tendency to such tastes*, that, throughout the

* That this was the case with Milton is acknowledged by
Richardson, who admired both Milton and the Arts too
warmly to make such an admission upon any but valid
grounds. " He does not appear," says this writer, " to have
much regarded what was done with the pencil ; no, not even
when in Italy, in Rome, in the Vatican. Neither does it
seem Sculpture was much esteemed by him." After an autho-
rity like this, the theories of. Hayley and others, with respect

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 211

whole of their pages, there is not, I fear, one single
allusion to any of those great masters of the pencil
and chisel, whose works, nevertheless, both had
seen. That Lord Byron, though despising the im-
posture and jargon with which the worship of the
Arts is, like other worships, clogged and mystified,
felt deeply, more especially in sculpture, whatever
imaged forth true grace and energy, appears from
passages of his poetry, which are in every body's
memory, and not a line of which but thrills alive
with a sense of grandeur and beauty such as it
never entered into the capacity of a mere connois-
seur even to conceive.

In reference to this subject, as we were convers-
ing one day after dinner about the various collec-
tions I had visited that morning, on my saying that
fearful as I was, at all times, of praising any picture,
lest I should draw upon myself the connoisseur's
sneer for my pains, I would yet, to him, venture to

own that I had seen a picture at Milan which

" The Hagar ! " he exclaimed, eagerly interrupting
me ; and it was in fact this very picture I was
about to mention as having wakened in me, by
the truth of its expression, more real emotion than

to the impressions left upon Milton's mind by the works of
art he had seen in Italy, are hardly worth a thought.

Though it may be conceded that Dante was an admirer of
the Arts, his recommendation of the Apocalypse to Giotto, as
a source of subjects for the pencil, shows, at least, what indif-
ferent judges poets are, in general, of the sort of fancies fittest
to be embodied by the painter.

P 2

NOTICES OF THE 1819.

any I had yet seen among the chefs-d'oeuvre of
Venice. It was with no small degree of pride and
pleasure I now discovered that my noble friend had
felt equally with myself the affecting mixture of sor-
row and reproach with which the woman's eyes tell
the whole story in that picture.

On the second evening of my stay, Lord Byron
having, as before, left us for La Mira, I most will-
ingly accepted the offer of Mr. Scott to introduce
me to the conversazioni of the two celebrated ladies,
with whose names, as leaders of Venetian fashion,
the tourists to Italy have made every body acquaint-
ed. To the Countess A * *'s parties Lord Byron
had chiefly confined himself during the first winter
he passed at Venice ; but the tone of conversation
at these small meetings being much too learned for
his tastes, he was induced, the following year, to
discontinue his attendance at them, and chose, in
preference, the less erudite, but more easy, society
of the Countess B * *. Of the sort of learning some-
times displayed by the Cl blue" visitants at Madame
A * *'s, a circumstance mentioned by the noble
poet himself may afford some idea. The conversation
happening to turn, one evening, upon the statue of
Washington, by Canova, which had been just ship-
ped off for the United States, Madame A * *,
who was then engaged in compiling a Description
llaisonnee of Canova's works, and was anxious for
information respecting the subject of this statue, re-
quested that some of her learned guests would detail
to her all they knew of him. This task a Signor * *
(author of a book on Geography and Statistics) un-

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 213

dertook to perform, and, after some other equally
sage and authentic details, concluded by informing
her that "Washington was killed in a duel by
Burke." — " What," exclaimed Lord Byron, as he
stood biting his lips with impatience during this con-
versation, " what, in the name of folly, are you all
thinking of?" — for he now recollected the famous
duel between Hamilton and Colonel Burr, whom, it
was evident, this learned worthy had confounded
with Washington and Burke !

In addition to the motives easily conceivable for
exchanging such a society for one that offered, at
least, repose from such erudite efforts, there was also
another cause more immediately leading to the dis-
continuance of his visits to Madame A * *. This
lady, who has been sometimes honoured with the
title of " The De Stael of Italy," had written a book
called " Portraits," containing sketches of the cha-
racters of various persons of note ; and it being her
intention to introduce Lord Byron into this assem-
blage, she had it intimated to his Lordship that an
article in which his portraiture had been attempted
was to appear in a new edition she was about to pub-
lish of her work. It was expected, of course, that
this intimation would awaken in him some desire to
see the sketch ; but, on the contrary, he was provok-
ing enough not to manifest the least symptoms of
curiosity. Again and again was the same hint, with
as little success, conveyed ; till, at length, on finding
that no impression could be produced in this manner,
a direct offer was made, in Madame A * *'s own
name, to submit the article to his perusal. He
p 3

214 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

could now contain himself no longer. With more
sincerity than politeness, he returned for answer to
the lady, that he was by no means ambitious of ap-
pearing in her work ; that, from the shortness, as
well as the distant nature of their acquaintance, it
was impossible she could have qualified herself to
be his portrait-painter, and that, in short, she could
not oblige him more than by committing the article
to the flames.

Whether the tribute thus unceremoniously treated
ever met the eyes of Lord Byron, I know not ; but
he could hardly, I think, had he seen it, have escaped
a slight touch of remorse at having thus spurned
from him a portrait drawn in no unfriendly spirit,
and, though affectedly expressed, seizing some of the
less obvious features of his character, — as, for in-
stance, that diffidence so little to be expected from
a career like his, with the discriminating niceness of
a female hand. The following are extracts from
this Portrait : —

" < Toi, dont le monde encore ignore le vrai nom,
Esprit rnyst^rieux, Mortel, Ange, ou D£mon,
Qui que tu sois, Byron, bon ou fatal ge"nie,
J'aime de tes conceits la sauvage harmonie.'

LAMARTINE.

" It would be to little purpose to dwell upon the
mere beauty of a countenance in which the expres-
sion of an extraordinary mind was so conspicuous.
What serenity was seated on the forehead, adorned
with the finest chestnut hair, light, curling, and dis-
posed with such art, that the art was hidden in the
imitation of most pleasing nature ! WThat varied

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 215

expression in his eyes ! They were of the azure
colour of the heavens, from which they seemed to
derive their origin. His teeth, in form, in colour,
in transparency, resembled pearls ; but his cheeks
were too delicately tinged with the hue of the pale
rose. His neck, which he was in the habit of keep-
ing uncovered as much as the usages of society per-
mitted, seemed to have been formed in a mould, and
was very white. His hands were as beautiful as if
they had been the works of art. His figure left nothing
to be desired, particularly by those who found rather
a grace than a defect in a certain light and gentle
undulation of the person when he entered a room,
and of which you hardly felt tempted to enquire
the cause. Indeed it was scarcely perceptible, —
the clothes he wore were so long.

" He was never seen to walk through the streets
of Venice, nor along the pleasant banks of the Brenta,
where he spent some weeks of the summer ; and
there are some who assert that he has never seen,
excepting from a window, the wonders of the * Piazza
di San Marco ; ' — so powerful in him was the desire
of not showing himself to be deformed in any part
of his person. I, however, believe that he has often
gazed on those wonders, but in the late and solitary
hour, when the stupendous edifices which sur-
rounded him, illuminated by the soft and placid
light of the moon, appeared a thousand times more
lovely.

" His face appeared tranquil like the ocean on a
fine spring morning ; but, like it, in an instant be-
came changed into the tempestuous and terrible, if
p 4

216 NOTICES OF THE

1819.

a passion, (a passion did I say ?) a thought, a word,
occurred to disturb his mind. His eyes then lost
all their sweetness, and sparkled so that it became
difficult to look on them. So rapid a change would
not have been thought possible ; but it was impos-
sible to avoid acknowledging that the natural state
of his mind was the tempestuous.

" What delighted him greatly one day annoyed
him the next ; and whenever he appeared constant
in the practice of any habits, it arose merely from
the indifference, not to say contempt, in which he
held them all : whatever they might be, they were
not worthy that he should occupy his thoughts with
them. His heart was highly sensitive, and suffered
itself to be governed in an extraordinary degree by
sympathy ; but his imagination carried him away,
and spoiled every thing. He believed in presages,
and delighted in the recollection that he held this
belief in common with Napoleon. It appeared that,
in proportion as his intellectual education was culti-
vated, his moral education was neglected, and that
he never suffered himself to know or observe other
restraints than those imposed by his inclinations.
Nevertheless, who could believe that he had a con-
stant, and almost infantine timidity, of which the
evidences were so apparent as to render its existence
indisputable, notwithstanding the difficulty experi-
enced in associating with Lord Byron a sentiment
which had the appearance of modesty? Conscious
as he was that, wherever he presented himself, all
eyes were fixed on him, and all lips, particularly
those of the women, were opened to say, * There he

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 217

is, that is Lord Byron,' — he necessarily found him-
self in the situation of an actor obliged to sustain a
character, and to render an account, not to others
(for about them he gave himself no concern), but to
himself, of his every action and word. This occa-
sioned him a feeling of uneasiness which was obvious
to every one.

" He remarked on a certain subject (which in 1814
was the topic of universal discourse) that * the world
was worth neither the trouble taken in its conquest,
nor the regret felt at its loss,' which saying (if the
worth of an expression could ever equal that of many
and great actions) would almost show the thoughts
and feelings of Lord Byron to be more stupendous
and unmeasured than those of him respecting whom
he spoke.

" His gymnastic exercises were sometimes violent,
and at others almost nothing. His body, like his
spirit, readily accommodated itself to all his inclina-
tions. During an entire winter, he went out every
morning alone to row himself to the island of Arme-
nians, (a small island situated in the midst of a tran-
quil lake, and distant from Venice about half a
league,) to enjoy the society of those learned and
hospitable monks, and to learn their difficult lan-
guage ; and, in the evening, entering again into his
gondola, he went, but only for a couple of hours,
into company. A second winter, whenever the
water of the lake was violently agitated, he was
observed to cross it, and landing on the nearest terra,
firma, to fatigue at least two horses with riding.

" No one ever heard him utter a word of French,

218 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

although he was perfectly conversant with that lan-
guage. He hated the nation and its modern litera-
ture; in like manner, he held the modern Italian
literature in contempt, and said it possessed but one
living author, — a restriction which I know not whe-
ther to term ridiculous, or false and injurious. His
voice was sufficiently sweet and flexible. He spoke
with much suavity, if not contradicted, but rather
addressed himself to his neighbour than to the entire
company.

" Very little food sufficed him ; and he preferred fish
to flesh for this extraordinary reason, that the latter,
he said, rendered him ferocious. He disliked seeing
women eat ; and the cause of this extraordinary an-
tipathy must be sought in the dread he always had,
that the notion he loved to cherish of their perfec-
tion and almost divine nature might be disturbed.
Having always been governed by them, it would
seem that his very self-love was pleased to take
refuge in the idea of their excellence, — a sentiment
which he knew how (God knows how) to reconcile
with the contempt in which, shortly afterwards, almost
with the appearance of satisfaction, he seemed to
hold them. But contradictions ought not to surprise
us in characters like Lord Byron's ; and then, who
does not know that the slave holds in detestation
his ruler ?

" Lord Byron disliked his countrymen, but only
because he knew that his morals were held in con-
tempt by them. The English, themselves rigid
observers of family duties, could not pardon him the
neglect of his, nor his trampling on principles; there-

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 219

fore neither did he like being presented to them, nor
did they, especially when they had their wives with
them, like to cultivate his acquaintance. Still there
was a strong desire in all of them to see him, and
the women in particular, who did not dare to look
at him but by stealth, said in an under voice, « What
a pity it is ! ' If, however, any of his compatriots
of exalted rank and of high reputation came forward
to treat him with courtesy, he showed himself
obviously flattered by it, and was greatly pleased
with such association. It seemed that to the wound
which remained always open in his ulcerated heart
such soothing attentions were as drops of healing
balm, which comforted him.

" Speaking of his marriage, — a delicate subject,
but one still agreeable to him, if it was treated in a
friendly voice, — he was greatly moved, and said it
had been the innocent cause of all his errors and all
his griefs. Of his wife he spoke with much respect
and affection. He said she was an illustrious lady,
distinguished for the qualities of her heart and un-
derstanding, and that all the fault of their cruel
separation lay with himself. Now, was such lan-
guage dictated by justice or by vanity ? Does it
not bring to mind the saying of Julius, that the wife
of Caesar must not even be suspected ? What vanity
in that saying of Caesar I In fact, if it had not been
from vanity, Lord Byron would have admitted this
to no one. Of his young daughter, his dear Ada,
he spoke with great tenderness, and seemed to be
pleased at the great sacrifice he had made in leaving
her to comfort her mother. The intense hatred he

220 NOTICES OF THE 1819

bore his mother-in-law, and a sort of Euryclea of
Lady Byron, two women to whose influence he, in a
great measure, attributed her estrangement from him,
—demonstrated clearly how painful the separation
was to him, notwithstanding some bitter pleasantries
which occasionally occur in his writings against her
also, dictated rather by rancour than by indifference.'*

From the time of his misunderstanding with
Madame A * * *, the visits of the noble poet were
transferred to the house of the other great rallying
point of Venetian society, Madame B * * *, — a lady
in whose manners, though she had long ceased to
be young, there still lingered much of that attaching
charm, which a youth passed in successful efforts to
please seldom fails to leave behind. That those
powers of pleasing, too, were not yet gone, the
fidelity of, at least, one devoted admirer testified ;
nor is she supposed to have thought it impossible
that Lord Byron himself might yet be linked on at
the end of that long chain of lovers, which had,
through so many years, graced the triumphs of her
beauty. If, however, there could have been, in any
case, the slightest chance of such a conquest, she
had herself completely frustrated it by introducing
her distinguished visiter to Madame Guiccioli, —
a step by which she at last lost, too, even the orna-
ment of his presence at her parties, as in conse-
quence of some slighting conduct, on her part,
towards his " Dama," he discontinued his attendance
at her evening assemblies, and at the time of my
visit to Venice had given up society altogether.

J 819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 221

I could soon collect, from the tone held respecting
his conduct at Madame B * * *'s, how subversive of
all the morality of intrigue they considered the late
step of which he had been guilty in withdrawing his
acknowledged " Arnica" from the protection of her
husband, and placing her, at once, under the same
roof with himself. " You must really (said the
hostess herself to me) scold your friend ; — till this
unfortunate affair, he conducted himself so well ! " —
a eulogy on his previous moral conduct which, when
I reported it the following day to my noble host,
provoked at once a smile and sigh from his lips.

The chief subject of our conversation, when alone,
was his marriage, and the load of obloquy which it
had brought upon him. He was most anxious to
know the worst that had been alleged of his con-
duct ; and as this was our first opportunity of speak-
ing together on the subject, I did not hesitate to
put his candour most searchingly to the proof, not
only by enumerating the various charges I had
heard brought against him by others, but by specify-
ing such portions of these charges as I had been
inclined to think not incredible myself. To all this
he listened with patience, and answered with the
most unhesitating frankness, laughing to scorn the
tales of unmanly outrage related of him, but, at the
same time, acknowledging that there had been in his
conduct but too much to blame and regret, and,
stating one or two occasions, during his domestic life,
when he had been irritated into letting " the breath
of bitter words" escape him, — words, rather those
of the unquiet spirit that possessed him than his

222 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

own, and which he now evidently remembered with
a degree of remorse and pain which might well have
entitled them to be forgotten by others.

It was, at the same time, manifest, that, whatever
admissions he might be inclined to make respecting
his own delinquencies, the inordinate measure of the
punishment dealt out to him had sunk deeply into
his mind, and, with the usual effect of such injustice,
drove him also to be unjust himself; — so much so,
indeed, as to impute to the quarter, to which he now
traced all his ill fate, a feeling of fixed hostility to
himself, which would not rest, he thought, even at
his grave, but continue to persecute his memory as
it was now embittering his life. So strong was this
impression upon him, that during one of our few
intervals of seriousness, he conjured me, by our
friendship, if, as he both felt and hoped, I should
survive him, not to let unmerited censure settle upon
his name, but. while I surrendered him up to con-
demnation, where he deserved it, to vindicate him
where aspersed.

How groundless and wrongful were these appre-
hensions, the early death which he so often predicted
and sighed for has enabled us, unfortunately but too
soon, to testify. So far from having to defend him
against any such assailants, an unworthy voice or
two, from persons more injurious as friends than as
enemies, is all that I find raised in hostility to his
name ; while by none, I am inclined to think, would
a generous amnesty over his grave be more readily
and cordially concurred in than by her, among whose
numerous virtues a forgiving charity towards himself

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

was the only one to which she had not yet taught
him to render justice.

I have already had occasion to remark, in another
part of this work, that with persons who, like Lord
Byron, live centred in their own tremulous web of
sensitiveness, those friends of whom they see least,
and who, therefore, least frequently come in collision
with them in those every-day realities from which
such natures shrink so morbidly, have proportion-
ately a greater chance of retaining a hold on their
affections. There is, however, in long absence from
persons of this temperament, another description of
risk hardly less, perhaps, to be dreaded. If the
station a friend holds in their hearts is, in near
intercourse with them, in danger from their sensi-
tiveness, it is almost equally, perhaps, at the mercy
of their too active imaginations during absence.
On this very point, I recollect once expressing my
apprehensions to Lord Byron, in a passage of a
letter addressed to him but a short time before his
death, of which the following is, as nearly as I can
recall it, the substance : — " When with you, I feel
sure of you ; but, at a distance, one is often a little
afraid of being made the victim, all of a sudden, of
some of those fanciful suspicions, which, like meteoric
stones, generate themselves (God knows how) in the
upper regions of your imagination, and come clatter-
ing down upon our heads, some fine sunny day, when
we are least expecting such an invasion."

In writing thus to him, I had more particularly in
recollection a fancy of this kind respecting myself,
which he had, not long before my present visit to

224? NOTICES OF THE 1819.

him at Venice, taken into his head. In a ludicrous,
and now, perhaps, forgotten publication of mine,
giving an account of the adventures of an English
family in Paris, there had occurred the following
description of the chief hero of the tale : —

" A fine, sallow, sublime sort of Werter-faced man,
With mustachios which gave (what we read of so oft)
The dear Corsair expression, half savage, half soft, —
As hyaenas in love may be fancied to look, or
A something between Abelard and old Blucher."

On seeing this doggrel, my noble friend, — as I
might, indeed, with a little more thought, have an-
ticipated,— conceived the notion that I meant to
throw ridicule on his whole race of poetic heroes,
and accordingly, as I learned from persons then in
frequent intercourse with him, flew out into one of
his fits of half humorous rage against me. This he
now confessed himself, and, in laughing over the
circumstance with me, owned that he had even
gone so far as, in his first moments of wrath, to
contemplate some little retaliation for this perfidious
hit at his heroes. " But when I recollected," said
he, " what pleasure it would give the whole tribe of
blockheads and blues to see you and me turning
out against each other, I gave up the idea." He
was, indeed, a striking instance of what may be
almost invariably observed, that they who best know
how to wield the weapon of ridicule themselves, are
the most alive to its power in the hands of others.
I remember, one day, — in the year 1813, I think,
— as we were conversing together about critics and

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 225

their influence on the public. " For my part," he
exclaimed, " I don't care what they say of me, so
they don't quiz me." — " Oh, you need not fear
that," — I answered, with something, perhaps, of a
half suppressed smile on my features, — " nobody
could quiz you? — " You could, you villain !" he re-
plied, clenching his hand at me, and looking, at the
same time, with comic earnestness into my face.

Before I proceed any farther with my own recol-
lections, I shall here take the opportunity of extract-
ing some curious particulars respecting the habits
and mode of life of my friend while at Venice, from
an account obligingly furnished me by a gentleman
who long resided in that city, and who, during the
greater part of Lord Byron's stay, lived on terms of
the most friendly intimacy with him.

" I have often lamented that I kept no notes of
his observations during our rides and aquatic ex*
cursions. Nothing could exceed the vivacity and
variety of his conversation, or the cheerfulness of
his manner. His remarks on the surrounding ob-
jects were always original : and most particularly
striking was the quickness with which he availed
himself of every circumstance, however trifling in
itself, and such as would have escaped the notice of
almost any other person, to carry his point in such
arguments as we might chance to be engaged in.
He was feelingly alive to the beauties of nature,
and took great interest in any observations, which,
as a dabbler in the arts, I ventured to make upon
the effects of light and shadow, or the changes pro-

VOL. IV. Q

226 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

duced in the colour of objects by every variation in
the atmosphere.

" The spot where we usually mounted our horses
had been a Jewish cemetery; but the French, during
their occupation of Venice, had thrown down the
enclosures, and levelled all the tombstones with the
ground, in order that they might not interfere with
the fortifications upon the Lido, under the guns of
which it was situated. To this place, as it was known
to be that where he alighted from his gondola and
met his horses, the curious amongst our country
people, who were anxious to obtain a glimpse of
him, used to resort ; and it was amusing in the
extreme to witness the excessive coolness with
which ladies, as well as gentlemen, would advance
within a very few paces of him, eyeing him, some
with their glasses, as they would have done a statue
in a museum, or the wild beasts at Exeter 'Change.
However flattering this might be to a man's vanity,
Lord Byron, though he bore it very patiently, ex-
pressed himself, as I believe he really was, exces-
sively annoyed at it.

" I have said that our usual ride was along the
sea-shore, and that the spot where we took horse,
and of course dismounted, had been a cemetery. It
will readily be believed, that some caution was ne-
cessary in riding over the broken tombstones, and
that it was altogether an awkward place for horses
to pass. As the length of our ride was not very
great, scarcely more than six miles in all, we seldom
rode fast, that we might at least prolong its dura-
tion ; and enjoy as much as possible the refreshing

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 227

air of the Adriatic. One day, as we were leisurely
returning homewards, Lord Byron, all at once, and
without saying any thing to me, set spurs to his
horse and started off at full gallop, making the
greatest haste he could to get to his gondola. I
could not conceive what fit had seized him, and had
some difficulty in keeping even within a reasonable
distance of him, while I looked around me to dis-
cover, if I were able, what could be the cause of
his unusual precipitation. At length I perceived at
some distance two or three gentlemen, who were
running along the opposite side of the island nearest
the Lagoon, parallel with him, towards his gondola,
hoping to get there in time to see him alight ; and
a race actually took place between them, he en-
deavouring to outstrip them. In this he, in fact,
succeeded, and, throwing himself quickly from his
horse, leapt into his gondola, of which he hastily
closed the blinds, ensconcing himself in a corner so
as not to be seen. For my own part, not choosing
to risk my neck over the ground I have spoken of, I
followed more leisurely as soon as I came amongst
the gravestones, but got to the place of embarkation
just at the same moment with my curious country-
men, and in time to witness their disappointment at
having had their run for nothing. I found him ex-
ulting in his success in outstripping them. He
expressed in strong terms his annoyance at what he
called their impertinence, whilst I could not but
laugh at his impatience, as well as at the mortifi-
cation of the unfortunate pedestrians, whose eager-
ness to see him, I said, was, in my opinion, highly
Q 2

228 . NOTICES OF THE 1819.

flattering to him. That, he replied, depended on
the feeling with which they came ; and he had not
the vanity to believe that they were influenced by
any admiration of his character or of his abilities,
but that they were impelled merely by idle curio-
sity. Whether it was so or not, I cannot help
thinking that if they had been of the other sex, he
would not have been so eager to escape from their
observation, as in that case he would have repaid
them glance for glance.

" The curiosity that was expressed by all classes
of travellers to see him, and the eagerness with
which they endeavoured to pick up any anecdotes
of his mode of life, were carried to a length which
will hardly be credited. It formed the chief subject
of their enquiries of the gondoliers who conveyed
them from terra firma to the floating city; and these
people, who are generally loquacious, were not at all
backward in administering to the taste and humours
of their passengers, relating to them the most extra-
vagant and often unfounded stories. They took care
to point out the house where he lived, and to give
such hints of his movements as might afford them
an opportunity of seeing him. Many of the English
visiters, under pretext of seeing his house, in which
there were no paintings of any consequence, nor,
besides himself, any thing worthy of notice, contrived
to obtain admittance through the cupidity of his ser-
vants, and with the most barefaced impudence forced
their way even into his bedroom, in the hopes of
seeing him. Hence arose, in a great measure, his

V
1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 229

bitterness towards them, which he has expressed in
a note to one of his poems, on the occasion of some
unfounded remark made upon him by an anonymous
traveller in Italy ; and it certainly appears well cal-
culated to foster that cynicism which prevails in his
latter works more particularly, and which, as well as
the misanthropical expressions that occur in those
which first raised his reputation, I do not believe to
have been his natural feeling. Of this I am certain,
that I never witnessed greater kindness than in Lord
Byron.

" The inmates of his family were all extremely
attached to him, and would have endured any thing
on his account. He was indeed culpably lenient to
them ; for even when instances occurred of their
neglecting their duty, or taking an undue advantage
of his good-nature, he rather bantered than spoke
seriously to them upon it, and could not bring him-
self to discharge them, even when he had threatened
to do so. An instance occurred within my knowledge
of his unwillingness to act harshly towards a trades-
man whom he had materially assisted, not only by
lending him money, but by forwarding his interest in
every way that he could. Notwithstanding repeated
acts of kindness on Lord Byron's part, this man
robbed and cheated him in the most barefaced man-
ner ; and when at length Lord Byron was induced to
sue him at law for the recovery of his money, the
only punishment he inflicted upon him, when sen-
tence against him was passed, was to put him in pri-
son for one week, and then to let him out again,
Q 3

230 NOTICES OF THE

1819.

although his debtor had subjected him to a consider-
able additional expense, by dragging him into all the
different courts of appeal, and that he never at last
recovered one halfpenny of the money owed to him.
Upon this subject he writes to me from Ravenna,
< If * * is in (prison), let him out ; if out, put him in
for a week, merely for a lesson, and give him a good
lecture/

" He was also ever ready to assist the distressed,
and he was most unostentatious in his charities: for
besides considerable sums which he gave away to
applicants at his own house, he contributed largely
by weekly and monthly allowances to persons whom
he had never seen, and who, as the money reached
them by other hands, did not even know who was
their benefactor. One or two instances might be
adduced where his charity certainly bore an appear-
ance of ostentation ; one particularly, when he sent
fifty louis d'or to a poor printer whose house had
been burnt to the ground, and all his property de-
stroyed ; but even this was not unattended with ad-
vantage ; for it in a manner compelled the Austrian
authorities to do something for the poor sufferer,
which I have no hesitation in saying they would
not have done otherwise ; and I attribute it entirely
to the publicity of his donation, that they allowed
the man the use of an unoccupied house belonging
to the government until he could rebuild his own,
or re-establish his business elsewhere. Other in-
stances might be perhaps discovered where his
liberalities proceeded from selfish, and not very

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 231

worthy motives* ; but these are rare, and it would
be unjust in the extreme to assume them as proofs
of his character."

It has been already mentioned that, in writing to
my noble friend to announce my coming, I had ex-
pressed a hope that he would be able to go on with
me to Rome ; and I had the gratification of finding,
on my arrival, that he was fully prepared to enter
into this plan. On becoming acquainted, however,
with all the details of his present situation, I so far
sacrificed my own wishes and pleasure as to advise
strongly that he should remain at La Mira. In the
first place, I saw reason to apprehend that his leav-
ing Madame Guiccioli at this crisis might be the
means of drawing upon him the suspicion of neglect-
ing, if not actually deserting, a young person who
had just sacrificed so much to her devotion for him,
and whose position, at this moment, between the
Count and Lord Byron, it required all the generous
prudence of the latter to shield from shame or fall.
There had just occurred too, as it appeared to me,
a most favourable opening for the retrieval of, at
least, the imprudent part of the transaction, by re-
placing the lady instantly under her husband's pro-
tection, and thus enabling her still to retain that
station in society which, in such society, nothing
but such imprudence could have endangered.

This latter hope had been suggested by a letter he

* The writer here, no doubt, alludes to such questionable
liberalities as those exercised towards the husbands of his tw0
favourites, Madame S * * and the Fornarina.
Q 4

232 , NOTICES OF THE 1819,

one day showed me, (as we were dining together alone,
at the well-known Pellegrino,) which had that morn-
ing been received by the Contessa from her husband,
and the chief object of which was — not to express
any censure of her conduct, but to suggest that she
should prevail upon her noble admirer to transfer
into his keeping a sum of 1000/., which was then
lying, if I remember right, in the hands of Lord
Byron's banker at Ravenna, but which the worthy
Count professed to think would be more advantage-
ously placed in his own. Security, the writer added,
would be given, and five per cent, interest allowed ;
as to accept of the sum on any other terms he should
hold to be an " avvilimento" to him. Though, as
regarded the lady herself, who has since proved, by
a most noble sacrifice, how perfectly disinterested
were her feelings throughout*, this, trait of so wholly

* The circumstance here alluded to may be most clearly,
perhaps, communicated to my readers through the medium of
the following extract from a letter which Mr. Barry (the friend
and banker of Lord Byron) did me the favour of addressing
to me, soon after his Lordship's death : — " When Lord Byron
went to Greece, he gave me orders to advance money to
Madame G * * ; but that lady would never consent to receive
any. His Lordship had also told me that he meant to leave his
will in my hands, and that there would be a bequest in it of
10,000/. to Madame G * *. He mentioned this circumstance
also to Lord Blessington. When the melancholy news of his
death reached me, I took for granted that this will would be
found among the sealed papers he had left with me ; but there
iras no such instrument. I immediately then wrote to
Madame G * *, enquiring if she knew any thing concerning it,
and mentioning, at the same time, what his Lordship had said
fts to the legacy. To this the lady replied, that he had fre-

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

233

opposite a character in her lord must have still
further increased her disgust at returning to him,
yet so important did it seem, as well for her friend's
sake as her own, to retrace, while there was yet
time, their last imprudent step, that even the sacri-
fice of this sum, which I saw would materially facili-
tate such an arrangement, did not appear to me by
any means too high a price to pay for it. On this
point, however, my noble friend entirely differed
with me ; and nothing could be more humorous
and amusing than the manner in which, in his
newly assumed character of a lover of money, he
dilated on the many virtues of a thousand pounds,
and his determination not to part with a single one
of them to Count Guiccioli. Of his confidence, too,
in his own power of extricating himself from this
difficulty he spoke with equal gaiety and humour ;
and Mr. Scott, who joined our party after dinner,
having taken the same view of the subject as I did,
he laid a wager of two sequins with that gentleman,
that, without any such disbursement, he would yet
bring all right again, and " save the lady and the
money too."

quently spoken to her on the same subject, but that she had
always cut the conversation short, as it was a topic she by no
means liked to hear him speak upon. In addition, she ex-
pressed a wish that no such will as I had mentioned would be
found ; as her circumstances were already sufficiently inde-
pendent, and the world might put a wrong construction on her
attachment, should it appear that her fortunes were, in any
degree, bettered by it."

234- NOTICES OJF THE 1819.

It is indeed, certain, that he had at this time
taken up the whim (for it hardly deserves a more
serious name) of minute and constant watchfulness
over his expenditure ; and, as most usually happens,
it was with the increase of his means that this in-
creased sense of the value of money came. The
first symptom I saw of this new fancy of his was
the exceeding joy which he manifested on my pre-
senting to him a rouleau of twenty Napoleons, which
Lord K * * d, to whom he had, on some occasion,
lent that sum, had intrusted me with, at Milan, to
deliver into his hands. With the most joyous and
diverting eagerness, he tore open the paper, and, in
counting over the sum, stopped frequently to con-
gratulate himself on the recovery of it.

Of his household frugalities I speak but on the
authority of others ; but it is not difficult to conceive
that, with a restless spirit like his, which delighted
always in having something to contend with, and
which, but a short time before, " for want," as he
said, " of something craggy to break upon," had
tortured itself with the study of the Armenian
language, he should, in default of all better excite-
ment, find a sort of stir and amusement in the task
of contesting, inch by inch, every encroachment of
expense, and endeavouring to suppress what he
himself calls

" That climax of all earthly ills,
The inflammation of our weekly bills. "

In truth, his constant recurrence to the praise
of avarice in Don Juan, and the humorous zest with

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

which he delights to dwell on it, shows how new-
fangled, as well as how far from serious, was his
adoption of this " good old-gentlemanly vice." In
the same spirit he had, a short time before my arrival
at Venice, established a hoarding-box, with a slit in
the lid, into which he occasionally put sequins, and,
at stated periods, opened it to contemplate his
treasures. His own ascetic style of living enabled
him, as far as himself was concerned, to gratify this
taste for economy in no ordinary degree, — his
daily bill of fare, when the Margarita was his com-
panion, consisting, I have been assured, of but four
beccafichi, of which the Fornarina eat three, leaving
even him hungry.

That his parsimony, however (if this new phasis
of his ever- shifting character is to be called by such
a name), was very far from being of that kind which
Bacon condemns, as " withholding men from works
of liberality," is apparent from all that is known of
his munificence, at this very period, — some par-
ticulars of which, from a most authentic source,
have just been cited, proving amply that while, for
the indulgence of a whim, he kept one hand closed,
he gave free course to his generous nature by dis-
pensing lavishly from the other. It should be re-
membered, too, that as long as money shall continue
to be one of the great sources of power, so long will
they who seek influence over their fellow-men attach
value to it as an instrument ; and the more lowly
they are inclined to estimate the disinterestedness
of the human heart, the more available and precious
will they consider the talisman that gives such

236 NOTICES OF THE J819

power over it. Hence, certainly, it is not among
those who have thought highest of mankind that
the disposition to avarice has most generally dis-
played itself. In Swift the love of money was strong
and avowed ; and to Voltaire the same propensity
was also frequently imputed, — on about as sufficient
grounds, perhaps, as to Lord Byron.

On the day preceding that of my departure from
Venice, my noble host, on arriving from La Mira to
dinner, told me, with all the glee of a schoolboy who
had been just granted a holiday, that, as this was my
last evening, the Contessa had given him leave to
" make a night of it," and that accordingly he would
not only accompany me to the opera, but we should
sup together at some cafe (as in the old times) after-
wards. Observing a volume in his gondola, with a
number of paper marks between the leaves, I en-
quired of him what it was ? — " Only a book," he
answered, " from which I am trying to crib, as I do
wherever I can * ; — and that's the way I get the
character of an original poet." On taking it up and
looking into it, I exclaimed, " Ah, my old friend,
Agathon!"f — "What!" he cried, archly, "you
have been beforehand with me there, have you ? "

Though in imputing to himself premeditated
plagiarism, he was, of course, but jesting, it was, I
am inclined to think, his practice, when engaged in
the composition of any work, to excite thus his vein

* This will remind the reader of Moliere's avowal in speaking
of wit : — « C'est mon bien, et je le prends partout ou je le
trouve."

f The History of Agathon, by Wieland.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 237

by the perusal of others, on the same subject or
plan, from which the slightest hint caught by his
imagination, as he read, was sufficient to kindle
there such a train of thought as, but for that spark,
had never been awakened, and of which he himself
soon forgot the source. In the present instance, the
inspiration he sought was of no very elevating nature,
— the anti-spiritual doctrines of the Sophist in this
Romance * being what chiefly, I suspect, attracted
his attention to its pages, as not unlikely to supply
him with fresh argument and sarcasm for those de-
preciating views of human nature and its destiny,

• Between Wieland, the author of this Romance, and Lord
Byron, may be observed some of those generic points of re-
semblance which it is so interesting to trace in the characters
of men of genius. The German poet, it is said, never perused
any work that made a strong impression upon him, without
being stimulated to commence one, himself, on the same topic
and plan ; and in Lord Byron the imitative principle was
almost equally active, — there being few of his poems that
might not, in the same manner, be traced to the strong impulse
given to his imagination by the perusal of some work that had
just before interested him. In the history, too, of their lives
and feelings, there was a strange and painful coincidence, —
the revolution that took place in all Wieland's opinions, from
the Platonism and romance of his youthful days, to the ma-
terial and Epicurean doctrines that pervaded all his maturer
works, being chiefly, it is supposed, brought about by the
shock his heart had received from a disappointment of its
affections in early life. Speaking of the illusion of this first,
passion, in one of his letters, he says, — " It is one for which
no joys, no honours, no gifts of fortune, not even wisdom itself
can afford an equivalent, and which, when it has once vanished,
returns no more."

238 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

which he was now, with all the wantonness of un-
bounded genius, enforcing in Don Juan.

Of this work he was, at the time of my visit to
him, writing the third Canto, and before dinner, one
day, read me two or three hundred lines of it; —
beginning with the stanzas " Oh Wellington," &c.
which at that time formed the opening of this third
Canto, but were afterwards reserved for the com-
mencement of the ninth. My opinion of the poem,
both as regarded its talent and its mischief, he had
already been made acquainted with, from my having
been one of those, — his Committee, as he called us,
— to whom, at his own desire, the manuscript of
the two first Cantos had been submitted, and who,
as the reader has seen, angered him not a little by
deprecating the publication of it. In a letter which
I, at that time, wrote to him on the subject, after
praising the exquisite beauty of the scenes between
Juan and Haidee, I ventured to say, " Is it not odd
that the same licence which, in your early Satire,
you blamed me for being guilty of on the borders of
my twentieth year, you are now yourself (with
infinitely greater power, and therefore infinitely
greater mischief) indulging in after thirty ! "

Though I now found him, in full defiance of such
remonstrances, proceeding with this work, he had
yet, as his own letters prove, been so far influenced
by the general outcry against his poem, as to feel
the zeal and zest with which he had commenced it
considerably abated, — so much so, as to render,
ultimately, in his own opinion, the third and fourth
Cantos much inferior in spirit to the two first. So

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 239

sensitive, indeed, — in addition to his usual abun-
dance of this quality, — did he, at length, grow on
the subject, that when Mr. W. Bankes, who suc-
ceeded me, as his visiter, happened to tell him, one
day, that he had heard a Mr. Saunders (or some
such name), then resident at Venice, declare that,
in his opinion, " Don Juan was all Grub Street,"
such an effect had this disparaging speech upon his
mind, (though coming from a person who, as he
himself would have it, was " nothing but a d — d salt-
fish seller,") that, for some time after, by his own
confession to Mr. Bankes, he could not bring himself
to write another line of the poem ; and, one morn-
ing, opening a drawer where the neglected manu-
script lay, he said to his friend, " Look here — this
is all Mr. Saunders's l Grub Street/ "

To return, however, to the details of our last
evening together at Venice. After a dinner with
Mr. Scott at the Pellegrino, we all went, rather late,
to the opera, where the principal part in the Bacca-
nali di Roma was represented by a female singer,
whose chief claim to reputation, according to Lord
Byron, lay in her having stilettoed one of her favourite
lovers. In the intervals between the singing he
pointed out to me different persons among the
audience, to whom celebrity of various sorts, but,
for the most part, disreputable, attached; and of
one lady who sat near us, he related an anecdote,
which, whether new or old, may, as creditable to
Venetian facetiousness, be worth, perhaps, repeating.
This lady had, it seems, been pronounced by Napo-
leon the finest woman in Venice ; but the Venetians,

240 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

not quite agreeing with this opinion of the great
man, contented themselves with calling her " La
Bella per Decreto" — adding (as the Decrees always
begin with the word " Considerando "), " Ma senza
il Considerando."

From the opera, in pursuance of our agreement
to " make a night of it," we betook ourselves to a
sort of cabaret in the Place of St. Mark, and there,
within a few yards of the Palace of the Doges, sat
drinking hot brandy punch, and laughing over old
times, till the clock of St. Mark struck the second
hour of the morning. Lord Byron then took me in
his gondola, and, the moon being in its fullest splen-
dour, he made the gondoliers row us to such points
of view as might enable me to see Venice, at that
hour, to advantage. Nothing could be more so-
lemnly beautiful than the whole scene around, and
I had, for the first time, the Venice of my dreams
before me. All those meaner details which so
offend the eye by day were now softened down by
the moonlight into a sort of visionary indistinctness ;
and the effect of that silent city of palaces, sleeping,
as it were, upon the waters, in the bright stillness
of the night, was such as could not but affect deeply
even the least susceptible imagination. My com-
panion saw that I was moved by it, and though
familiar with the scene himself, seemed to give way,
for the moment, to the same strain of feeling ; and,
as we exchanged a few remarks suggested by that
wreck of human glory before us, his voice, habitually
so cheerful, sunk into a tone of mournful sweetness,
such as I had rarely before heard from him, and

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 241

shall not easily forget. This mood, however, was
but of the moment ; some quick turn of ridicule soon
carried him off into a totally different vein, and at
about three o'clock in the morning, at the door of
his own palazzo, we parted, laughing, as we had
met; — an agreement having been first made that I
should take an early dinner with him next day at
his villa, on my road to Ferrara.

Having employed the morning of the following
day in completing my round of sights at Venice, —
taking care to visit specially " that picture by Gior-
gione," to which the poet's exclamation, " such a
woman ! " * will long continue to attract all votaries
of beauty, — I took my departure from Venice, and,
at about three o'clock, arrived at La Mira. I found
my noble host waiting to receive me, and, in passing
with him through the hall, saw his little Allegra,
who, with her nursery maid, was standing there as
if just returned from a walk. To the perverse fancy
he had for falsifying his own character, and even
imputing to himself faults the most alien to his
nature, I have already frequently adverted, and had,
on this occasion, a striking instance of it. After I
had spoken a little, in passing, to the child, and
made some remark on its beauty, he said to me, —

* " "Pis but a portrait of his son and wife,

And self; but such a woman ! love in life ! "

BEPFO, Stanza xii.

This seems, by the way, to be an incorrect description of the
picture, as, according to Vasari and others, Giorgione never was
married, and died young.

VOL. IV. R

24?2 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

" Have you any notion — but I suppose you have —
of what they call the parental feeling ? For myself,
I have not the least." And yet, when that child
died, in a year or two afterwards, he who now uttered
this artificial speech was so overwhelmed by the
event, that those who were about him at the time
actually trembled for his reason !

A short time before dinner he left the room, and
in a minute or two returned, carrying in his hand a
white leather bag. " Look here," he said, holding
it up — " this would be worth something to Murray,
though you, I dare say, would not give sixpence for
it." — "What is it?" I asked. — "My Life and
Adventures," he answered. On hearing this, I
raised my hands in a gesture of wonder. " It is
not a thing," he continued, " that can be published
during my lifetime, but you may have it — if you
like — there, do whatever you please with it." In
taking the bag, and thanking him most warmly, I
added, " This will make a nice legacy for my little
Tom, who shall astonish the latter days of the nine-
teenth century with it." He then added, " You
may show it to any of our friends you think worthy
of it:" — and this is, nearly word for word, the
whole of what passed between us on the subject.

At dinner we were favoured with the presence of
Madame Guiccioli, who was so obliging as to furnish
me, at Lord Byron's suggestion, with a letter of
introduction to her brother, Count Gamba, whom it
was probable, they both thought, I should meet at
Rome. This letter I never had an opportunity of
presenting ; and as it was left open for me to read,

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 24*3

and was, the greater part of it, I have little doubt,
dictated by my noble friend, I may venture, without
impropriety, to give an extract from it here ; — pre-
mising that the allusion to the " Castle," &c. refers
to some tales respecting the cruelty of Lord Byron
to his wife, which the young Count had heard, and,
at this time, implicitly believed. After a few sen-
tences of compliment to the bearer, the letter pro-
ceeds:— " He is on his way to see the wonders of
Rome, and there is no one, I am sure, more qualified
to enjoy them. I shall be gratified and obliged by
your acting, as far as you can, as his guide. He is
a friend of Lord Byron's, and much more accurately
acquainted with his history than those who have
related it to you. He will accordingly describe to
you, if you ask him, the shape, the dimensions, and
whatever else you may please to require, of that
Castle in which he keeps imprisoned a young and in-
nocent wife, &c. &c. My dear Pietro, whenever you
feel inclined to laugh, do send two lines of answer
to your sister, who loves and ever will love you
with the greatest tenderness — Teresa Guiccioli." *

* " Egli viene per vedere le meraviglie di questa Citta, e
sono certa che nessuno meglio di lui saprebbe gustarle. Mi
sara grato che vi facciate sua guida come potrete, e voi poi me
ne avrete obbligo. Egli e amico de Lord Byron — sa la sua
storia assai piii precisamente di quelli che a voi la raccontarono.
Egli dunque vi raccontera se lo interrogherete la forma, le
dimensioni, e tuttocio che vi piacera del Castello ove tiene im-
prigwnata una giovane innocente sposa, &c. &c. Mio caro
Pietro, quando ti sei bene sfogato a ridere, allora rispondi due
righe alia tua sorella, che t' ama e t' amera sempre colla mag-
giore tenerezza."

R 2

244 NOTICES OF THE 1819,

After expressing his regret that I had not been
able to prolong my stay at Venice, my noble friend
said, " At least, I think, you might spare a day or
two to go with me to Arqua. I should like," he
continued, thoughtfully, " to visit that tomb with
you:" — then, breaking off into his usual gay tone,
"a pair of poetical pilgrims — eh, Tom, what say
you?" — That I should have declined this offer, and
thus lost the opportunity of an excursion which
would have been remembered, as a bright dream,
through all my after-life, is a circumstance I never
can think of without wonder and self-reproach.
But the main design on which I had then set my
mind of reaching Rome, and, if possible, Naples,
within the limited period which circumstances al-
lowed, rendered me far less alive than I ought to
have been to the preciousness of the episode thus
offered to me.

When it was time for me to depart, he expressed
his intention to accompany me a few miles ; and,
ordering his horses to follow, proceeded with me in
the carriage as far as Stra, where for the last time
— how little thinking it was to be the last ! — I bade
my kind and admirable friend farewell.

LETTER 341. TO MR. HOPPNER.

« October 22. 1819.

" I am glad to hear of your return, but I do not
know how to congratulate you — unless you think
differently of Venice from what I think now, and
you thought always. I am, besides, about to renew

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 245

your troubles by requesting you to be judge between
Mr. E * * * and myself in a small matter of imputed
peculation and irregular accounts on the part of that
phoenix of secretaries. As I knew that you had
not parted friends, at the same time that / refused
for my own part any judgment but yours, I offered
him his choice of any person, the least scoundrel
native to be found in Venice, as his own umpire ;
but he expressed himself so convinced of your im-
partiality, that he declined any but you. This is in
his favour. — The paper within will explain to you
the default in his accounts. You will hear his ex-
planation, and decide if it so please you. I shall
not appeal from the decision.

" As he complained that his salary was insufficient,
I determined to have his accounts examined, and
the enclosed was the result — It is all in black and
white with documents, and I have despatched
Fletcher to explain (or rather to perplex) the
matter.

" I have had much civility and kindness from
Mr. Dorville during your journey, and I thank him
accordingly.

" Your letter reached me at your departure *, and

* Mr. Hoppner, before his departure from Venice for Swit-
zerland, had, with all the zeal of a true friend, written a letter
to Lord Byron, entreating him " to leave Ravenna while yet
he had a whole skin, and urging him not to risk the safety of a
person he appeared so sincerely attached to — as well as his
own — for the gratification of a momentary passion, which
could only be a source of regret to both parties." In the same
letter Mr. Hoppner informed him of some reports he had
B 3

246 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

displeased me very much : — not that it might not
be true in its statement and kind in its intention,
but you have lived long enough to know how useless
all such representations ever are and must be in
cases where the passions are concerned. To reason
with men in such a situation is like reasoning with
a drunkard in his cups — the only answer you will
get from him is, that he is sober, and you are drunk.

" Upon that subject we will (if you like) be
silent. You might only say what would distress
me without answering any purpose whatever ; and
I have too many obligations to you to answer you
in the same style. So that you should recollect
that you have also that advantage over me. I hope
to see you soon.

" I suppose you know that they said at Venice,
that I was arrested at Bologna as a Carbonaro —
a story about as true as their usual conversation.
Moore has been here — I lodged him in my house
at Venice, and went to see him daily ; but I could
not at that time quit La Mira entirely. You and I
were not very far from meeting in Switzerland.
With my best respects to Mrs. Hoppner, believe
me ever and truly, &c.

" P. S. Allegra is here in good health and
spirits — I shall keep her with me till I go to
England, which will perhaps be in the spring. It

heard lately at Venice, which, though possibly, he said, un-
founded, had much increased his anxiety respecting the con-
sequences of the connection formed by him.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 24-7

has just occurred to me that you may not perhaps
like to undertake the office of judge between Mr. E.
and your humble servant. — Of course, as Mr.
Listen (the comedian, not the ambassador) says,
* it is all hoptional;' but I have no other resource.
I do not wish to find him a rascal, if it can be
avoided, and would rather think him guilty of
carelessness than cheating. The case is this —
can I, or not, give him a character for honesty ? —
It is not my intention to continue him in my
service."

LETTER 342. TO MR. HOPPNER.

« October 25. 1819.

" You need not have made any excuses about
the letter : I never said but that you might, could,
should, or would have reason. I merely described
my own state of inaptitude to listen to it at that
time, and in those circumstances. Besides, you
did not speak from your own authority — but from
what you said you had heard. Now my blood boils
to hear an Italian speaking ill of another Italian,
because, though they lie in particular, they speak
truth in general by speaking ill at all ; — and al-
though they know that they are trying and wishing
to lie, they do not succeed, merely because they
can say nothing so bad of each other, that it may
not, and must not be true, from the atrocity of their
long debased national character. *

* " Tliis language " (says Mr. Hoppner, in some remarks
upon the above letter) " is strong, but it was the language of

R 4

248 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

" With regard to E., you will perceive a most
irregular, extravagant account, without proper do-
cuments to support it. He demanded an increase
of salary, which made me suspect him ; he sup-
ported an outrageous extravagance of expenditure,
and did not like the dismission of the cook; he
never complained of him — as in duty bound — at
the time of his robberies. I can only say, that the
house expense is now under one half of what it
then was, as he himself admits. He charged for a
comb eighteen francs, — the real price was eight.
He charged a passage from Fusina for a person
named lambelli, who paid it herself, as she will
prove if necessary. He fancies, or asserts himself,
the victim of a domestic complot against him ; —
accounts are accounts — prices are prices ; — let
him make out a fair detail. / am not prejudiced
against him — on the contrary, I supported him
against the complaints of his wife, and of his former
master, at a time when I could have crushed him
like an earwig ; and if he is a scoundrel, he is the

prejudice ; and he was rather apt thus to express the feelings of
the moment, without troubling himself to consider how soon
he might be induced to change them. He was at this time so
sensitive on the subject of Madame * *, that, merely because
some persons had disapproved of her conduct, he declaimed in
the above manner against the whole nation. I never" (con-
tinues Mr. Hoppner) " was partial to Venice ; but disliked it
almost from the first month of my residence there. Yet I ex-
perienced more kindness in that place than I ever met with in
any country, and witnessed acts of generosity and disin-
terestedness such as rarely are met with elsewhere."

1819.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 219

greatest of scoundrels, an ungrateful one. The
truth is, probably, that he thought I was leaving
Venice, and determined to make the most of it.
At present he keeps bringing in account after ac-
count^ though he had always money in hand — as I
believe you know my system was never to allow
longer than a week's bills to run. Pray read him
this letter — I desire nothing to be concealed
against which he may defend himself.

" Pray how is your little boy ? and how are you ?
— I shall be up in Venice very soon, and we will be
bilious together. I hate the place and all that it
inherits.

« Yours," &c.

LETTER 343. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" October 28. 1819.

" I have to thank you for your letter, and your
compliment to Don Juan. I said nothing to you
about it, understanding that it is a sore subject
with the moral reader, and has been the cause of a
great row ; but I am glad you like it. I will say
nothing about the shipwreck, except that I hope
you think it is as nautical and technical as verse
could admit in the octave measure.

" The poem has not sold well, so Murray says —
* but the best judges, &c. say, &c.' so says that
worthy man. I have never seen it in print. The
third Canto is in advance about one hundred
stanzas ; but the failure of the two first has weak-
ened my estro, and it will neither be so good as the

250 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

two former, nor completed, unless I get a little
more riscaldato in its behalf. I understand the
outcry was beyond every thing. — Pretty cant for
people who read Tom Jones, and Roderick Random,
and the Bath Guide, and Ariosto, and Dryden, and
Pope — to say nothing of Little's Poems I Of
course I refer to the morality of these works, and
not to any pretension of mine to compete with them
in any thing but decency. I hope yours is the Paris
edition, and that you did not pay the London
price. I have seen neither except in the news-
papers.

" Pray make my respects to Mrs. H., and take
care of your little boy. All my household have the
fever and ague, except Fletcher, Allegra, and mysen
(as we used to say in Nottinghamshire), and the
horses, and Mutz, and Moretto. In the beginning
of November, perhaps sooner, I expect to have the
pleasure of seeing you. To-day I got drenched by
a thunder-storm, and my horse and groom too, and
his horse all bemired up to the middle in a cross-
road. It was summer at noon, and at five we were
bewintered ; but the lightning was sent perhaps to
let us know that the summer was not yet over. It
is queer weather for the 27th October.

« Yours," &c.

LETTER 344. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, October 29. 1819.

" Yours of the 15th came yesterday. I am sorry
that you do not mention a large letter addressed to

1819.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 251

your care for Lady Byron, from me, at Bologna,
two months ago. Pray tell me, was this letter
received and forwarded ?

" You say nothing of the vice-consulate for the
Ravenna patrician, from which it is to be inferred
that the thing will not be done.

" I had written about a hundred stanzas of a
third Canto to Don Juan, but the reception of the
two first is no encouragement to you nor me to
proceed.

" I had also written about 600 lines of a poem,
the Vision (or Prophecy) of Dante, the subject a view
of Italy in the ages down to the present — suppos-
ing Dante to speak in his own person, previous to
his death, and embracing all topics in the way of
prophecy, like Lycophron's Cassandra ; but this and
the other are both at a stand-still for the present.

" I gave Moore, who is gone to Rome, my Life
in MS., in seventy-eight folio sheets, brought down
to 1816. But this I put into his hands for his care,
as he has some other MSS. of mine — a Journal
kept in 1814, &c. Neither are for publication
during my life ; but when I am cold you may do
what you please. In the mean time, if you like to
read them you may, and show them to anybody
you like — I care not.

" The Life is Memoranda, and not Confessions.
I have left out all my loves (except in a general
way), and many other of the most important things
(because I must not compromise other people), so
that it is like the play of Hamlet — * the part of
Hamlet omitted by particular desire/ But you will

252 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

find many opinions, and some fun, with a detailed
account of my marriage, and its consequences, as
true as a party concerned can make such account,
for I suppose we are all prejudiced.
- " I have never read over this Life since it was
written, so that I know not exactly what it may
repeat or contain. Moore and I passed some merry
days together.

" I probably must return for business, or in my
way to America. Pray, did you get a letter for
Hobhouse, who will have told you the contents?
I understand that the Venezuelan commissioners
had orders to treat with emigrants; now I want
to go there. I should not make a bad South-
American planter, and I should take my natural
daughter, Allegra, with me, and settle. I wrote,
at length, to Hobhouse, to get information from
Perry, who, I suppose, is the best topographer and
trumpeter of the new republicans. Pray write.

" Yours ever.

" P. S. Moore and I did nothing but laugh. He
will tell you of * my whereabouts,' and all my pro-
ceedings at this present ; they are as usual. You
should not let those fellows publish false < Don
Juans ; ' but do not put my name, because I mean

to cut R ts up like a gourd, in the preface, if I

continue the poem."

LETTER 345. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" October 29. 1819.

" The Ferrara story is of a piece with all the rest
of the Venetian manufacture, — you may judge. I

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 253

only changed horses there since I wrote to you,
after my visit in June last. * Convent, and ' carry
offi quotha ! and ' girl' I should like to know who
has been carried off, except poor dear me. I have
been more ravished myself than anybody since the
Trojan war ; but as to the arrest and its causes, one
is as true as the other, and I can account for the
invention of neither. I suppose it is some confusion
of the tale of the F * * and of Me. Guiccioli, and
half a dozen more ; but it is useless to unravel the
web, when one has only to brush it away. I shall
settle with Master E. who looks very blue at your
in-decision, and swears that he is the best arithme-
tician in Europe ; and so I think also, for he makes
out two and two to be five.

" You may see me next week. I have a horse or
two more (five in all), and I shall repossess myself
of Lido, and I will rise earlier, and we will go and
shake our livers over the beach, as heretofore, if you
like — and we will make the Adriatic roar again with
our hatred of that now empty oyster-shell, without
its pearl, the city of Venice.

" Murray sent me a letter yesterday : the im-
postors have published two new third Cantos of Don
Juan : — the devil take the impudence of some
blackguard bookseller or other therefor / Perhaps
I did not make myself understood ; he told me the
sale had been great, 1200 out of 1500 quarto, I be-
lieve (which is nothing after selling 13,000 of the
Corsair in one day) ; but that the « best judges,' &c.
had said it was very fine, and clever, and particu-
larly good English, and poetry, and all those con-

254- NOTICES OF THE 1819.

solatory things, which are not, however, worth a
single copy to a bookseller : and as to the author, of
course I am in a d — ned passion at the bad taste of
the times, and swear there is nothing like posterity,
who, of course, must know more of the matter than
their grandfathers. There has been an eleventh
commandment to the women not to read it, and,
what is still more extraordinary, they seem not to
have broken it. But that can be of little import to
them, poor things, for the reading or non-reading a
book will never * * * *.

" Count G. comes to Venice next week, and I
am requested to consign his wife to him, which shall
be done. What you say of the long evenings at the
Mira, or Venice, reminds me of what Curran said
to Moore : — ' So I hear you have married a pretty
woman, and a very good creature, too — an excellent
creature. Pray — um ! how do you pass your even-
ings 9 ' It is a devil of a question that, and perhaps
as easy to answer with a wife as with a mistress.

" If you go to Milan, pray leave at least a Vice-
Consul — the only vice that will ever be wanting in
Venice. D'Orville is a good fellow. But you shall
go to England in the spring with me, and plant
Mrs. Hoppner at Berne with her relations for a few
months. I wish you had been here (at Venice, I
mean, not the Mira) when Moore was here — we
were very merry and tipsy. He hated Venice, by the
way, and swore it was a sad place. *

* I beg to say that this report of my opinion of Venice
is coloured somewhat too deeply by the feelings of the
reporter.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 255

" So Madame Albrizzi's death is in danger — poor
woman ! Moore told me that at Geneva they had
made a devil of a story of the Fornaretta : — ' Young
lady seduced ! — subsequent abandonment ! — leap
into the Grand Canal ! ' — and her being in the
' hospital of fous in consequence ! ' I should like
to know who was nearest being made 'fou,' and be
d — d to them I Don't you think me in the inte-
resting character of a very ill-used gentleman ? I
hope your little boy is well. Allegrina is flourishing
like a pomegranate blossom. Yours," &c.

LETTER 346. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, November 8. 1819.

" Mr. Hoppner has lent me a copy of « Don Juan/
Paris edition, which he tells me is read in Switzer-
land by clergymen and ladies with considerable ap-
probation. In the second Canto, you must alter the
49th stanza to

" 'Tvvas twilight, and the sunless day went down

Over the waste of waters, like a veil
Which if withdrawn would but disclose the frown

Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail ;
Thus to their hopeless eyes the night was shown,

And grimly darkled o'er their faces pale
And the dim desolate deep ; twelve days had Fear
Been their familiar, and now Death was here.

" I have been ill these eight days with a tertian
fever, caught in the country on horseback in a
thunder-storm. Yesterday I had the fourth attack :

256 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

the two last were very smart, the first day as well
as the last being preceded by vomiting. It is the
fever of the place and the season. I feel weakened,
but not unwell, in the intervals, except headach
and lassitude.

" Count Guiccioli has arrived in Venice, and has
presented his spouse (who had preceded him two
months for her health and the prescriptions of Dr.
Aglietti) with a paper of conditions, regulations of
hours and conduct, and morals, &c. &c. &c. which
he insists on her accepting, and she persists in re-
fusing. I am expressly, it should seem, excluded
by this treaty, as an indispensable preliminary ; so
that they are in high dissension, and what the re-
sult may be I know not, particularly as they are
consulting friends.

" To-night, as Countess Guiccioli observed me
poring over < Don Juan,' she stumbled by mere
chance on the 1 37th stanza of the first Canto, and
asked me what it meant. I told her, l Nothing —
but " your husband is coming." ' As I said this ir
Italian, with some emphasis, she started up in i
fright, and said, * Oh, my God, is he coming?'
thinking it was her own, who either was or ought
to have been at the theatre. You may suppose
we laughed when she found out the mistake.
You will be amused, as I was ; — it happened not
three hours ago.

" I wrote to you last week, but have added no-
thing to the third Canto since my fever, nor to
« The Prophecy of Dante.' Of the former there are
about 100 octaves done ; of the latter about 500

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 257

lines — perhaps more. Moore saw the third Juan,
as far as it then went. I do not know if my fever
will let me go on with either, and the tertian lasts,
they say, a good while. I had it in Malta on my
way home, and the malaria fever in Greece the
year before that. The Venetian is not very fierce,
but I was delirious one of the nights with it, for an
hour or two, and, on my senses coming back, found
Fletcher sobbing on one side of the bed, and La
Contessa Guiccioli * weeping on the other ; so that

* The following curious particulars of his delirium are
given by Madame Guiccioli : — "At the beginning of winter
Count Guiccioli came from Ravenna to fetch me. When he
arrived, Lord Byron was ill of a fever, occasioned by his
having got wet through ; — a violent storm having surprised
him while taking his usual exercise on horseback. He had
been delirious the whole night, and I had watched continually
by his bedside. During his delirium he composed a good
many verses, and ordered his servant to write them down from
his dictation. The rhythm of these verses was quite correct,
and the poetry itself had no appearance of being the work of
a delirious mind. He preserved them for some time after he
got well, and then burned them." — " Sul cominciare dell*
inverno il Conte Guiccioli venne a prendermi per ricondurmi
a Ravenna. Quando egli giunse Ld. Byron era ammalato di
febbri prese per essersi bagnato avendolo sorpreso un forte
temporale mentre faceva 1' usato suo esercizio a cavallo. Egli
aveva delirato tutta la notte, ed io aveva sempre vegliato presso
al suo letto. Nel suo delirio egli compose molti versi che
ordino al suo domestico di scrivere sotto la sua dittatura. La
misura dei versi era esatissima, e la poesia pure non pareva
opera di una mente in delirio. Egli la conserve lungo tempo
dopo restabilito — poi 1' abbruccio."

I have been informed, too, that, during his ravings at this
VOL. IV. S

258 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

I had no want of attendance. I have not yet taken
any physician, because, though I think they may
relieve in chronic disorders, such as gout and the
like, £c. &c. &c. (though they can't cure them) —
just as surgeons are necessary to set bones and tend
wounds — yet I think fevers quite out of their reach,
and remediable only by diet and nature.

" I don't like the taste of bark, but I suppose that
I must take it soon.

" Tell Rose that somebody at Milan (an Austrian,
Mr. Hoppner says) is answering his book. William
Bankes is in quarantine at Trieste. I have not lately
heard from you. Excuse this paper: it is long
paper shortened for the occasion. What folly is
this of Carlile's trial ? why let him have the ho-
nours of a martyr? it will only advertise the books
in question. Yours, &c.

" P. S. As I tell you that the Guiccioli business
is on the eve of exploding in one way or the other,
I will just add that, without attempting to influence
the decision of the Contessa, a good deal depends
upon it. If she and her husband make it up, you
will, perhaps, see me in England sooner than you
expect. If not, I shall retire with her to France or
America, change my name, and lead a quiet pro-
vincial life. All this may seem odd, but I have
got the poor girl into a scrape ; and as neither
her birth, nor her rank, nor her connections by

time, he was constantly haunted by the idea of his mother-in-
law, — taking every one that came near him for her, and re-
proaching those about him for letting her enter his room.

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 259

birth or marriage are inferior to my own, I am in
honour bound to support her through. Besides, she
is a very pretty woman — ask Moore — and not yet
one and twenty.

" If she gets over this and I get over my tertian,
I will, perhaps, look in at Albemarle Street, some of
these days, en passant to Bolivar."

LETTER 347. TO MR. BANKES.

" Venice, November 20. 1819.

" A tertian ague which has troubled me for some
time, and the indisposition of my daughter, have pre-
vented me from replying before to your welcome
letter. I have not been ignorant of your progress
nor of your discoveries, and I trust that you are no
worse in health from your labours. You may rely
upon finding every body in England eager to reap
the fruits of them ; and as you have done more than
other men, I hope you will not limit yourself to say-
ing less than may do justice to the talents and time
you have bestowed on your perilous researches.
The first sentence of my letter will have explained
to you why I cannot join you at Trieste. I was on
the point of setting out for England (before I knew
of your arrival) when my child's illness has made her
and me dependent on a Venetian Proto-Medico.

" It is now seven years since you and I met ; —
which time you have employed better for others
and more honourably for yourself than I have done.

" In England you will find considerable changes,
public and private, — you will see some of our old

a 9.

260 NOTICES OF THE 1810.

college contemporaries turned into lords of the
Treasury, Admiralty, and the like, — others become
reformers and orators, — many settled in life, as
it is called, — and others settled in death; among
the latter, (by the way, not our fellow colle-
gians,) Sheridan, Curran, Lady Melbourne, Monk
Lewis, Frederick Douglas, &c. &c. &c. ; but you
will still find Mr. » * living and all his family, as
also *****.

" Should you come up this way, and I am still
here, you need not be assured how glad I shall be
to see you ; I long to hear some part from you, of
that which I expect in no long time to see. At
length you have had better fortune than any tra-
veller of equal enterprise (except Humboldt), in
returning safe ; and after the fate of the Brownes,
and the Parkes, and the Burckhardts, it is hardly less
surprise than satisfaction to get you back again.
" Believe me ever

" And very affectionately yours,

« BYRON."

LETTER 348. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Venice, December 4. 1819.

" You may do as you please, but you are about a
hopeless experiment. Eldon will decide against
you, were it only that my name is in the record.
You will also recollect that if the publication is
pronounced against, on the grounds you mention,
as indecent and blasphemous, that / lose all right in
my daughter's guardianship and education, in short,
all paternal authority, and every thing concerning

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 261

her, except ********
It was so decided in Shelley's case, because he had
written Queen Mab, &c. &c. However, you can
ask the lawyers, and do as you like : I do not inhibit
you trying the question ; I merely state one of the
consequences to me. With regard to the copyright,
it is hard that you should pay for a nonentity : I
will therefore refund it, which I can very well do,
not having spent it, nor begun upon it ; and so we
will be quits on that score. It lies at my banker's.

" Of the Chancellor's law I am no judge ; but take
up Tom Jones, and read his Mrs. Waters and Molly
Seagrim ; or Prior's Hans Carvel and Paulo Pur-
ganti : Smollett's Roderick Random, the chapter of
Lord Strutwell, and many others ; Peregrine Pickle,
the scene of the Beggar Girl ; Johnson's London^ for
coarse expressions ; for instance, the words ' * *,'
and ' * *;' Anstey's Bath Guide, the * Hearken,
Lady Betty, hearken ;' — take up, in short, Pope,
Prior, Congreve, Dryden, Fielding, Smollett, and
let the counsel select passages, and what becomes
of their copyright, if his Wat Tyler decision is to
pass into a precedent? I have nothing more to say :
you must judge for yourselves.

" I wrote to you some time ago. I have had a
tertian ague ; my daughter Allegra has been ill also,
and I have been almost obliged to run away with a
married woman ; but with some difficulty, and many
internal struggles, I reconciled the lady with her
lord, and cured the fever of the child with bark, and
my own with cold water. I think of setting out for
England by the Tyrol in a few days, so that I could
s 3

262 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

wish you to direct your next letter to Calais.
Excuse my writing in great haste and late in the
morning, or night, whichever you please to call it.
The third Canto of ' Don Juan' is completed, in
about two hundred stanzas ; very decent, I believe,
but do not know, and it is useless to discuss until it
be ascertained if it may or may not be a property.

" My present determination to quit Italy was
unlocked for ; but I have explained the reasons in
letters to my sister and Douglas Kinnaird, a week or
two ago. My progress will depend upon the snows
of the Tyrol, and the health of my child, who is at
present quite recovered ; but I hope to get on well,
and am

" Yours ever and truly.

" P. S. Many thanks for your letters, to which
you are not to consider this as an answer, but as an
acknowledgment. "

The struggle which, at the time of my visit to
him, I had found Lord Byron so well disposed to
make towards averting, as far as now lay in his
power, some of the mischievous consequences which,
both to the object of his attachment and himself,
were likely to result from their connection, had been
brought, as the foregoing letters show, to a crisis
soon after I left him. The Count Guiccioli, on his
arrival at Venice, insisted, as we have seen, that his
lady should return with him ; and, after some con-
jugal negotiations, in which Lord Byron does not
appear to have interfered, the young Contessa con-
sented reluctantly to accompany her lord to Ravenna,

1819.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 2G3

it being first covenanted that, in future, all communi-
cation between her and her lover should cease.

" In a few days after this," says Mr. Hoppner, in
some notices of his noble friend with which he has
favoured me, " he returned to Venice, very much
out of spirits, owing to Madame Guiccioli's departure,
and out of humour with every body and every thing
around him. We resumed our rides at the Lido;
and I did my best not only to raise his spirits, but
to make him forget his absent mistress, and to keep
him to his purpose of returning to England. He
went into no society; and having no longer any
relish for his former occupation, his time, when he
was not writing, hung heavy enough on hand."

The promise given by the lovers not to correspond
was, as all parties must have foreseen, soon violated ;
and the letters Lord Byron addressed to the lady,
at this time, though written in a language not his
own, are rendered frequently even eloquent by the
mere force of the feeling that governed him — a
feeling which could not have owed its fuel to fancy
alone, since now that reality had been so long sub-
stituted, it still burned on. From one of these
letters, dated November 25th, I shall so far pre-
sume upon the discretionary power vested in me,
as to lay a short extract or two before the reader —
not merely as matters of curiosity, but on account
of the strong evidence they afford of the struggle
between passion and a sense of right that now
agitated him.

" You are," he says, " and ever will be, my first
thought. But, at this moment, I am in a state most
s 4?

264? NOTICES OF THE 1819.

dreadful, not knowing which way to decide; — on
the one hand, fearing that I should compromise you
for ever, by my return to Ravenna and the conse-
quences of such a step, and, on the other, dreading
that I shall lose both you and myself, and all that I
have ever known or tasted of happiness, by never
seeing you more. I pray of you, I implore you to
be comforted, and to believe that I cannot cease to
love you but with my life." * In another part he
says, " I go to save you, and leave a country
insupportable to me without you. Your letters to
F * * and myself do wrong to my motives — but you
will yet see your injustice. It is not enough that I
must leave you — from motives of which ere long
you will be convinced — it is not enough that I
must fly from Italy, with a heart deeply wounded,
after having passed all my days in solitude since
your departure, sick both in body and mind — but I
must also have to endure your reproaches without
answering and without deserving them. Farewell !
in that one word is comprised the death of my
happiness. " f

* " Tu sei, e sarai sempre mio primo pensier. Ma in
questo momenta sono in un' stato orribile non sapendo cosa
decidere ; — temendo, da una parte, comprometterti in eterno
col mio ritorno a Ravenna, e colle sue consequenze; e, dal*
altra perderti, e me stesso, e tutto quel che ho conosciuto o
gustato di felicita, nel non vederti piu. Ti prego, ti supplico
calmarti, e credere che non posso cessare ad amarti che colla
vita."

f " .to parto, per salvarti, e lascio un paese divenuto insop-
portabile senza di te. Le tue lettere alia F * *, ed anche a me

1819.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 265

He had now arranged every thing for his depar-
ture for England, and had even fixed the day, when
accounts reached him from Ravenna that the Con-
tessa was alarmingly ill ; — her sorrow at their separ-
ation having so much preyed upon her mind, that
even her own family, fearful of the consequences,
had withdrawn all opposition to her wishes, and
now, with the sanction of Count Guiccioli himself,
entreated her lover to hasten to Ravenna. What
was he, in this dilemma, to do ? Already had he
announced his coming to different friends in England,
and every dictate, he felt, of prudence and manly
fortitude urged his departure. While thus balancing
between duty and inclination, the day appointed for
his setting out arrived; and the following picture,
from the life, of his irresolution on the occasion, is
from a letter written by a female friend of Madame
Guiccioli, who was present at the scene : — " He was
ready dressed for the journey, his gloves and cap on,
and even his little cane in his hand. Nothing was

stesso fanno torto ai miei motivi ; ma col tempo vedrai la tua
ingiustizia. Tu parli del dolor — io lo sento, ma mi mancano
le parole. Non basta lasciarti per del motivi dei quali tu eri
persuasa (non molto tempo fa) — non basta partire dall* Italia
col cuore lacerato, dopo aver passato tutti i giorni dopo la
tua partenza nella solitudine, ammalato di corpo e di anima —
ma ho anche a sopportare i tuoi rimproveri, senza replicarti,
e senza meritarli. Addio — in quella parola e compresa la
morte di mia felicita."

The close of this last sentence exhibits one of the very few
instances of incorrectness that Lord Byron falls into in these
letters; — the proper construction being "della mia felicita."

266 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

now waited for but his coming down stairs, — his
boxes being already all on board the gondola. At
this moment, my Lord, byway of pretext, declares,
that if it should strike one o'clock before every
thing was in order (his arms being the only thing
not yet quite ready), he would not go that day.
The hour strikes, and he remains ! " *

The writer adds, " it is evident he has not the
heart to go ;" and the result proved that she had
not judged him wrongly. The very next day's
tidings from Ravenna decided his fate, and he
himself, in a letter to the Contessa, thus announces
the triumph which she had achieved. " F * * *
will already have told you, with her accustomed
sublimity, that Love has gained the victory. I
could not summon up resolution enough to leave
the country where you are, without, at least, once
more seeing you. On yourself, perhaps, it will
depend, whether I ever again shall leave you. Of
the rest we shall speak when we meet. You ought,
by this time, to know which is most conducive to
your welfare, my presence or my absence. For
myself, I am a citizen of the world — all countries
are alike to me. You have ever been, since our
first acquaintance, the sole object of my thougMs.

* " Egli era tutto vestito di viaggio coi guanti fra le mani,
col suo bonnet, e persino colla piccola sua canna ; non altro
aspettavasi che egli scendesse le scale, tutti i bauli erano in
barca. Milord fa la pretesta che se suona un ora dopo il mez-
zodi e che non sia ogni cosa all' ordine (poiche le arnii sole
non erano in pronto) egli non partirebbe piu per quel giorno.
L'ora suona ed egli resta."

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON". 267

My opinion was, that the best course I could adopt,
both for your peace and that of all your family,
would have been to depart and go far, far away
from you; — since to have been near and not ap-
proach you would have been, for me, impossible.
You have however decided that I am to return to
Ravenna. I shall accordingly return — and shall do
— and be all that you wish. I cannot say more." *
On quitting Venice he took leave of Mr. Hoppner
in a short but cordial letter, which I cannot better
introduce than by prefixing to it the few words of
comment with which this excellent friend of the
noble poet has himself accompanied it : — "I need
not say with what painful feeling I witnessed the
departure of a person who, from the first day of our
acquaintance, had treated me with unvaried kind-
ness, reposing a confidence in me which it was be-
yond the power of my utmost efforts to deserve ;
admitting me to an intimacy which I had no right

* " La F * * ti avra delta, colla sua solita sublimith, che
1'Amor ha vinto. lo non ho potuto trovare forza di aniraa
per lasciare il paese dove tu sei, senza vederti almeno un' altra
volta : — forse dipendera da te se mai ti lascio piu. Per il
resto parleremo. Tu dovresti adesso sapere cosa sara piu con-
venevole al tuo ben essere la mia presenza o la mia lontananza.
lo sono cittadino del mondo — tutti i paesi sono eguali per me.
Tu sei stata sempre (dopo che ci siamo conosciuti) funico
oggetto di miei pensieri. Credeva che il miglior partito per la
pace tua e la pace di tua famiglia fosse il mio partire, e andare
ben lontano ; poiche" stare vicino e non avvicinarti sarebbe per
me impossibile. Ma tu hai deciso che io debbo ritornare a
Ravenna — tornaro — e faro — e saro cio che tu vuoi. Non
posso dirti di piu."

268 • NOTICES OF THE 1819.

to claim, and listening with patience, and the great-
est good temper, to the remonstrances I ventured
to make upon his conduct."

LETTER 349. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" My dear Hoppner,

" Partings are but bitter work at best, so that I
shall not venture on a second with you. Pray make
my respects to Mrs. Hoppner, and assure her of my
unalterable reverence for the singular goodness of
her disposition, which is not without its reward even
in this world — for those who are no great believers
in human virtues would discover enough in her to
give them a better opinion of their fellow-creatures
and — what is still more difficult — of themselves,
as being of the same species, however inferior in
approaching its nobler models. Make, too, what
excuses you can for my omission of the ceremony
of leave-taking. If we all meet again, I will make
my humblest apology ; if not, recollect that I wished
you all well ; and, if you can, forget that I have
given you a great deal of trouble.

" Yours," &c. &c.

LETTER 350. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Venice, December 10. 1819.

" Since I last wrote, I have changed my mind,
and shall not come to England. The more I con-
template, the more I dislike the place and the pro-
spect. You may, therefore, address to me as usual
here, though I mean to go to another city. I have

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 269

finished the third Canto of Don Juan, but the things
I have read and heard discourage all further publi-
cation — at least for the present. You may try the
copy question, but you'll lose it : the cry is up, and
cant is up. I should have no objection to return
the price of the copyright, and have written to
Mr. Kinnaird by this post on the subject. Talk
with him.

" I have not the patience, nor do I feel interest
enough in the question, to contend with the fellows
in their own slang ; but I perceive Mr. Blackwood's
Magazine and one or two others of your missives
have been hyperbolical in their praise, and diabolical
in their abuse. I like and admire W * * n, and
he should not have indulged himself in such out-
rageous licence.* It is overdone and defeats itself.
What would he say to the grossness without passion
and the misanthropy without feeling of Gulliver's
Travels ? — When he talks of Lady's Byron's business,
he talks of what he knows nothing about ; and you
may tell him that no one can more desire a public
investigation of that affair than I do.

" I sent home by Moore (for Moore only, who
has my Journal also) my Memoir written up to 1816,
and I gave him leave to show it to whom he pleased,

* This is one of the many mistakes into which his distance
from the scene of literary operations led him. The gentleman,
to whom the hostile article in the Magazine is here attributed,
has never, either then or since, written upon the subject of the
noble poet's character or genius, without giving vent to a feel-
ing of admiration as enthusiastic as it is always eloquently and
powerfully expressed.

270 NOTICES OF THE 1819.

but not to publish, on any account. You may read
it, and you may let W * * n read it, if he likes — not
for his public opinion, but his private ; for I like the
man, and care very little about his Magazine. And
I could wish Lady B. herself to read it, that she
may have it in her power to mark any thing mis-
taken or mis-stated ; as it may probably appear after
my extinction, and it would be but fair she should
see it, — that is to say, herself willing.

" Perhaps I may take a journey to you in the
spring; but I have been ill and am indolent and
indecisive, because few things interest me. These
fellows first abused me for being gloomy, and now
they are wroth that I am, or attempted to be, face-
tious. I have got such a cold and headach that I
can hardly see what I scrawl : — the winters here
are as sharp as needles. Some time ago, I wrote to
you rather fully about my Italian affairs ; at present
I can say no more except that you shall hear further
by and by.

" Your Blackwood accuses me of treating women
harshly : it may be so, but I have been their martyr ;
my whole life has been sacrificed to them and by
them. I mean to leave Venice in a few days, but
you will address your letters here as usual. When
I fix elsewhere, you shall know."

Soon after this letter to Mr. Murray he set out
for Ravenna, from which place we shall find his cor-
respondence for the next year and a half dated. For
a short time after his arrival, he took up his residence
at an inn ; but the Count Guiccioli having allowed

1819. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 271

him to hire a suite of apartments in the Palazzo
Guiccioli itself, he was once more lodged under the
same roof with the Countess Guiccioli.

LETTER 351. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" Ravenna, Dec. 31. 1819.

" I have been here this week, and was obliged to
put on my armour and go the night after my arrival
to the Marquis Cavalli's, where there were between
two and three hundred of the best company I have
seen in Italy, — more beauty, more youth, and more
diamonds among the women than have been seen
these fifty years in the Sea- Sodom.* I never saw
such a difference between two places of the same
latitude, (or platitude, it is all one,) — music, dancing,
and play, all in the same salle. The G.'s object
appeared to be to parade her foreign friend as much
as possible, and, faith, if she seemed to glory in
so doing, it was not for me to be ashamed of it.
Nobody seemed surprised; — all the women, on the
contrary, were, as it were, delighted with the ex-
cellent example. The vice-legate, and all the other
vices, were as polite as could be ; — and I, who had
acted on the reserve, was fairly obliged to take the
lady under my arm, and look as much like a cicisbeo
as I could on so short a notice, — to say nothing
of the embarrassment of a cocked hat and sword,
much more formidable to me than ever it will be to
the enemy.

* " Gehenna of the waters ! thou Sea- Sodom 1 "

MARINO FALIERO.

272 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

" I write in great haste — do you answer as
hastily. I can understand nothing of all this ; but it
seems as if the G. had been presumed to be planted^
and was determined to show that she was not, —
plantation, in this hemisphere, being the greatest
moral misfortune. But this is mere conjecture, for I
know nothing about it — except that every body
are very kind to her, and not discourteous to me.
Fathers, and all relations, quite agreeable.

" Yours ever,

«B.

" P. S. Best respects to Mrs. H.

" I would send the compliments of the season ;
but the season itself is so complimentary with snow
and rain that I wait for sunshine."

LETTER 352. TO MR. MOORE.

" January 2. 1820.
" My dear Moore,

" ' To-day it is my wedding day ;

And all the folks would stare,
If wife should dine at Edmonton,

And I should dine at Ware.'
Or thus :

" Here's a happy new year ! but with reason,

I beg you'll permit me to say —
Wish me many returns of the season,
But as few as you please of the day.

" My this present writing is to direct you that,
if she chooses, she may see the MS. Memoir in your
possession. I wish her to have fair play, in all

t8'20.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 273

cases, even though it will not be published till after
my decease. For this purpose, it were but just that
Lady B. should know what is there said of her and
hers, that she may have full power to remark on or
respond to any part or parts, as may seem fitting
to herself. This is fair dealing, I presume, in all
events.

" To change the subject, are you in England ? I
send you an epitaph for Castlereagh. *****
Another for Pitt : —

" With death doom'd to grapple

Beneath this cold slab, he
Who lied in the Chapel
Now lies in the Abbey.

" The gods seem to have made me poetical this
day: —

" In digging up your bones, Tom Paine,

Will. Cobbett has done well :
You visit him on earth again,

He'll visit you in hell.
Or,

" You come to him on earth again,
He'll go with you to hell.

" Pray let not these versiculi go forth with my
name, except among the initiated, because my friend
H. has foamed into a reformer, and, I greatly fear,
will subside into Newgate ; since the Honourable
House, according to Galignani's Reports of Parlia-
mentary Debates, are menacing a prosecution to
a pamphlet of his. I shall be very sorry to hear of
any thing but good for him, particularly in these

VOL. IV. T

274? NOTICES OF THE 182O.

miserable squabbles; but tbese are the natural
effects of taking a part in them.

" For my own part I had a sad scene since you
went. Count Gu. came for his wife, and none of
those consequences which Scott prophesied ensued.
There was no damages, as in England, and so Scott
lost his wager. But there was a great scene, for she
would not, at first, go back with him — at least, she
did go back with him ; but he insisted, reasonably
enough, that all communication should be broken
off between her and me. So, finding Italy very
dull, and having a fever tertian, I packed up my
valise, and prepared to cross the Alps ; but my
daughter fell ill, and detained me.

" After her arrival at Ravenna, the Guiccioli fell
ill again too ; and at last, her father (who had, all
along, opposed the liaison most violently till now)
wrote to me to say that she was in such a state that
he begged me to come and see her, — and that her
husband had acquiesced, in consequence of her
relapse, and that he (her father) would guarantee all
this, and that there would be no farther scenes in
consequence between them, and that I should not
be compromised in any way. I set out soon after,
and have been here ever since. I found her a good
deal altered, but getting better : — all this comes of
reading Corinna.

" The Carnival is about to begin, and I saw about
two or three hundred people at the Marquis Cavalli's
the other evening, with as much youth, beauty, and
diamonds among the women, as ever averaged in
the like number. My appearance in waiting on the
Guiccioli was considered as a thing of course. The

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 275

Marquis is her uncle, and naturally considered me
as her relation.

" The paper is out, and so is the letter. Pray
write. Address to Venice, whence the letters will
be forwarded. Yours, &c» B."

LETTER 353. TO MR. HOPPNER.

«* Ravenna, January 2O. 1820.

" I have not decided any thing about remaining
at Ravenna. I may stay a day, a week, a year, all
my life ; but all this depends upon what I can neither
see nor foresee. I came because I was called, and
will go the moment that I perceive what may render
my departure proper. My attachment has neither
the blindness of the beginning, nor the microscopic
accuracy of the close to such liaisons ; but ' time
and the hour ' must decide upon what I do. I can
as yet say nothing, because I hardly know any thing
beyond what I -have told you.

" I wrote to you last post for my movables, as
there is no getting a lodging with a chair or table
here ready ; and as I have already some things of
the sort at Bologna which I had last summer there
for my daughter, I have directed them to be moved ;
and wish the like to be done with those of Venice,
that I may at least get out of the * Albergo Im-
periale,' which is imperial in all true sense of the
epithet. Buffini may be paid for his poison. I forgot
to thank you and Mrs. Hoppner fora whole treasure
of toys for Allegra before our departure ; it was very
kind, and we are very grateful.
T 2

276 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

" Your account of the weeding of the Governor's
party is very entertaining. If you do not understand
the consular exceptions, I do; and it is right that a
man of honour, and a woman of probity, should find
it so, particularly in a place where there are not
1 ten righteous.' As to nobility — in England none
are strictly noble but peers, not even peers' sons,
though titled by courtesy ; nor knights of the garter,
unless of the peerage, so that Castlereagh himself
would hardly pass through a foreign herald's ordeal
till the death of his father.

" The snow is a foot deep here. There is a
theatre, and opera, — the Barber of Seville. Balls
begin on Monday next. Pay the porter for never
looking after the gate, and ship my chattels, and let
me know, or let Castelli let me know, how my law-
suits go on — but fee him only in proportion to his
success. Perhaps we may meet in the spring yet,
if you are for England. I see H * * has got into a
scrape, which does not please me ; he should not
have gone so deep among those men without calcu-
lating the consequences. I used to think myself
the most imprudent of all among my friends and
acquaintances, but almost begin to doubt it.

" Yours," &c.

LETTER 354. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" Ravenna, January 31. 1820.

" You would hardly have been troubled with the
removal of my furniture, but there is none to be had
nearer than Bologna, and I have been fain to have

182O. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 277

that of the rooms which I fitted up for my daughter
there in the summer removed here. The expense will
be at least as great of the land carnage, so that you
see it was necessity, and not choice. Here they get
every thing from Bologna, except some lighter arti-
cles from Forli or Faenza.

" If Scott is returned, pray remember me to him,
and plead laziness the whole and sole cause of my
not replying : — dreadful is the exertion of letter-
writing. The Carnival here is less boisterous, but
we have balls and a theatre. I carried Bankes to
both, and he carried away, I believe, a much more
favourable impression of the society here than of
that of Venice, — recollect that I speak of the native
society only.

" I am drilling very hard to learn how to double
a shawl, and should succeed to admiration if I did
not always double it the wrong side out ; and then I
sometimes confuse and bring away two, so as to put
all the Servanti out, besides keeping their Servile in
the cold till every body can get back their property.
But it is a dreadfully moral place, for you must not
look at anybody's wife except your neighbour's, —
if you go to the next door but one, you are scolded,
and presumed to be perfidious. And then a rela-
zione or an amicizia seems to be a regular affair of
from five to fifteen years, at which period, if there
occur a widowhood, it finishes by a sposalizio ; and
in the mean time it has so many rules of its own that
it is not much better. A man actually becomes a
piece of female property, — they won't let their
Serventi marry until there is a vacancy for them-
T 3

278 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

selves. I know two instances of this in one family
here.

" To-night there was a * Lottery after the

opera ; it is an odd ceremony. Bankes and I took
tickets of it, and buffooned together very merrily.
He is gone to Firenze. Mrs. J * * should have
sent you my postscript ; there was no occasion to
have bored you in person. I never interfere in any-
body's squabbles, — she may scratch your face her-
self.

" The weather here has been dreadful — snow
several feet — a Jiume, broke down a bridge, and
flooded heaven knows how many campi ; then rain
came — and it is still thawing — so that my saddle-
horses have a sinecure till the roads become more
practicable. Why did Lega give away the goat ? a
blockhead — I must have him again.

" Will you pay Missiaglia and the Buffo Buffini of
the Gran Bretagna ? I heard from Moore, who is at
Paris ; I had previously written to him in London,
but he has not yet got my letter, apparently.

" Believe me," &c.

LETTER 355. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, February 7. 1820.

" I have had no letter from you these two months ;
but since I came here in December, 1819, I sent
you a letter for Moore, who is God knows where —

* The word here, being under the seal, is illegible.

1820.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 279

in Paris or London, I presume. I have copied and
cut the third Canto of Don Juan into two, because it
was too long ; and I tell you this beforehand, because
in case of any reckoning between you and me, these
two are only to go for one, as this was the original
form, and, in fact, the two together are not longer
than one of the first : so remember that I have not
made this division to double upon you ; but merely
to suppress some tediousness in the aspect of the
thing. I should have served you a pretty trick if I
had sent you, for example, cantos of 50 stanzas
each.

" I am translating the first Canto of Pulci's Mor-
gante Maggiore, and have half done it ; but these
last days of the Carnival confuse and interrupt every
thing.

" I have not yet sent off the Cantos, and have
some doubt whether they ought to be published, for
they have not the spirit of the first. The outcry
has not frightened but it has hurt me, and I have not
written con amore this time. It is very decent, how-
ever, and as dull as ' the last new comedy.'

" I think my translations of Pulci will make you
stare. It must be put by the original, stanza for
stanza, and verse for verse ; and you will see what
was permitted in a Catholic country and a bigoted
age to a churchman, on the score of religion ; — and
so tell those buffoons who accuse me of attacking the
Liturgy.

" I write in the greatest haste, it being the hour
of the Corso, and I must go and buffoon with the
rest. My daughter Allegra is just gone with the
T 4

280 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

Countess G. in Count G.'s coach and six to join the
cavalcade, and I must follow with all the rest of the
Ravenna world. Our old Cardinal is dead, and the
new one not appointed yet ; but the masquing goes
on the same, the vice-legate being a good governor.
We have had hideous frost and snow, but all is mild
again.

« Yours," &c.

LETTER 356. TO MR. BANKES.

" Ravenna, February 19. 1820.

" I have room for you in the house here, as I had
in Venice, if you think fit to make use of it; but do
not expect to find the same gorgeous suite of tapes-
tried halls. Neither dangers nor tropical heats have
ever prevented your penetrating wherever you had
a mind to it, and why should the snow now ? —
Italian snow — fie on it ! — so pray come. Tita's
heart yearns for you, and mayhap for your silver
broad pieces ; and your playfellow, the monkey, is
alone and inconsolable.

" I forget whether you admire or tolerate red hair,
so that I rather dread showing you all that I have
about me and around me in this city. Come, never-
theless, — you can pay Dante a morning visit, and I
will undertake that Theodore and Honoria will be
most happy to see you in the forest hard by. We
Goths, also, of Ravenna, hope you will not despise
our arch-Goth, Theodoric. I must leave it to these
worthies to entertain you all the fore part of the
day, seeing that I have none at all myself — the

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 281

lark that rouses me from my slumbers, being an
afternoon bird. But, then, all your evenings, and as
much as you can give me of your nights, will be
mine. Ay ! and you will find me eating flesh, too,
like yourself or any other cannibal, except it be
upon Fridays. Then, there are more Cantos (and
be d — d to them) of what the courteous reader, Mr.

S , calls Grub Street, in my drawer, which I

have a little scheme to commit to your charge for
England ; only I must first cut up (or cut down)
two aforesaid Cantos into three, because I am grown
base and mercenary, and it is an ill precedent to let
my Mecaenas, Murray, get too much for his money.
I am busy, also, with Pulci — translating — servilely
translating, stanza for stanza, and line for line —
two octaves every night, — the same allowance as at
Venice.

" Would you call at your banker's at Bologna, and
ask him for some letters lying there for me, and
burn them ? — or I will — so do not burn them, but
bring them, — and believe me ever and very affec-
tionately Yours,

" BYRON.

" P. S. I have a particular wish to hear from your-
self something about Cyprus, so pray recollect all
that you can. — Good night."

LETTER 357. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, February 21. 1820.

" The bull-dogs will be very agreeable. I have
only those of this country, who, though good, have

282 NOTICES OF THE 1520

not the tenacity of tooth and stoicism in endurance
of my canine fellow-citizens : then pray send them
by the readiest conveyance — perhaps best by sea.
Mr. Kinnaird will disburse for them, and deduct
from the amount on your application or that of Cap-
tain Tyler.

" I see the good old King is gone to his place.
One can't help being sorry, though blindness, and
age, and insanity, are supposed to be drawbacks on
human felicity ; but I am not at all sure that the
latter, at least, might not render him happier than
any of his subjects.

w I have no thoughts of coming to the coronation,
though I should like to see it, and though I have a
right to be a puppet in it; but my division with
Lady Byron, which has drawn an equinoctial line
between me and mine in all other things, will operate
in this also to prevent my being in the same proces-
sion.

" By Saturday's post I sent you four packets, con-
taining Cantos third and fourth. Recollect that
these two cantos reckon only as one with you and
me, being, in fact, the third canto cut into two, be-
cause I found it too long. Remember this, and don't
imagine that there could be any other motive. The
whole is about 225 stanzas, more or less, and a lyric
of 96 lines, so that they are no longer than the first
single cantos : but the truth is, that I made the first
too long, and should have cut those down also had I
thought better. Instead of saying in future for so
many cantos, say so many stanzas or pages : it was
Jacob Tonson's way, and certainly the best; it

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 283

prevents mistakes. I might have sent you a dozen
cantos of 40 stanzas each, — those of ' The Min-
strel' (Beattie's) are no longer, — and ruined you at
once, if you don't suffer as it is. But recollect that
you are not pinned down to any thing you say in a
letter, and that, calculating even these two cantos as
one only (which they were and are to be reckoned),
you are not bound by your offer. Act as may seem
fair to all parties.

" I have finished my translation of the first Canto
of * The Morgante Maggiore' of Pulci, which I will
transcribe and send. It is the parent, not only of
Whistlecraft, but of all jocose Italian poetry. You
must print it side by side with the original Italian,
because I wish the reader to judge of the fidelity: it
is stanza for stanza, and often line for line, if not
word for word.

" You ask me for a volume of manners, &c. on
Italy. Perhaps I am in the case to know more of
them than most Englishmen, because I have lived
among the natives, and in parts of the country where
Englishmen never resided before (I speak of Ro-
magna and this place particularly) ; but there are
many reasons why I do not choose to treat in print
on such a subject. I have lived in their houses and
in the heart of their families, sometimes merely as
* amico di casa,' and sometimes as ' amico di cuore *
of the Dama, and in neither case do I feel myself
authorised in making a book of them. Their moral
is not your moral ; their life is not your life ; you
would not understand it ; it is not English, nor
French, nor German, which you would all under <•

284« NOTICES OF THE 1820.

stand. The conventual education, the cavalier ser-
vitude, the habits of thought and living are so entirely
different, and the difference becomes so much more
striking the more you live intimately with them, that
I know not how to make you comprehend a people
who are at once temperate and profligate, serious in
their characters and buffoons in their amusements,
capable of impressions and passions, which are at
once sudden: and durable (what you find in no other
nation), and who actually have no society (what we
would call so), as you may see by their comedies ;
they have no real comedy, not even in Goldoni, and
that is because they have no society to draw it from.

" Their conversazioni are not society at all. They
go to the theatre to talk, and into company to hold
their tongues. The women sit in a circle, and the
men gather into groups, or they play at dreary faro,
or * lotto reale,' for small sums. Their academic
are concerts like our own, with better music and
more form. Their best things are the carnival balls
and masquerades, when every body runs mad for six
weeks. After their dinners and suppers they make
extempore verses and buffoon one another ; but it is
in a humour which you would not enter into, ye of
the north.

" In their houses it is better. I should know some-
thing of the matter, having had a pretty general
experience among their women, from the fisherman's
wife up to the Nobil Dama, whom I serve. Their
system has its rules, and its fitnesses, and its deco-
rums, so as to be reduced to a kind of discipline or
game at hearts, which admits few deviations, unless

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 285

you wish to lose it. They are extremely tenacious,
and jealous as furies, not permitting their lovers even
to marry if they can help it, and keeping them always
close to them in public as in private, whenever they
can. In short, they transfer marriage to adultery,
and strike the not out of that commandment. The
reason is, that they marry for their parents, and love
for themselves. They exact fidelity from a lover as
a debt of honour, while they pay the husband as a
tradesman, that is, not at all. You hear a person's
character, male or female, canvassed not as depend-
ing on their conduct to their husbands or wives, but
to their mistress or lover. If I wrote a quarto, I
don't know that I could do more than amplify what
I have here noted. It is to be observed that while
they do all this, the greatest outward respect is to
be paid to the husbands, not only by the ladies, but
by their Serventi — particularly if the husband serves
no one himself (which is not often the case, however);
so that you would often suppose them relations — the
Servente making the figure of one adopted into the
family. Sometimes the ladies run a little restive and
elope, or divide, or make a scene : but this is at
starting, generally, when they know no better, or
when they fall in love with a foreigner, or some such
anomaly, — and is always reckoned unnecessary and
extravagant.

" You enquire after Dante's Prophecy : I have not
done more than six hundred lines, but will vaticinate
at leisure.

" Of the bust I know nothing. No cameos or seals
are to be cut here or elsewhere that I know of, in

286 NOTICES OF THE

1820.

any good style. Hobhouse should write himself to
Thorwaldsen : the bust was made and paid for three
years ago.

" Pray tell Mrs. Leigh to request Lady Byron to
urge forward the transfer from the funds. I wrote
to Lady Byron on business this post, addressed to
the care of Mr. D. Kinnaird."

LETTER 358. TO MR. BANKES.

" Ravenna, February 26. 1820.

" Pulci and I are waiting for you with impatience ;
but I suppose we must give way to the attraction of
the Bolognese galleries for a time. I know nothing
of pictures myself, and care almost as little : but to
me there are none like the Venetian — above all,
Giorgione. I remember well his Judgment of Solo-
mon in the Mariscalchi in Bologna. The real mo-
ther is beautiful, exquisitely beautiful. Buy her,
by all means, if you can, and take her home with
you : put her in safety : for be assured there are
troublous times brewing for Italy ; and as I never
could keep out of a row in my life, it will be my fate*
I dare say, to be over head and ears in it ; but no
matter, these are the stronger reasons for coming to
see me soon.

" I have more of Scott's novels (for surely they
are Scott's) since we met, and am more and more
delighted. I think that I even prefer them to his
poetry, which (by the way) I redde for the first time
in my life in your rooms in Trinity College.

" There are some curious commentaries on Dante

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 287

preserved here, which you should see. Believe me
ever, faithfully and most affectionately, yours," &c.

LETTER 359. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, March 1. 1820.

" I sent you by last post the translation of the
first Canto of the Morgante Maggiore, and wish you
to ask Rose about the word * sbergo,' L e. ' usbergo,'
which I have translated cuirass. I suspect that it
means helmet also. Now, if so, which of the senses
is best accordant with the text? I have adopted
cuirass, but will be amenable to reasons. Of the
natives, some say one, and some t'other : but they
are no great Tuscans in Romagna. However, I will
ask Sgricci (the famous improvisatore) to-morrow,
who is a native of Arezzo. The Countess Guiccioli
who is reckoned a very cultivated young lady, and
the dictionary, say cuirass. I have written cuirass,
but helmet runs in my head nevertheless — and will
run in verse very well, whilk is the principal point.
I will ask the Sposa Spina Spinelli, too, the Florentine
bride of Count Gabriel Rusponi, just imported from
Florence, and get the sense out of somebody.

" I have just been visiting the new Cardinal, who
arrived the day before yesterday in his legation. He
seems a good old gentleman, pious and simple, and
not quite like his predecessor, who was a bon-vivant,
in the worldly sense of the words.

" Enclosed is a letter which I received some time
ago from Dallas. It will explain itself. I have not
answered it. This comes of doing people good. At

5288 NOTICES OF THE ] 820.

one time or another (including copyrights) this per-
son has had about fourteen hundred pounds of my
money, and he writes what he calls a posthumous
work about me, and a scrubby letter accusing me of
treating him ill, when I never did any such thing.
It is true that Heft off letter-writing, as I have done
with almost everybody else ; but I can't see how that
was misusing him.

" I look upon his epistle as the consequence of my
not sending him another hundred pounds, which
he wrote to me for about two years ago, and which
I thought proper to withhold, he having had his
share, methought, of what I could dispone upon
others.

" In your last you ask me after my articles of
domestic wants ; I believe they are as usual : the
bull-dogs, magnesia, soda-powders, tooth-powders,
brushes, and every thing of the kind which are here
unattainable. You still ask me to return to England :
alas ! to what purpose ? You do not know what
you are requiring. Return I must, probably, some
day or other (if I live), sooner or later ; but it will
not be for pleasure, nor can it end in good. You
enquire after my health and SPIRITS in large letters:
my health can't be very bad, for I cured myself of a
sharp tertian ague, in three weeks, with cold water,
which had held my stoutest gondolier for months,
notwithstanding all the bark of the apothecary, — a
circumstance which surprised Dr. Aglietti, who said
it was a proof of great stamina, particularly in so
epidemic a season. I did it out of dislike to the
taste of bark (which [ can't bear), and succeeded,

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 289

contrary to the prophecies of every body, by simply
taking nothing at all. As to spirits, they are un-
equal, now high, now low, like other people's I
suppose, and depending upon circumstances.

" Pray send me W. Scott's new novels. What are
their names and characters ? I read some of his
former ones, at least once a day, for an hour or so.
The last are too hurried : he forgets Ravenswood's
name, and calls him Edgar and then Norman; and
Girder, the cooper, is styled now Gilbert, and now
John ; and he don't make enough of Montrose ; but
Dalgetty is excellent, and so is Lucy Ashton, and
the b — h her mother. What is Ivanhoe 9 and what
do you call his other ? are there two ? Pray make
him write at least two a year : I like no reading so
well.

" The editor of the Bologna Telegraph has sent
me a paper with extracts from Mr. Mulock's (his
name always reminds me of Muley Moloch of
Morocco) * Atheism answered,' in which there is a
long eulogium of my poesy, and a great * compati-
mento' for my misery. I never could understand
what they mean by accusing me of irreligion. How-
ever, they may have it their own way. This gentle-
man seems to be my great admirer, so I take what
he says in good part, as he evidently intends kind-
ness, to which I can't accuse myself of being invin
rible.

" Yours," (Nrc.

VOL. \\,

290 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

LETTER 360. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, March 5. 182O.

" In case, in your country, you should not readily
lay hands on the Morgante Maggiore, I send you the
original text of the first Canto, to correspond with
the translation which I sent you a few days ago. It
is from the Naples edition in quarto of 1732, —
dated Florence, however, by a trick of the trade,
which you, as one of the allied sovereigns of the
profession, will perfectly understand without any
further spiegazione.

" It is strange that here nobody understands the
real precise meaning of ' sbergo,' or { usbergo V an
old Tuscan word, which I have rendered cuirass (but
am not sure it is not helmet). I have asked at least
twenty people, learned and ignorant, male and
female, including poets, and officers civil and military.
The dictionary says cuirass, but gives no authority ;
and a female friend of mine says positively cuirass,
which makes me doubt the fact still more than before.
Ginguene says l bonnet de fer,' with the usual
superficial decision of a Frenchman, so that I can't
believe him : and what between the dictionary, the
Italian woman, and the Frenchman, there's no trust-
ing to a word they say. The context, too, which
should decide, admits equally of either meaning, as
you will perceive. Ask Rose, Hobhouse, Merivale,
and Foscolo, and vote with the majority. Is Frere

* It has been suggested to me that usbergo is obviously th<,
same as hauberk, habergeon, &c. all from the German haU-
berg, or covering of the neck.

1320. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 291

a good Tuscan ? if he be, bother him too. I have
tried, you see, to be as accurate as I well could.
This is my third or fourth letter, or packet, within
the last twenty days."

LETTER 361. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, March 14. 1820.

" Enclosed is Dante's Prophecy — Vision — or
what not. * Where I have left more than one
reading (which I have done often), you may adopt
that which GifFord, Frere, Rose, and Hobhouse, and
others of your Utican Senate think the best or least
bad. The preface will explain all that is explicable.
These are but the four first cantos : if approved,
I will go on. ,

" Pray mind in printing ; and let some good Italian
scholar correct the Italian quotations.

" Four days ago I was overturned in an open car-
riage between the river and a steep bank : — wheels
dashed to pieces, slight bruises, narrow escape, and
all that ; but no harm done, though coachman, foot-
man, horses, and vehicle, were all mixed together
like macaroni. It was owing to bad driving, as I
say ; but the coachman swears to a stait on the part
of the horses. We went against a post on the verge

* There were in this Poem, originally, three lines of remark-
able strength and severity, which, as the Italian poet against
whom they were directed was then living, were omitted ia
the publication. I shall here give them from memory.
" The prostitution of his Muse and wife,
Both beautiful, and both by him debased,
Shall salt his bread and give him means of life."

u 2

292 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

of a steep bank, and capsized. I usually go out of the
town in a carriage, and meet the saddle horses at the
bridge ; it was in going there that we boggled ; but
I got my ride, as usual, after the accident. They say
here it was all owing to St. Antonio of Padua, (serious,
I assure you,) — who does thirteen miracles a day,
— that worse did not come of it. I have no objec-
tion to this being his fourteenth in the four-and-
twenty-hours. He presides over overturns and all
escapes therefrom, it seems : and they dedicate
pictures, &c. to him, as the sailors once did to Nep-
tune, after « the high Roman fashion.'

" Yours, in haste."

LETTER 362. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, March 20. 1820.

" Last post I sent you * The Vision of Dante,' —
four first Cantos. Enclosed you will find, line for
line, in third rhyme (terza rima), of which your British
blackguard reader as yet understands nothing, Fanny
of Rimini. You know that she was born here, and
married, and slain, from Gary, Boyd, and such
people. I have done it into cramp English, line for
line, and rhyme for rhyme, to try the possibility.
You had best append it to the poems already sent
by last three posts. I shall not allow you to play
the tricks you did last year, with the prose you post'
scribed to Mazeppa, which I sent to you not to be
published, if not in a periodical paper, — and there
you tacked it, without a word of explanation. If this
is published, publish it with the original, and together

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 293

with the Pulci translation, or the Da?ite imitation.
I suppose you have both by now, and the Juan long
before.

« FRANCESCA OF RIMINI.
" Translation from the Inferno of Dante, Canto 5tk.

** ' The land where I was born sits by the seas,
Upon that shore to which the Po descends,
With all his followers, in search of peace.

Love, which the gentle heart soon apprehends,
Seized him for the fair person which was ta'en
From me, and me even yet the mode offends.

Love, who to none beloved to love again

Remits, seized me with wish to please, so strong,
That, as thou seest, yet, yet it doth remain.

Love to one death conducted us along,

But Caina waits for him our life who ended : '
These were the accents utter 'd by her tongue,

Since first I listen'd to these souls offended,
I bow'd my visage and so kept it till —

C then "|

' What think'st thou ? ' said the bard ; |_ when J I un-
bended,

And recommenced : * Alas ! unto such ill

How many sweet thoughts, what strong ecstasies
Led these their evil fortune to fulfil ! '

And then I turn'd unto their side my eyes,
And said, * Francesca, thy sad destinies
Have made me sorrow till the tears arise.

But tell me, in the season of sweet sighs,
By what and how thy Love to Passion rose,
So as his dim desires to recognise?*

Then she to me : * The greatest of all woes

f recall to mind ~l
Is to \_ remind us of J our happy days

rn&\

In misery, and \ that J thy teacher knows.
U 3

294 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

But if to learn our passion's first root preys

Upon thy spirit with such sympathy,
p relate ~\

I will j_ do * even J as he who weeps and says. •

We read one day for pastime, seated nigh,

Of Lancilot, how Love enchain'd him too.

We were alone, quite unsuspiciously,
But oft our eyes met, and our cheeks in hue

All o'er discolour'd by that reading were j

C overthrew ~\

But one point only wholly \ us o'erthrew; J

f desired ~l

When we read the {_ long-sighed-for J smile of her,
r a fervent ~\

To be thus kiss'd by such (_ devoted J lover,

He who from me can be divided ne'er
Kiss'd my mouth, trembling in the act all over.

Accursed was the book and he who wrote !

That day no further leaf we did uncover.

While thus one Spirit told us of their lot,

The other wept, so that with pity's thralls

I swoonrd as if by death I had been smote,
And fell down even as a dead body falls.' "

LETTER 363. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Ravenna, March 23. 1820.

" I have received your letter of the 7th. Besides
the four packets you have already received, I have
sent the Pulci a few days after, and since (a few days
ago) the four first Cantos of Dante's Prophecy, (the

* « In some of the editions, it is, ' diro,' in others « faro ; '
— an essential difference between ' saying' and ' doing,' which
I know not how to decide. Ask Foscolo. The d — d editions
drive me mad."

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 295

best thing I ever wrote, if it be not unintelligible,)
and by last post a literal translation, word for word
(versed like the original), of the episode of Francesca
of Rimini. I want to hear what you think of the
new Juans, and the translations, and the Vision.
They are all things that are, or ought to be, very
different from one another.

" If you choose to make a print from the Venetian,
you may; but she don't correspond at all to the
character you mean her to represent. On the con-
trary, the Contessa G. does (except that she is fair),
and is much prettier than the Fornarina ; but I have
no picture of her except a miniature, which is very
ill done ; and, besides, it would not be proper, on
any account whatever, to make such a use of it, even
if you had a copy.

" Recollect that the two new Cantos only count
with us for one. You may put the Pulci and Dante
together : perhaps that were best. So you have put
your name to Juan, after all your panic. You are a
rare fellow. I must now put myself in a passion to
continue my prose. Yours," &c.

" I have caused write to Thorwaldsen. Pray be
careful in sending my daughter's picture — I mean,
that it be not hurt in the carriage, for it is a journey
rather long and jolting."

LETTER 364. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, March 28. 1820.

" Enclosed is a * Screed of Doctrine' for you, of
which I will trouble you to acknowledge the receipt
u 4

296 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

by next post. Mr. Hobhouse must have the cor-
rection of it for the press. You may show it first to
whom you please.

" I wish to know what became of my two Epistles
from St. Paul (translated from the Armenian three

years ago and more), and of the letter to R ts of

last autumn, which you never have attended to?
There are two packets with this.

" P. S. I have some thoughts of publishing the
' Hints from Horace,' written ten years ago *, — if
Hobhouse can rummage them out of my papers left
at his father's, — with some omissions and altera-
tions previously to be made when I see the proofs."

LETTER 365. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, March 29. 1820.

" Herewith you will receive a note (enclosed) on
Pope, which you will find tally with a part of the
text of last post. I have at last lost all patience
with the atrocious cant and nonsense about Pope,
with which our present * * s are overflowing, and

* When making the observations which occur in the early
part of this work, on the singular preference given by the
noble author to the " Hints from Horace," I was not aware
of the revival of this strange predilection, which (as it appears
from the above letter, and, still more strongly, from some that
follow) took place so many years after, in the full maturity of
his powers and taste. Such a delusion is hardly conceivable,
and can only, perhaps, be accounted for by that tenaciousness
of early opinions and impressions by which his mind, in other
respects so versatile, was characterised.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 297

am determined to make such head against it as an
individual can, by prose or verse ; and I will at
least do it with good will. There is no bearing it
any longer ; and if it goes on, it will destroy what
little good writing or taste remains amongst us. I
hope there are still a few men of taste to second
me ; but if not, I'll battle it alone, convinced that it
is in the best cause of English literature.

" I have sent you so many packets, verse and
prose, lately, that you will be tired of the postage, if
not of the perusal. I want to answer some parts of
your last letter, but I have not time, for I must
' boot and saddle,' as my Captain Craigengelt (an
officer of the old Napoleon Italian army) is in wait-
ing, and my groom and cattle to boot.

" You have given me a screed of metaphor and
what not about Pulci, and manners, and ' going
without clothes, like our Saxon ancestors.' Now,
the Saxons did not go without clothes ; and, in the
next place, they are not my ancestors, nor yours
either ; for mine were Norman, and yours, I take i
by your name, were Gael. And, in the next, I
differ from you about the c refinement ' which has
banished the comedies of Congreve. Are not the
comedies of Sheridan acted to the thinnest houses ?
I know (as ex-committed] that * The School for Scan-
dal' was the worst stock piece upon record. I
also know that Congreve gave up writing because
Mrs. Centlivre's balderdash drove his comedies off.
So it is not decency, but stupidity, that does all this ;
for Sheridan is as decent a writer as need be, and
Congreve no worse than Mrs. Centlivre, of whom

NOTICES OF THE 1820.

•

Wilks (the actor) said, * not only her play would be
damned, but she too.' He alluded to « A Bold
Stroke for a Wife.' But last, and most to the pur-
pose, Pulci is not an indecent writer — at least in
his first Canto, as you will have perceived by this
time.

" You talk of refinement : — are you all more
moral ? are you so moral ? No such thing. / know
what the world is in England, by my own proper ex-
perience of the best of it — at least of the loftiest;
and I have described it every where as it is to be
found in all places.

" But to return. I should like to see the proofs
of mine answer, because there will be something to
omit or to alter. But pray let it be carefully
printed. When convenient let me have an answer.

" Yours."

LETTER 366. TO MR. HOPPNER.

ft Ravenna, March 31. 1820.

" Ravenna continues much the same as I de-
scribed it. Conversazioni all Lent, and much better
ones than any at Venice. There are small games at
hazard, that is, faro, where nobody can point more
than a shilling or two ; — other card-tables, and as
much talk and coffee as you please. Every body
does and says what they please ; and I do not recol-
lect any disagreeable events, except being three
times falsely accused of flirtation, and once being
robbed of six sixpences by a nobleman of the city, a
Count * * *. I did not suspect the illustrious

1820.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

299

delinquent ; but the Countess V * * * and the
Marquis L * * * told me of it directly, and also that
it was a way he had, of filching money when he
saw it before him ; but I did not ax him for the
cash, but contented myself with telling him that if
he did it again, I should anticipate the law.

" There is to be a theatre in April, and a fair, and
an opera, and another opera in June, besides the
fine weather of nature's giving, and the rides in the
Forest of Pine. With my best respects to Mrs.
Hoppner, believe me ever, &c. BYRON.

" P. S. Could you give me an item of what
books remain at Venice ? I don't want them, but
want to know whether the few that are not here
are there, and were not lost by the way. I hope
and trust you have got all your wine safe, and that
it is drinkable. Allegra is prettier, 1 think, but as
obstinate as a mule, and as ravenous as a vulture :
health good, to judge of the complexion — temper
tolerable, but for vanity and pertinacity. She thinks
herself handsome, and will do as she pleases."

LETTER 367. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, April 9. 1820.

" In the name of all the devils in the printing-
office, why don't you write to acknowledge the re-
ceipt of the second, third, and fourth packets, viz.
the Pulci translation and original, the I)anticles, the
Observations on, &c. ? You forget that you keep
me in hot water till I know whether they are arrived,
or if 1 must have the bore of re-copying.

300 NOTICES OF THE 1S£0.

" Have you gotten the cream of translations,
Francesca of Rimini, from the Inferno? Why, I
have sent you a warehouse of trash within the last
month, and you have no sort of feeling about you :
a pastry-cook would have had twice the gratitude,
and thanked me at least for the quantity.

" To make the letter heavier, I enclose you the
Cardinal Legate's (our Campeius) circular for his
conversazione this evening. It is the anniversary
of the Pope's ft'ara-tion, and all polite Christians,
even of the Lutheran creed, must go and be civil.
And there will be a circle, and a faro-table, (for
shillings, that is, they don't allow high play,) and
all the beauty, nobility, and sanctity of Ravenna
present. The Cardinal himself is a very good-
natured little fellow, bishop of Muda, and legate
here, — a decent believer in all the doctrines of the
church. He has kept his housekeeper these forty
years * * * * ; but is reckoned a pious man, and a
moral liver.

" I am not quite sure that I won't be among you
this autumn, for I find that business don't go on
— what with trustees and lawyers — as it should do,
' with all deliberate speed.' They differ about in-
vestments in Ireland.

" Between the devil and deep sea,
Between the lawyer and trustee,

I am puzzled ; and so much time is lost by my not
being upon the spot, what with answers, demurs,
rejoinders, that it may be I must come and look to
it ; for one says do, and t'other don't, so that I know

1820.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 301

not which way to turn : but perhaps they can
manage without me.

« Yours, &c.

" P. S. I have begun a tragedy on the subject
of Marino Faliero, the Doge of Venice ; but you
sha'n't see it these six years, if you don't acknow-
ledge my packets with more quickness and pre-
cision. Always write, if but a line, by return of
post, when any thing arrives, which is not a mere
letter.

" Address direct to Ravenna ; it saves a week's
time, and much postage."

LETTER 368. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, April 16. 1820.

" Post after post arrives without bringing any
acknowledgment from you of the different packets
(excepting the first) which I sent within the last two
months, all of which ought to be arrived long ere
now ; and as they were announced in other letters,
you ought at least to say whether they are come or
not. You are not expected to write frequent, or
long letters, as your time is much occupied; but
when parcels that have cost some pains in the com-
position, and great trouble in the copying, are sent
to you, I should at least be put out of suspense, by
the immediate acknowledgment, per return of post,
addressed directly to Ravenna. I am naturally —
knowing what continental posts are — anxious to
hear that they are arrived ; especially as I loathe the
task of copying so much, that if there was a human

302 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

being that could copy my blotted MSS. he should
have all they can ever bring for his trouble. All I
desire is two lines, to say, such a day I received such
a packet. There are at least six unacknowledged.
This is neither kind nor courteous.

" I have, besides, another reason for desiring
you to be speedy, which is, that there is THAT brew-
ing in Italy which will speedily cut off all security
of communication, and set all your Anglo-travellers
flying in every direction, with their usual fortitude
in foreign tumults. The Spanish and French affairs
have set the Italians in a ferment ; and no wonder :
they have been too long trampled on. This will
make a sad scene for your exquisite traveller, but
not for the resident, who naturally wishes a people
to redress itself. I shall, if permitted by the natives,
remain to see what will come of it, and perhaps to
take a turn with them, like Dugald Dalgetty and
his horse, in case of business ; for I shall think it
by far the most interesting spectacle and moment
in existence, to see the Italians send the barbarians
of al} nations back to their own dens. I have lived
long enough among them to feel more for them as
a nation than for any other people in existence. But
they want union, and they want principle ; and I
doubt their success. However, they will try, pro-
bably, and if they do, it will be a good cause. No
Italian can hate an Austrian more than I do : unless
it be the English, the Austrians seem to me the
most obnoxious race under the sky.

" But I doubt, if any thing be done, it won't be
so quietly as in Spain. To be sure, revolutions are

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 303

not to be made with rose-water, where there are
foreigners as masters.

" Write while you can ; for it is but the toss up of
a paul that there will not be a row that will some-
what retard the mail by and by.

« Yours," &c.

LETTER 369. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" Ravenna, April 18. 1820.

" I have caused write to Siri and Willhalm to
send with Vincenza, in a boat, the camp-beds and
swords left in their care when I quitted Venice.
There are also several pounds of Mantoris best
powder in a Japan case; but unless I felt sure of
getting it away from V. without seizure, I won't
have it ventured. I can get it in here, by means of
an acquaintance in the customs, who has offered to
get it ashore for me; but should like to be certiorated
of its safety in leaving Venice. I would not lose it
for its weight in gold — there is none such in Italy,
as I take it to be.

" I wrote to you a week or so ago, and hope you
are in good plight and spirits. Sir Humphry Davy
is here, and was last night at the Cardinal's. As I
had been there last Sunday, and yesterday was
warm, I did not go, which I should have done, if I
had thought of meeting the man of chemistry. He
called this morning, and I shall go in search of him
at Corso time. I believe to-day, being Monday,
there is no great conversazione, and only the family
one at the Marchese Cavalli's, where I go as ^relation

304 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

sometimes, so that, unless he stays a day or two, we
should hardly meet in public.

" The theatre is to open in May for the fair, if
there is not a row in all Italy by that time, — the
Spanish business has set them all a constitutioning,
and what will be the end, no one knows — it is also
necessary thereunto to have a beginning.

" Yours, &c.

" P. S. My benediction to Mrs. Hoppner. How
is your little boy? Allegra is growing, and has
increased in good looks and obstinacy."

LETTER 370. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, April 23. 1820.

" The proofs don't contain the last stanzas of
Canto second, but end abruptly with the 105th
stanza.

" I told you long ago that the new Cantos * were
not good, and I also told you a reason. Recollect, I
do not oblige you to publish them ; you may sup-
press them, if you like, but I can alter nothing. 1
have erased the six stanzas about those two impostors
* * * * (which I suppose will give you
great pleasure), but I can do no more. I can
neither recast, nor replace ; but I give you leave to
put it all into the fire, if you like, or not to publish,
and I think that's sufficient.

" I told you that I wrote on with no good will —
that I had been, not frightened, but hurt by the
outcry, and, besides, that when I wrote last November,

* Of Don Juan.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. S0i»

I was ill in body, and in very great distress of mind
about some private things of my own; but you
would have it : so I sent it to you, and to make it
lighter, cut it in two — but I can't piece it together
again. I can't cobble : I must ' either make a spoon
or spoil a horn,' — and there's an end; for there's
no remeid : but I leave you free will to suppress the
whole, if you like it.

" About the Morgante Maggiore, I won't have a
line omitted. It may circulate, or it may not ; but
all the criticism on earth sha'n't touch a line, unless
it be because it is badly translated. Now you say,
and I say, and others say, that the translation is a
good one ; and so it shall go to press as it is. Pulci
must answer for his own irreligion : I answer for the
translation only.

" Pray let Mr. Hobhouse look to the Italian next
time in the proofs : this time, while I am scribbling
to you, they are corrected by one who passes for
the prettiest woman in Romagna, and even the
Marches, as far as Ancona, be the other who she
may.

" I am glad you like my answer to your enquiries
about Italian society. It is fit you should like
something, and be d — d to you.

« My love to Scott. I shall think higher of
knighthood ever after for his being dubbed. By
the way, he is the first poet titled for his talent
in Britain : it has happened abroad before now ; but
on the Continent titles are universal and worthless.
Why don't you send me Ivanhoe and the Monas-
tery ? I have never written to Sir Walter, for I know

VOL. IV X

306 NOTICES OF THE 182O.

he has a thousand things, and I a thousand nothings,
to do ; but I hope to see him at Abbotsford before
very long, and I will sweat his claret for him, though
Italian abstemiousness has made my brain but a
shilpit concern for a Scotch sitting « inter pocula.'
I love Scott, and Moore, and all the better brethren ;
but I hate and abhor that puddle of water-worms
whom you have taken into your troop.

" Yours, &c.

" P. S. You say that one half is very good : you
are wrong ; for, if it were, it would be the finest
poem in existence. Where is the poetry of which
one half is good ? is it the JEneid? is it Milton 's ? is
it Dryden's? is it any one's except Pope's and
Goldsmith's, of which all is good? and yet these
two last are the poets your pond poets would
explode. But if one half of the two new Cantos be
good in your opinion, what the devil would you
have more? No — no; no poetry is generally good
— only by fits and starts — and you are lucky to get
a sparkle here and there. You might as well want
a midnight all stars as rhyme all perfect.

" We are on the verge of a row here. Last night
they have overwritten all the city walls with * Up
with the republic!' and ' Death to the Pope!' &c.
&c. This would be nothing in London, where the
walls are privileged. But here it is a different
thing : they are not used to such fierce political in-
scriptions, and the police is all on the alert, and the
Cardinal glares pale through all his purple.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 307

" April 24. 1820. 8 o'clock, P.M.
" The police have been, all noon and after,
searching for the inscribers, but have caught none
as yet. They must have been all night about it, for
the ' Live republics — Death to Popes and Priests/
are innumerable, and plastered over all the palaces :
ours has plenty. There is ' Down with the Nobility,'
too ; they are down enough already, for that matter.
A very heavy rain and wind having come on, I did
not go out and ' skirr the country;' but I shall
mount to-morrow, and take a canter among the
peasantry, who are a savage, resolute race, always
riding with guns in their hands. I wonder they
don't suspect the serenaders, for they play on the
guitar here all night, as in Spain, to their mistresses.

" Talking of politics, as Caleb Quotem says, pray
look at the conclusion of my Ode on Waterloo,
written in the year 1815, and, comparing it with
the Duke de Berri's catastrophe in 1 820, tell me if
I have not as good a right to the character of
* VateS) in both senses of the word, as Fitzgerald
and Coleridge ?

" l Crimson tears will follow yet — '
and have not they ?

" I can't pretend to foresee what will happen
among you Englishers at this distance, but I vati-
cinate a row in Italy ; in whilk case, I don't know
that I won't have a finger in it. I dislike the
Austrians, and think the Italians infamously op-
pressed ; and if they begin, why, I will recommend
« the erection of a sconce upon Drumsnab,' like
Dugald Dalgetty."

x 2

308 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

LETTER 371. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, May 8. 1820.

•'• From your not having written again, an intention
which your letter of the 7th ultimo indicated, I
have to presume that the t Prophecy of Dante' has
not been found more worthy than its predecessors
in the eyes of your illustrious synod. In that case,
you will be in some perplexity; to end which, 1
repeat to you, that you are not to consider yourself
as bound or pledged to publish any thing because it
is mine, but always to act according to your own
views, or opinions, or those of your friends ; and to
be sure that you will in no degree offend me by
< declining the article,' to use a technical phrase.
The prose observations on John Wilson's attack, I
do not intend for publication at this time; and I
send a copy of verses to Mr. Kinnaird (they were
written last year on crossing the Po) which must
not be published either. I mention this, because it
is probable he may give you a copy. Pray recollect
this, as they are mere verses of society, and written
upon private feelings and passions. And, moreover,
I can't consent to any mutilations or omissions of
Pulci : the original has been ever free from such in
Italy, the capital of Christianity, and the translation
may be so in England; though you will think it
strange that they should have allowed sach freedom
for many centuries to the Morgante, while the other
day they confiscated the whole translation of the
fourth Canto of Childe Harold, and have persecuted
Leoni, the translator — so he writes me, and so I

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 309

could have told him, had he consulted me before
his publication. This shows how much more politics
interest men in these parts than religion. Half a
dozen invectives against tyranny confiscate Childe
Harold in a month ; and eight and twenty cantos of
quizzing monks and knights, and church govern-
ment, are let loose for centuries. I copy Leoni's
account.

" ' Non ignorera forse che la mia versione del
4° Canto del Childe Harold fu confiscata in ogni
parte: ed io stesso ho dovuto soifrir vessazioni
altrettanto ridicole quanto illiberaii, ad arte che
alcuni versi fossero esclusi dalla censura. Ma
siccome il divieto non fa d'ordinario che accrescere
la curiosita cosi quel carme sull' Italia & ricercato
piu che mai, e penso di farlo ristampare in Inghil-
terra senza nulla escludere. Sciagurata condizione
di questa mia patria ! se patria si pud chiamare una
terra cosi avvilita dalla fortuna, dagli uomini, da se
medesima. '

" Rose will translate this to you. Has he had his
letter ? I enclosed it to you months ago.

" This intended piece of publication I shall dis-
suade him from, or he may chance to see the inside
of St. Angelo's. The last sentence of his letter
is the common and pathetic sentiment of all his
countrymen.

" Sir Humphry Davy was here last fortnight, and
I was in his company in the house of a very pretty
Italian lady of rank, who, by way of displaying her
learning in presence of the great chemist, then
describing his fourteenth ascension to Mount Ve-
x 3

310 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

suvius, asked ' if there was not a similar volcano in
Ireland ? ' My only notion of an Irish volcano con-
sisted of the lake of Killarney, which I naturally
conceived her to mean ; but, on second thoughts, I
divined that she alluded to Iceland and to Hecla —
and so it proved, though she sustained her volcanic
topography for some time with all the amiable per-
tinacity of * the feminie.' She soon after turned
to me and asked me various questions about Sir
Humphry's philosophy, and I explained as well as an
oracle his skill in gasen safety lamps, and ungluing
the Pompeian MSS. « But what do you call him?'
said she. ' A great chemist,' quoth I. « What can
he do ? ' repeated the lady. ' Almost any thing,'
said I. < Oh, then, mio caro, do pray beg him to
give me something to dye my eyebrows black. I
have tried a thousand things, and the colours all
come off ; and besides, they don't grow ; can't he
invent something to make them grow?' All this
with the greatest earnestness; and what you will
be surprised at, she is neither ignorant nor a fool,
but really well educated and clever. But they
speak like children, when first out of their con-
vents ; and, after all, this is better than an English
blue -stocking.

" I did not tell Sir Humphry of this last piece
of philosophy, not knowing how he might take it.
Davy was much taken with Ravenna, and the PRIMI-
TIVE Itolianism of the people, who are unused to
foreigners : but he only stayed a day.

" Send me Scott's novels and some news.

" P. S. I have begun and advanced into the second

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 311

act of a tragedy on the subject of the Doge's con-
spiracy (i. e. the story of Marino Faliero) ; but my
present feeling is so little encouraging on such
matters, that I begin to think I have mined my
talent out, and proceed in no great phantasy of
finding a new vein.

" P.S. I sometimes think (if the Italians don't rise)
of coming over to England in the autumn after the
coronation, (at which I would not appear, on ac-
count of my family schism,) but as yet I can decide
nothing. The place must be a great deal changed
since I left it, now more than four years ago."

LETTER 372. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, May 20. 1820.

" Murray, my dear, make my respects to Thomas
Campbell, and tell him from me, with faith and
friendship, three things that he must right in his
poets : Firstly, he says Anstey's Bath Guide cha-
racters are taken from Smollett. 'Tis impossible :
— the Guide was published in 1766, and Humphrey
Clinker in 1771 — dunque, 'tis Smollett who has
taken from Anstey. Secondly, he does not know
to whom Cowper alludes, when he says that there
was one who * built a church to God, and then
blasphemed his name :' it was * Deo erexit Voltaire'
to whom that maniacal Calvinist and coddled poet
alludes. Thirdly, he misquotes and spoils a passage
from Shakspeare, < to gild refined gold, to paint the
lily,' &c. ; for lily he puts rose, and bedevils in more
words than one the whole quotation.
x 4-

S12 .NOTICES OF THE 1820.

" Now, Tom is a fine fellow ; but he should be
correct ; for the first is an injustice (to Anstey), the
second an ignorance, and the third a blunder. Tell
him all this, and let him take it in good part ; for I
might have rammed it into a review and rowed him
— instead of which, I act like a Christian.

" Yours," &c.

LETTER 373. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Ravenna, May 20. 1820.

" First and foremost, you must forward my letter
to Moore dated 2d January, which I said you might
open, but desired you to forward. Now, you should
really not forget these little things, because they do
mischief among friends. You are an excellent man,
a great man, and live among great men, but do pray
recollect your absent friends and authors.

" In the first place, your packets ; then a letter
from Kinnaird, on the most urgent business ; another
from Moore, about a communication to Lady Byron
of importance ; a fourth from the mother of Allegra;
and, fifthly, at Ravenna, the Countess G. is on the
eve of being separated. But the Italian public are
on her side, particularly the women, — and the men
also, because they say that he had no business to
take the business up now after a year of toleration.
All her relations (who are numerous, high in rank,
and powerful) are furious against him for his con-
duct. I am warned to be on my guard, as he is very
capable of employing sicarii — this is Latin as well
as Italian, so you can understand it ; but I have arms,

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 313

and don't mind them, thinking that I could pepper
his ragamuffins, if they don't come unawares, and
that, if they do, one may as well end that way
as another ; and it would besides serve you as an
advertisement : —

" Man may escape from rope or gun, &c.

But he who takes woman, woman, woman, &c.

« Yours.

" P. S. I have looked over the press, but heaven
knows how. Think what I have on hand and the
post going out to-morrow. Do you remember the
epitaph on Voltaire ?

" « Ci-git 1'enfant gate",' &c.

« « Here lies the spoilt child

Of the world which he spoil'd.'

The original is in Grimm and Diderot, &c. &c. &c."

LETTER 374. TO MR. MOORE.

« Ravenna, May 24. 1820.

" I wrote to you a few days ago. There is also
a letter of January last for you at Murray's, which
will explain to you why I am here. Murray ought
to have forwarded it long ago. I enclose you an
epistle from a countrywoman of yours at Paris,
which has moved my entrails. You will have
the goodness, perhaps, to enquire into the truth
of her story, and I will help her as far as I can, —
though not in the useless way she proposes. Her
letter is evidently unstudied, and so natural, that
the orthography is also in a state of nature.

314 NOTICES OF THE J820.

" Here is a poor creature, ill and solitary, who
thinks, as a last resource, of translating you or me
into French I Was there ever such a notion ? It
seems to me the consummation of despair. Pray
enquire, and let me know, and, if you could draw
a bill on me here for a few hundred francs, at your
banker's, I will duly honour it, — that is, if she is
not an impostor. * If not, let me know, that I may
get something remitted by my banker Longhi, of
Bologna, for I have no correspondence myself, at
Paris : but tell her she must not translate ; — if she
does, it will be the height of ingratitude.

" I had a letter (not of the same kind, but in
French and flattery) from a Madame Sophie Gail,
of Paris, whom I take to be the spouse of a Gallo-
Greek of that name. Who is she ? and what is she ?
and how came she to take an interest in my poeshie
or its author ? If you know her, tell her, with my
compliments, that, as I only read French, I have
not answered her letter ; but would have done so
in Italian, if I had not thought it would look like an
affectation. I have just been scolding my monkey

* According to his desire, I waited upon this young lady,
having provided myself with a rouleau of fifteen or twenty
Napoleons to present to her from his Lordship ; but, with a
very creditable spirit, my young countrywoman declined the
gift, saying that Lord Byron had mistaken the object of her
application to him, which was to request that, by allowing her
to have the sheets of some of his works before publication, he
would enable her to prepare early translations for the French
booksellers, and thus afford her the means of acquiring some-
thing towards a livelihood.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 315

for tearing the seal of her letter, and spoiling a
mock book, in which I put rose leaves. I had a
civet-cat the other day, too ; but it ran away, after
scratching my monkey's cheek, and I am in search
of it still. It was the fiercest beast I ever saw, and
like * * in the face and manner.

" I have a world of things to say ; but, as they
are not come to a denouement, I don't care to begin
their history till it is wound up. After you went,
I had a fever, but got well again without bark.
Sir Humphry Davy was here the other day, and
liked Ravenna very much. He will tell you any
thing you may wish to know about the place and
your humble servitor.

" Your apprehensions (arising from Scott's) were
unfounded. There are no damages in this country,
but there will probably be a separation between
them, as her family, which is a principal one, by its
connections, are very much against him, for the
whole of his conduct ; — and he is old and obstinate,
and she is young and a woman, determined to sacri-
fice every thing to her affections. I have given her
the best advice, viz. to stay with him, — pointing
out the state of a separated woman, (for the priests
won't let lovers live openly together, unless the
husband sanctions it,) and making the most ex-
quisite moral reflections, — but to no purpose. She
says, * I will stay with him, if he will let you remain
with me. It is hard that I should be the only
woman in Romagna who is not to have her Amico ;
but, if not, I will not live with him ; and as for the

316 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

consequences, love, &c. &c. &c.' — you know how
females reason on such occasions.

" He says he has let it go on till he can do so no
longer. But he wants her to stay, and dismiss me ;
for he doesn't like to pay back her dowry and to
make an alimony. Her relations are rather for the
separation, as they detest him, — indeed, so does
every body. The populace and the women are, as
usual, all for those who are in the wrong, viz. the
lady and her lover. I should have retreated, but
honour, and an erysipelas which has attacked her,
prevent me, — to say nothing of love, for I love her
most entirely, though not enough to persuade her
to sacrifice every thing to a frenzy. ' I see how it
will end ; she will be the sixteenth Mrs. Shuffleton.'

" My paper is finished, and so must this letter.
" Yours ever, B.

" P. S. I regret that you have not completed the
Italian Fudges. Pray, how come you to be still in
Paris ? Murray has four or five things of mine in
hand — the new Don Juan, which his back-shop
synod don't admire; — a translation of the first
Canto of Pulci's Morgante Maggiore, excellent; —
a short ditto from Dante, not so much approved;
the Prophecy of Dante, very grand and worthy, &c.
&c. &c. ; — a furious prose answer to Blackwood's
Observations on Don Juan, with a savage Defence of
Pope — likely to make a row. The opinions above
I quote from Murray and his Utican senate; — you
will form your own, when you see the things.

" You will have no great chance of seeing me, for

1320. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 317

I begin to think I must finish in Italy. But, if you
come my way, you shall have a tureen of macaroni.
Pray tell me about yourself, and your intents.

" My trustees are going to lend Earl Blessington
sixty thousand pounds (at six per cent.) on a Dublin
mortgage. Only think of my becoming an Irish
absentee ! "

LETTER 375. TO MR. HOPPNER.

" Ravenna, May 25. 1820.

" A German named Ruppsecht has sent me,
heaven knows why, several Deutsche Gazettes, of
all which I understand neither word nor letter. I
have sent you the enclosed to beg you to translate
to me some remarks, which appear to be Goethe's
upon Manfred — and if I may judge by two notes of
admiration (generally put after something ridiculous
by us) and the word ' hypocondrisch,' are any thing
but favourable. I shall regret this, for I should
have been proud of Goethe's good word; but I
sha'n't alter my opinion of him, even though he
should be savage.

" Will you excuse this trouble, and do me this
favour? — Never mind — soften nothing — I am lite-
rary proof — having had good and evil said in most
modern languages.

" Believe me," &c.

LETTER 376. TO MR. MOORE.

" Ravenna, June 1. 1820,

" I have received a Parisian letter from W. W.>
which I prefer answering through you, if that worthy

318 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

be still at Paris, and, as he says, an occasional visiter
of yours. In November last he wrote to me a well-
meaning letter, stating, for some reasons of his own,
his belief that a re-union might be effected between
Lady B. and myself. To this I answered as usual ;
and he sent me a second letter, repeating his
notions, which letter I have never answered, having
had a thousand other things to think of. He now
writes as if he believed that he had offended me by
touching on the topic ; and I wish you to assure him
that I am. not at all so, — but, on the contrary,
obliged by his good nature. At the same time
acquaint him the thing is impossible. You know
this, as well as I, — and there let it end.

" I believe that I showed you his epistle in autumn
last. He asks me if I have heard of my < laureat'
at Paris * , — somebody who has written < a most
sanguinary Epitre' against me ; but whether in
French, or Dutch, or on what score, I know not,
and he don't say, — except that (for my satisfaction)
he says it is the best thing in the fellow's volume.
If there is any thing of the kind that I ought to
know, you will doubtless tell me. I suppose it to
be something of the usual sort; — he says, he don't
remember the author's name.

" I wrote to you some ten days ago, and expect
an answer at your leisure.

" The separation business still continues, and all
the world are implicated, including priests and
cardinals. The public opinion is furious against

* M. Lamartine.

1820.

LIFE OF LORD EYRON. 319

him, because he ought to have cut the matter short
at first, and not waited twelve months to begin.
He has been trying at evidence, but can get none
sufficient; for what would make fifty divorces in
England won't do here — there must be the most
decided proofs.

" It is the first cause of the kind attempted in
Ravenna for these two hundred years ; for, though
they often separate, they assign a different motive.
You know that the continental incontinent are more
delicate than the English, and don't like proclaiming
their coronation in a court, even when nobody
doubts it.

" All her relations are furious against him. The
father has challenged him — a superfluous valour,
for he don't fight, though suspected of two assassi-
nations— one of the famous Monzoni of Forli.
Warning was given me not to take such long rides
in the Pine Forest without being on my guard ; so I
take my stiletto and a pair of pistols in my pocket
during my daily rides.

" I won't stir from this place till the matter is
settled one way or the other. She is as femininely
firm as possible ; and the opinion is so much against
him, that the advocates decline to undertake his
cause, because they say that he is either a fool or a
rogue — fool, if he did not discover the liaison till
now ; and rogue, if he did know it, and waited, for
some bad end, to divulge it. In short, there has
been nothing like it since the days of Guido di
Polenta's family, in these parts.

" If the man has me taken off, like Polonius < say, he

320 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

made a good end,' — for a melodrame. The princi-
pal security is, that he has not the courage to
spend twenty scudi — the average price of a clean-
handed bravo — otherwise there is no want of oppor-
tunity, for I ride about the woods every evening,
with one servant, and sometimes an acquaintance,
who latterly looks a little queer in solitary bits of
bushes.

" Good bye. — Write to yours ever," &c.

LETTER 377. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, June 7. 1820.

" Enclosed is something which will interest you, to
wit, the opinion of the greatest man of Germany —
perhaps of Europe — upon one of the great men of
your advertisements, (all * famous hands,' as Jacob
Tonson used to say of his ragamuffins,) — in short, a
critique of Goethe's upon Manfred. There is the
original, an English translation, and an Italian one ;
keep them all in your archives, — for the opinions of
such a man as Goethe, whether favourable or not,
are always interesting — and this is more so, as
favourable. His Faust I never read, for I don't
know German; but Matthew Monk Lewis, in 1816,
at Coligny, translated most of it to me viva voce,
and I was naturally much struck with it ; but it was
the Steinbach and the Jungfrau, and something
else, much more than Faustus, that made me write
Manfred. The first scene, however, and that of
Faustus are very similar. Acknowledge this letter.

" Yours ever.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 321

" P. S. I have received Ivanhoe ; — good. Pray
send me some tooth-powder and tincture of myrrh,
by White, &c. Ricciardetto should have been trans-
lated literally, or not at all. As to puffing Whistle-
craft, it wont do. I'll tell you why some day or
other. Cornwall's a poet, but spoilt by the detest-
able schools of the day. Mrs. Hemans is a poet
also, but too stiltified and apostrophic, — and quite
wrong. Men died calmly before the Christian era,
and since, without Christianity : witness the Romans,
and, lately, Thistlewood, Sandt, and Lovel — men
who ought to have been weighed down with their
crimes, even had they believed. A deathbed is a
matter of nerves and constitution, and not of reli-
gion. Voltaire was frightened, Frederick of Prussia
not : Christians the same, according to their strength
rather than their creed. What does H * * H * *
mean by his stanza? which is octave got drunk or
gone mad. He ought to have his ears boxed with
Thor's hammer for rhyming so fantastically."

The following is the article from Goethe's " Kunst
und Alterthum," enclosed in this letter. The grave
confidence with which the venerable critic traces the
fancies of his brother poet to real persons and events,
making no difficulty even of a double murder at Flo-
rence to furnish grounds for his theory, affords an
amusing instance of the disposition so prevalent
throughout Europe, to picture Byron as a man of
marvels and mysteries, as well in his life as his
poetry. To these exaggerated, or wholly false no-
tions of him, the numerous fictions palmed upon the

VOL. IV. Y

322 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

world of his romantic tours and wonderful adventures
in places he never saw, and with persons that never
existed *, have, no doubt, considerably contributed ;
and the consequence is, so utterly out of truth and
nature are the representations of his life and cha-
racter long current upon the Continent, that it may
be questioned whether the real " flesh and blood "
hero of these pages, — the social, practical-minded,
and, with all his faults and eccentricities, English
Lord Byron, — may not, to the over-exalted imagin-
ations of most of his foreign admirers, appear but an
ordinary, unromantic, and prosaic personage.

« GOETHE ON MANFRED.

[1820.]

" Byron's tragedy, Manfred, was to me a wonder-
ful phenomenon, and one that closely touched me.
This singular intellectual poet has taken my Faustus
to himself, and extracted from it the strongest
nourishment for his hypochondriac humour. He has
made use of the impelling principles in his own way,

* Of this kind are the accounts, filled with all sorts of cir-
cumstantial wonders, of his residence in the island of Myti-
lene; — his voyages to Sicily, — to Ithaca, with the Countess
Guiccioli, &c. &c. But the most absurd, perhaps, of all
these fabrications, are the stories told by Pouqueville, of the
poet's religious conferences in the cell of Father Paul, at
Athens; and the still more unconscionable fiction in which
Rizo has indulged, in giving the details of a pretended thea-
trical scene, got up (according to this poetical historian) be-
tween Lord Byron and the Archbishop of Arta, at the tomb
of Botzaris, in Missolonghi.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 323

for his own purposes, so that no one of them remains
the same ; and it is particularly on this account that
I cannot enough admire his genius. The whole is
in this way so completely formed anew, that it would
be an interesting task for the critic to point out
not only the alterations he has made, but their
degree of resemblance with, or dissimilarity to, the
original : in the course of which I cannot deny that
the gloomy heat of an unbounded and exuberant
despair becomes at last oppressive to us. Yet is the
dissatisfaction we feel always connected with esteem
and admiration.

" We find thus in this tragedy the quintessence
of the most astonishing talent born to be its own
tormentor. The character of Lord Byron's life and
poetry hardly permits a just and equitable appreci-
ation. He has often enough confessed what it is
that torments him. He has repeatedly pourtrayed
it ; and scarcely any one feels compassion for this
intolerable suffering, over which he is ever labo-
riously ruminating. There are, properly speaking,
two females whose phantoms for ever haunt him, and
which, in this piece also, perform principal parts —
one under the name of Astarte, the other without
form or actual presence, and merely a voice. Of
the horrid occurrence which took place with the
former, the following is related : — When a bold and
enterprising young man, he won the affections of a
Florentine lady. Her husband discovered the amour,
and murdered his wife ; but the murderer was the
same night found dead in the street, and there was
Y 2

S24? NOTICES OF THE 1820.

no one on whom any suspicion could be attached.
Lord Byron removed from Florence, and these
spirits haunted him all his life after,

" This romantic incident is rendered highly pro-
bable by innumerable allusions to it in his poems.
As, for instance, when turning his sad contempla-
tions inwards, he applies to himself the fatal history
of the king of Sparta. It is as follows : — Pausanias,
a Lacedemonian general, acquires glory by the im-
portant victory at Plataea, but afterwards forfeits the
confidence of his countrymen through his arrogance,
obstinacy, and secret intrigues with the enemies of
his country. This man draws upon himself the
heavy guilt of innocent blood, which attends him to
his end ; for, while commanding the fleet of the
allied Greeks, in the Black Sea, he is inflamed with
a violent passion for a Byzantine maiden. After
long resistance, he at length obtains her from her
parents, and she is to be delivered up to him at
night. She modestly desires the servant to put out
the lamp, and, while groping her way in the dark,
she overturns it. Pausanias is awakened from his
sleep — apprehensive of an attack from murderers,
he seizes his sword, and destroys his mistress. The
horrid sight never leaves him. Her shade pursues
him unceasingly, and he implores for aid in vain from
the gods and the exorcising priests.

" That poet must have a lacerated heart who
selects such a scene from antiquity, appropriates it
to himself, and burdens his tragic image with it.
The following soliloquy, which is overladen with
gloom and a weariness of life, is, by this remark, ren-

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 325

dered intelligible. We recommend it as an exercise
to all friends of declamation. Hamlet's soliloquy
appears improved upon here." *

LETTER 378. TO MR. MOORE.

" Ravenna, June 9. 1820.

" Galignani has just sent me the Paris edition of
your Vorks (which I wrote to order), and I am glad
to see my old friends with a French face. I have
been skimming and dipping, in and over them, like
a swallow, and as pleased as one. It is the first time
that I had seen the Melodies without music ; and,
I don't know how, but I can't read in a music-book
— the crotchets confound the words in my head,
though I recollect them perfectly when sung. Music
assists my memory through the ear, not through the
eye ; I mean, that her quavers perplex me upon
paper, but they are a help when heard. And thus I
was glad to see the words without their borrowed
robes ; — to my mind they look none the worse for
their nudity.

" The biographer has made a botch of your life —
calling your father * a venerable old gentleman,' and
prattling of ' Addison,' and * dowager countesses.'
If that damned fellow was to write my life, I would
certainly take his. And then, at the Dublin dinner,
you have * made a speech ' (do you recollect, at

* The critic here subjoins the soliloquy from Manfred, be-
ginning " We are the fools of time and terror," in which the
allusion to Pausanias occurs.

Y 3

326 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

Douglas K.'s, « Sir, he made me a speech ? ') too
complimentary to the < living poets,' and somewhat
redolent of universal praise. / am but too well off
in it, but * * *.

" You have not sent me any poetical or personal
news of yourself. Why don't you complete an
Italian Tour of the Fudges ? I have just been turn-
ing over Little, which I knew by heart in 1803,
being then in my fifteenth summer. Heigho ! I be-
lieve all the mischief I have ever done, or sung, has
been owing to that confounded book of yours.

" In my last I told you of a cargo of ' Poeshie,'
which I had sent to M. at his own impatient desire J
— and, now he has got it, he don't like it, and de-
murs. Perhaps he is right. I have no great
opinion of any of my last shipment, except a trans-
lation from Pulci, which is word for word, and verse
for verse.

" I am in the third Act of a Tragedy ; but
whether it will be finished or not, I know not : I
have, at this present, too many passions of my own
on hand to do justice to those of the dead. Besides
the vexations mentioned in my last, I have incurred
a quarrel with the Pope's carabiniers, or gens
d'armerie, who have petitioned the Cardinal against
my liveries, as resembling too nearly their own lousy
uniform. They particularly object to the epaulettes,
which all the world with us have on upon gala days.
My liveries are of the colours conforming to my
arms, and have been the family hue since the year
1066.

" I have sent a tranchant reply, as you may sup-

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 327

pose ; and have given to understand that, if any
soldados of that respectable corps insult my ser-
vants, I will do likewise by their gallant comman-
ders ; and I have directed my ragamuffins, six in
number, who are tolerably savage, to defend them-
selves, in case of aggression ; and, on holidays and
gaudy days, I shall arm the whole set, including my-
self, in case of accidents or treachery. I used to play
pretty well at the broad-sword, once upon a time, at
Angelo's ; but I should like the pistol, our national
buccaneer weapon, better, though I am out of prac-
tice at present. However, I can ' wink and hold out
mine iron.' It makes me think (the whole thing does)
of Romeo and Juliet — * now, Gregory, remember
thy swashing blow.'

" All these feuds, however, with the Cavalier for
his wife, and the troopers for my liveries, are very
tiresome to a quiet man, who does his best to please
all the world, and longs for fellowship and good will.
Pray write. I am yours," &c.

LETTER 379. TO MR. MOORE.

" Ravenna, July 13. 1820.

" To remove or increase your Irish anxiety about
my being * in a wisp*,' I answer your letter forth-
with ; premising that, as I am a ' Will of the wisp,'
I may chance to flit out of it. But, first, a word on
the Memoir ; — I have no objection, nay, I would
rather that one correct copy was taken and deposit-

* An Irish phrase for being in a scrape.
Y 4.

328 NOTICES OF THE

1820.

ed in honourable hands, in case of accidents happen-
ing to the original ; for you know that I have none,
and have never even re-read, nor, indeed, read at all
what is there written ; I only know that I wrote it
with the fullest intention to be l faithful and true '
in my narrative, but not impartial — no, by the
Lord ! I can't pretend to be that, while I feel. But
I wish to give every body concerned the opportunity
to contradict or correct me.

" I have no objection to any proper person seeing
what is there written, — seeing it was written, like
every thing else, for the purpose of being read, how-
ever much many writings may fail in arriving at that
object.

" With regard to ' the wisp,' the Pope has pro-
nounced their separation. The decree came yester-
day from Babylon, — it was she and her friends who
demanded it, on the grounds of her husband's (the
noble Count Cavalier's) extraordinary usage. He
opposed it with all his might because of the alimony,
which has been assigned, with all her goods, chat-
tels, carriage, &c. to be restored by him. In Italy
they can't divorce. He insisted on her giving me
up, and he would forgive every thing, — * *
* * * * *

* * * But, in this country, the very
courts hold such proofs in abhorrence, the Italians
being as much more delicate in public than the
English, as they are more passionate in private.

" The friends and relatives, who are numerous and
powerful, reply to him — ' You, yourself, are either
fool or knave, — fool, if you did not see the conse-

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 329

quences of the approximation of these two young
persons, • — knave, if you connive at it. Take your
choice, — but don't break out (after twelve months of
the closest intimacy, under your own eyes and posi-
tive sanction) with a scandal, which can only make
you ridiculous and her unhappy.'

" He swore that he thought our intercourse was
purely amicable, and that / was more partial to him
than to her, till melancholy testimony proved the
contrary. To this they answer, that * Will of this
wisp' was not an unknown person, and that ' clamosa
Fama' had not proclaimed the purity of my morals ;
— that her brother, a year ago, wrote from Rome to
warn him that his wife would infallibly be led astray
by this ignis fatuus, unless he took proper measures,
all of which he neglected to take, &c. &c.

" Now he says that he encouraged my return to
Ravenna, to see * in quantipiedi di acqua siamo,' and
he has found enough to drown him in. In short,

" * Ce ne fut pas le tout ; sa femme se plaignit —
Proces — La parente se joint en excuse et dit
Que du Docteur venoit tout le mauvais manage ;
Que cet homme e"toit fou, que sa femme etoit sage.
On fit casser le mariage.'

It is but to let the women alone, in the way of con-
flict, for they are sure to win against the field. She
returns to her father's house, and I can only see her
under great restrictions — such is the custom of the
country. The relations behave very well : — I offered
any settlement, but they refused to accept it, and
swear she shdrit live with G. (as he has tried to
prove her faithless), but that he shall maintain her ;

330 NOTICES OF THE 182O.

and, in fact, a judgment to this effect came yester-
day. I am, of course, in an awkward situation
enough.

" I have heard no more of the carabiniers who pro-
tested against my liveries. They are not popular,
those same soldiers, and, in a small row, the other
night, one was slain, another wounded, and divers
put to flight, by some of the Romagnuole youth, who
are dexterous, and somewhat liberal of the knife.
The perpetrators are not discovered, but I hope
and believe that none of my ragamuffins were in it,
though they are somewhat savage, and secretly
armed, like most of the inhabitants. It is their way,
and saves sometimes a good deal of litigation.

" There is a revolution at Naples. If so, it will
probably leave a card at Ravenna in its way to Lom-
bardy.

" Your publishers seem to have used you like mine.
M. has shuffled, and almost insinuated that my last
productions are dull. Dull, sir ! — damme, dull !
I believe he is right. He begs for the completion of
my tragedy on Marino Faliero, none of which is yet
gone to England. The fifth act is nearly completed,
but it is dreadfully long — 40 sheets of long paper
of 4 pages each — about 150 when printed ; but
' so full of pastime and prodigality ' that I think it
will do.

" Pray send and publish your Pome upon me ; and
don't be afraid of praising me too highly. I shall
pocket my blushes.

" « Not actionable ! ' — Chantre cfenfer /* — by * *

* The title given him by M. Lamartine, in one of his
Poems.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 331

that's 'a speech,' and I won't put up with it. A
pretty title to give a man for doubting if there be
any such place !

" So my Gail is gone — and Miss Mahoray won't
take money. I am very glad of it — I like to be
generous free of expense. But beg her not to
translate me.

" Oh, pray tell Galignani that I shall send him a
screed of doctrine if he don't be more punctual.
Somebody regularly detains two, and sometimes four,
of his Messengers by the way. Do, pray, entreat
him to be more precise. News are worth money in
this remote kingdom of the Ostrogoths.

" Pray, reply. I should like much to share some
of your Champagne and La Fitte, but I am too
Italian for Paris in general. Make Murray send my
letter to you — it is full of epigrams.

" Yours," &c.

In the separation that had now taken place be-
tween Count Guiccioli and his wife, it was one of
the conditions that the lady should, in future, reside
under the paternal roof: — in consequence of which,
Madame Guiccioli, on the 16th of July, left Ravenna
and retired to a villa belonging to Count Gamba,
about fifteen miles distant from that city. Here
Lord Byron occasionally visited her — about once
or twice, perhaps, in a month — passing the rest of
his time in perfect solitude. To a mind like his,
whose world was within itself, such a mode of life
could have been neither new nor unwelcome ; but
to the woman, young and admired, whose acquaint-

332 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

ance with the world and its pleasures had but just
begun, this change was, it must be confessed, most
sudden and trying. Count Guiccioli was rich, and,
as a young wife, she had gained absolute power over
him. She was proud, and his station placed her
among the highest in Ravenna. They had talked of
travelling to Naples, Florence, Paris, — and every
luxury, in short, that wealth could command was at
her disposal.

All this she now voluntarily and determinedly
sacrificed for Byron. Her splendid home abandoned
— her relations all openly at war with her — her
kind father but tolerating, from fondness, what he
could not approve — she was now, upon a pittance
of C200l. a year, living apart from the world, her sole
occupation the task of educating herself for her
illustrious friend, and her sole reward the few brief
glimpses of him which their now restricted inter-
course allowed. Of the man who could inspire and
keep alive so devoted a feeling, it may be pronounced
with confidence that he could not have been such
as, in the freaks of his own wayward humour, he re-
presented himself; while, on the lady's side, the
whole history of her attachment goes to prove how
completely an Italian woman, whether by nature or
from her social position, is led to invert the usual
course of such frailties among ourselves, and, weak
in resisting the first impulses of passion, to reserve
the whole strength of her character for a display of
constancy and devotedness afterwards.

1820. LIFE OF LORD El'RON. 333"

LKTTER 380. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, July 17. 1820.

" I have received some books, and Quarterlies, and
Edinburghs, for all which I am grateful : they con-
tain all I know of England, except by Galignani's
newspaper.

" The tragedy is completed, but now comes the
task of copy and correction. It is very long, (42
sheets of long paper, of four pages each,) and I be-
lieve must make more than 140 or 150 pages, besides
many historical extracts as notes, which I mean to
append. History is closely followed. Dr. Moore's
account is in some respects false, and in all foolish
and flippant. None of the chronicles (and I have
consulted Sanuto, Sandi, Navagero, and an anony-
mous Siege of Zara, besides the histories of Laugier,
Daru, Sismondi, &c.) state, or even hint, that he
begged his life ; they merely say that he did not
deny the conspiracy. He was one of their great
men, — commanded at the siege of Zara, — beat
80,000 Hungarians, killing 8000, and at the same
time kept the town he was besieging in order, — •
took Capo d'Istria, — was ambassador at Genoa,
Rome, and finally Doge, where he fell for treason,
in attempting to alter the government, by what Sa-
nuto calls a judgment on him for, many years before
(when Podesta and Captain of Treviso), having
knocked down a bishop, who was sluggish in carry-
ing the host at a procession. He ' saddles him/ as
Thwackum did Square, 'with a judgment;' but he
does not mention whether he had been punished at

334? NOTICES OF THE 1820.

the time for what would appear very strange, even
now, and must have been still more so in an age of
papal power and glory. Sanuto says, that Heaven
took away his senses for this buffet, and induced him
to conspire. ' Pero fu permesso che il Faliero per-
dette 1' intelletto,' &c.

" I do not know what your parlour-boarders will
think of the Drama I have founded upon this extra-
ordinary event. The only similar one in history is
the story of Agis, King of Sparta, a prince with the
commons against the aristocracy, and losing his life
therefor. But it shall be sent when copied.

" I should be glad to know why your Quar tering
Reviewers, at the close of * The Fall of Jerusalem,'
accuse me of Manicheism ? a compliment to which
the sweetener of ' one of the mightiest spirits ' by
no means reconciles me. The poem they review is
very noble ; but could they not do justice to the
writer without converting him into my religious an-
tidote ? I am not a Manichean, nor an Any-chean.
I should like to know what harm my 'poeshies'
have done ? I can't tell what people mean by making
me a hobgoblin."

LETTER 381. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, August 31. 1820.

" I have * put my soul ' into the tragedy (as you
if it) ; but you know that there are d — d souls as
well as tragedies. Recollect that it is not a political
play, though it may look like it : it is strictly his-
torical. Read the history and judge.

" Ada's picture is her mother's. I am glad of it

1820.

LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 335

the mother made a good daughter. Send me

Gifford's opinion, and never mind the Archbishop. I
can neither send you away, nor give you a hundred
pistoles, nor a better taste : I send you a tragedy,
and you ask for * facetious epistles ; ' a little like
your predecessor, who advised Dr. Prideaux to
' put some more humour into his Life of Mahomet.'

" Bankes is a wonderful fellow. There is hardly
one of my school or college contemporaries that has
not turned out more or less celebrated. Peel,
Palmerstone, Bankes, Hobhouse, Tavistock, Bob
Mills, Douglas Kinnaird, &c. &c. have all talked
and been talked about.

" We are here going to fight a little next month,
if the Huns don't cross the Po, and probably if they
do. I can't say more now. If any thing happens,
you have matter for a posthumous work, in MS. ; so
pray be civil. Depend upon it, there will be savage
work, if once they begin here. The French courage
proceeds from vanity, the German from phlegm, the
Turkish from fanaticism and opium, the Spanish
from pride, the English from coolness, the Dutch
from obstinacy, the Russian from insensibility, but
the Italian from anger ; so you'll see that they will
spare nothing."

LETTER 382. TO MR. MOORE.

" Ravenna, August 31. 1820.

" D — n your ' mezzo cammin*' — you should say
* the prime of life,' a much more consolatory phrase.

* I had congratulated him upon arriving at what Dante
calls the " mezzo cammin" of life, the age of thirty-three.

336 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

Besides, it is not correct. I was born in 1788, and
consequently am but thirty-two. You are mistaken
on another point. The ' Sequin Box ' never came
into requisition, nor is it likely to do so. It were
better that it had, for then a man is not bound, you
know. As to reform, I did reform — what would you
have ? t Rebellion lay in his way, and he found it.f
I verily believe that nor you, nor any man of poetical
temperament, can avoid a strong passion of some
kind. It is the poetry of life. What should I have
known or written, had I been a quiet, mercantile
politician, or a lord in waiting ? A man must travel,
and turmoil, or there is no existence. Besides, I
only meant to be a Cavalier Servente, and had no
idea it would turn out a romance, in the Anglo
fashion.

" However, I suspect I know a thing or two of
Italy — more than Lady Morgan has picked up in
her posting. What do Englishmen know of Italians
beyond their museums and saloons — and some hack
* *, en passant? Now, I have lived in the heart of
their houses, in parts of Italy freshest and least in-
fluenced by strangers, — have seen and become (pars
magnafui) a portion of their hopes, and fears, and
passions, and am almost inoculated into a family.
This is to see men and things as they are.

" You say that I called you ' quiet * ' — I don't
recollect any thing of the sort. On the contrary,
you are always in scrapes.

* I had mistaken the concluding words of his letter of the
9th of June.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 337

" What think you of the Queen ? I hear Mr.
Hoby says, ' that it makes him weep to see her, she
reminds him so much of Jane Shore.'

" Mr. Hoby the bootmaker's heart is quite sore,
For seeing the Queen makes him think of Jane Shore ;
And, in fact, * *

Pray excuse this ribaldry. What is your poem
about ? Write and tell me all about it and you.

" Yours, &c.

" P. S. Did you write the lively quiz on Peter
Bell ? It has wit enough to be yours, and almost
too much to be any body else's now going. It was
in Galignani the other day or week."

LKTTERSSS. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, September 7. 1820.

" In correcting the proofs you must refer to the
manuscript, because there are in it various readings.
Pray attend to this, and choose what GifFord thinks
best, Let me hear what he thinks of the whole.

" You speak of Lady * * 's illness ; she is not of
those who die : — the amiable only do ; and those
whose death would do good live. Whenever she is
pleased to return, it may be presumed she will take
her * divining rod ' along with her : it may be of
use to her at home, as well as to the ' rich man ' of
the Evangelists.

" Pray do not let the papers paragraph me back to
England. They may say what they please, any
loathsome abuse but that. Contradict it.

VOL. iv. z

338 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

" My last letters will have taught you to expect
an explosion here : it was primed and loaded, but
they hesitated to fire the train. One of the cities
shirked from the league. I cannot write more at
large for a thousand reasons. Our ' puir hill folk '
offered to strike, and raise the first banner, but Bo-
logna paused ; and now 'tis autumn, and the season
half over. ( O Jerusalem ! Jerusalem I ' The Huns
are on the Po ; but if once they pass it on their way
to Naples, all Italy will be behind them. The dogs
— the wolves — may they perish like the host of
Sennacherib ! If you want to publish the Prophecy
of Dante, you never will have a better time."

LETTER 384. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Ravenna, Sept. 11. 182O.

" Here is another historical note for you. I want
to be as near truth as the drama can be.

" Last post I sent you a note fierce as Faliero
himself*, in answer to a trashy tourist, who pre-
tends that he could have been introduced to me. Let
me have a proof of it, that I may cut its lava into
some shape.

" What Gifford says is very consolatory (of the
first act). English, sterling genuine English, is a
desideratum amongst you, and I am glad that I have

* The angry note against English travellers appended to
this tragedy, in consequence of an assertion made by some
recent tourist, that he (or as it afterwards turned out, she)
'* had repeatedly declined an introduction to Lord Byron
while in Italy."

1820. LIFE OF LORD BY11ON- 339

got so much left ; though Heaven knows how I
retain it : I hear none but from my valet, and his is
Nottinghamshire : and I see none but in your new
publications, and theirs is no language at all, but
jargon. Even your * * * * is terribly stilted and
affected, with < very, very ' so soft and pamby.

" Oh ! if ever I do come amongst you again, I
will give you such a < Baviad and Maeviad ! ' not as
good as the old, but even better merited. There
never was such a set as your ragamuffins (I mean
not yours only, but every body's). What with the
Cockneys, and the Lakers, and the followers of
Scott, and Moore, and Byron, you are in the very
uttermost decline and degradation of literature. I
can't think of it without all the remorse of a mur-
derer. I wish that Johnson were alive again to
crush them I "

LETTER 385. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, Sept. 14. 1820.

" What ! not a line ? Well, have it your own
way.

" I wish you would inform Perry, that his stupid
paragraph is the cause of all my newspapers being
stopped in Paris. The fools believe me in your in-
fernal country, and have not sent on their gazettes,
so that I know nothing of your beastly trial of the
Queen.

" I cannot avail myself of Mr. Gifford's remarks,
because I have received none, except on the first
act. Yours, &c.

z 2

340 NOTICES OF THE 182O.

" P. S. Do, pray, beg the editors of papers to say
any thing blackguard they please ; but not to put
me amongst their arrivals. They do me more mis-
chief by such nonsense than all their abuse can do."

LETTER 386. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, Sept. 21. 182O.

" So you are at your old tricks again. This is
the second packet I have received unaccompanied
by a single line of good, bad, or indifferent. It is
strange that you have never forwarded any further
observations of Gifford's. How am I to alter or
amend, if I hear no further ? or does this silence
mean that it is well enough as it is, or too bad to be
repaired ? If the last, why do you not say so at
once, instead of playing pretty, while you know that
soon or late you must out with the truth.

" Yours, &c.

" P. S. My sister tells me that you sent to her
to enquire where I was, believing in my arrival,
' driving a curricle,' &c. &c. into Palace-yard. Do
you think me a coxcomb or a madman, to be capable
of such an exhibition ? My sister knew me better,
and told you, that could not be me. You might as
well have thought me entering on ' a pale horse,'
like Death in the Revelations."

LETTER 387. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, Sept. 23. 1820.

" Get from Mr. Hobhouse, and send me a proof
(with the Latin) of my Hints from Horace : it has

182O. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 31

now the nonum prematur in annum complete for its
production, being written at Athens in 181 1. I have
a notion that, with some omissions of names and pas-
sages, it will do ; and I could put my late observ-
ations for Pope amongst the notes, with the date of
1820, and so on. As far as versification goes, it is
good ; and, on looking back to what I wrote about
that period, I am astonished to see how little I have
trained on. I wrote better then than now ; but that
comes of my having fallen into the atrocious bad
taste of the times. If I can trim it for present
publication, what with the other things you have
of mine, you will have a volume or two of variety
at least, for there will be all measures, styles, and
topics, whether good or no. I am anxious to hear
what Gifford thinks of the tragedy : pray let me
know. I really do not know what to think myself.

" If the Germans pass the Po, they will be treated
to a mass out of the Cardinal de Retz's Breviary,
* * 's a fool, and could not understand this : Frere
will. It is as pretty a conceit as you would wish to
see on a summer's day.

" Nobody here believes a word of the evidence
against the Queen. The very mob cry shame against
their countrymen, and say, that for half the money
spent upon the trial, any testimony whatever may
be brought out of Italy. This you may rely upon
as fact. I told you as much before. As to what
travellers report, what are travellers ? Now I have
lived among the Italians — not Plorenced, and Romed,
and galleried, and conversationed it for a few months,
and then home again; but been of their families,
z 3

34>2 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

and friendships, and feuds, and loves, and councils,
and correspondence, in a part of Italy least known
to foreigners, — and have been amongst them of all
classes, from the Conte to the Contadine ; and you
may be sure of what I say to you.

« Yours," &c.

LPTTEE 388. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, Sept. 28. 1820.

« I thought that I had told you long ago, that it
never was intended nor written with any view to
the stage. I have said so in the preface too. It is
too long and too regular for your stage, the persons
too few, and the unity too much observed. It is
more like a play of Alfieri's than of your stage (I say
this humbly in speaking of that great man) ; but
there is poetry, and it is equal to Manfred, though
I know not what esteem is held of Manfred.

" I have now been nearly as long out of England
as I was there during the time I saw you frequently.
I came home July 14th, 1811, and left again April
25th, 1816: so that Sept. 28th, 1820, brings me
within a very few months of the same duration of
time of my stay and my absence. In course, I can
know nothing of the public taste and feelings, but
from what I glean from letters, &c. Both seem to
be as bad as possible.

" I thought Anastasius excellent: did I not say so ?
Matthews's Diary most excellent ; it, and Forsyth,
and parts of Hobhouse, are all we have of truth
or sense upon Italy. The Letter to Julia very good

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 343

indeed. I do not despise ******; but if she knit
blue stockings instead of wearing them, it would be
better. You are taken in by that false stilted trashy
style, which is a mixture of all the styles of the day,
which are all bombastic (I don't except my own — no
one has done more through negligence to corrupt
the language) ; but it is neither English nor poetry.
Time will show.

" I am sorry Gifford has made no further remarks
beyond the first Act : does he think all the English
equally sterling as he thought the first ? You did
right to send the proofs : I was a fool ; but I do really
detest the sight of proofs : it is an absurdity ; but
comes from laziness.

" You can steal the two Juans into the world
quietly, tagged to the others. The play as you will
— the Dante too ; but the Pulci I am proud of: it
is superb ; you have no such translation. It is the
best thing I ever did in my life. I wrote the play
from beginning to end, and not a single scene without
interruption, and being obliged to break off in the
middle ; for I had my hands full, and my head, too,
just then; so it can be no great shakes — I mean
the play ; and the head too, if you like.

" P. S. Politics here still savage and uncertain .
However, we are all in our < bandaliers,' to join the
« Highlanders if they cross the Forth,' *. e. to crush
the Austrians if they cross the Po. The rascals ! —
and that dog Liverpool, to say their subjects are
happy / If ever I come back, I'll work some of these
ministers.

344 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

" Sept. 29.

" I opened my letter to say, that on reading more
of the four volumes on Italy, where the author says
.' declined an introduction,' I perceive (horresco re-
ferens) it is written by a WOMAN ! ! I In that case
you must suppress my note and answer, and all I
have said about the book and the writer. I never
dreamed of it until now, in my extreme wrath at
that precious note. I can only say that I am sorry
that a lady should say any thing of the kind. What
I would have said to one of the other sex you know
already. Her book too (as a she book) is not a bad
one ; but she evidently don't know the Italians, or
rather don't like them, and forgets the causes of their
misery and profligacy (Matthews and Forsyth are
your men for truth and tact), and has gone over
Italy in company — always a bad plan : you must
be alone with people to know them well. Ask her,
who was the * descendant of Lady M. W. Montague,'
and by whom ? by Algarotti ?

" I suspect that, in Marino Faliero, you and yours
won't like the politics, which are perilous to you in
these times ; but recollect that it is not a political
play, and that I was obliged to put into the mouths
of the characters the sentiments upon which they
acted. I hate all things written like Pizarro, to
represent France, England, and so forth. All I have
done is meant to be purely Venetian, even to the
very prophecy of its present state.

" Your Angles in general know little of the
Italians, who detest them for their numbers and
their GENOA treachery. Besides, the English tra-

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 345

vellers have not been composed of the best company.
How could they? — out of 100,000, how many
gentlemen were there, or honest men ?

" Mitchell's Aristophanes is excellent. Send me
the rest of it.

" These fools will force me to write a book about
Italy myself, to give them ' the loud lie.' They
prate about assassination ; what is it but the origin
of duelling — and * a wild justice? as Lord Bacon
calls it ? It is the fount of the modern point of
honour in what the laws can't or wont reach. Every
man is liable to it more or less, according to cir-
cumstances or place. For instance, I am living
here exposed to it daily, for I have happened to
make a powerful and unprincipled man my enemy ;
— and I never sleep the worse for it, or ride in less
solitary places, because precaution is useless, and
one thinks of it as of a disease which may or may
not strike. It is true that there are those here,
who, if he did, would * live to think on't;' but that
would not awake my bones : I should be sorry if it
would, were they once at rest."

LETTER 389. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, 8bre 6°, 1820.

u You will have now received all the Acts, cor-
rected, of the Marino Faliero. What you say of
the * bet of 100 guineas' made by some one who
says that he saw me last week, reminds me of what
happened in 1810: you can easily ascertain the
fact, and it is an odd one

846 NOTICES OF THE J820.

" In the latter end of 1 81 1, I met one evening at
the Alfred my old school and form fellow (for we
were within two of each other, he the higher, though
both very near the top of our remove,) Peel, the Irish
secretary. He told me that, in 1810, he met me,
as he thought, in St. James's Street, but we passed
without speaking. He mentioned this, and it was
denied as impossible, I being then in Turkey. A
day or two afterward, he pointed out to his brother
a person on the opposite side of the way : — * There,'
said he, ' is the man whom I took for Byron.' His
brother instantly answered, * Why, it is Byron, and
no one else.' But this is not all : — I was seen by
somebody to write down my name amongst the en-
quirers after the King's health, then attacked by
insanity. Now, at this very period, as nearly as I
could make out, I was ill of a strong fever at Patras,
caught in the marshes near Olympia, from the mal-
aria. If I had died there, this would have been a
new ghost story for you. You can easily make out
the accuracy of this from Peel himself, who told it
in detail. I suppose you will be of the opinion of
Lucretius, who (denies the immortality of the soul,
but) asserts that from the ' flying off of the surfaces
of bodies, these surfaces or cases, like the coats of
an onion, are sometimes seen entire when they are
separated from it, so that the shapes and shadows of
both the dead and living are frequently beheld.'

" But if they are, are their coats and waistcoats
also seen ? I do not disbelieve that we may be two
by some unconscious process, to a certain sign, but
which of these two I happen at present to be, I

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 84-7

leave you to decide. I only hope that father me
behaves like a gemman.

" I wish you would get Peel asked how far I am
accurate in my recollection of what he told me ; for
I don't like to say such things without authority.

" I am not sure that I was not spoken with ; but
this also you can ascertain. I have written to you
such letters that I stop.

" Yours, &c.

" P. S. Last year (in June, 1819, I met at Count
Mosti's, at Ferrara, an Italian who asked me * if I
knew Lord Byron?' I told him no (no one knows
himself, you know). * Then,' says he, ' I do ; I met
him at Naples the other day.' I pulled out my card
and asked him if that was the way he spelt his name:
he answered, yes. I suspect that it was a blackguard
navy surgeon, who attended a young travelling
madam about, and passed himself for a lord at the
post-houses. He was a vulgar dog — quite of the
cock-pit order — and a precious representative I
must have had of him, if it was even so ; but I don't
know. He passed himself off as a gentleman, and
squired about a Countess * * (of this place), then
at Venice, an ugly battered woman, of bad morals
even for Italy."

LETTER 390. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Ravenna, 8bre 8°, 1820.

•' Foscolo's letter is exactly the thing wanted ;
firstly, because he is a man of genius ; and, next,

348 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

because he is an Italian, and therefore tho best
judge of Italics. Besides,

" He's more an antique Roman than a Dane ;

that is, he is more of the ancient Greek than of the
modern Italian. Though ' somewhat,' as Dugald
Dalgetty says, ' too wild and salvage' (like * Ronald
of the Mist'), 'tis a wonderful man, and my friends
Hobhouse and Rose both swear by him ; and they
are good judges of men and of Italian humanity.

" Here are in all tivo worthy voices gain'd :

Gifford says it is good * sterling genuine English,'
and Foscolo says that the characters are right
Venetian. Shakspeare and Otway had a million of
advantages over me, besides the incalculable one of
being dead from one to two centuries, and having
been both born blackguards (which ARE such attrac-
tions to the gentle living reader) ; let me then pre-
serve the only one which I could possibly have —
that of having been at Venice, and entered more
into the local spirit of it. I claim no more.

" I know what Foscolo means about Calendaro's
spitting at Bertram ; that's national — the objection,
I mean. The Italians and French, with those * flags
of abomination,' their pocket handkerchiefs, spit
there, and here, and every where else — in your
face almost, and therefore object to it on the stage
as too familiar. But we who spit nowhere — but in
a man's face when we grow savage — are not likely
to feel this. Remember Massinger, and Kean's Sir
Giles Overreach —

" Lord ! thus I spit at thee and at thy counsel !

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON.

Besides, Calendaro does not spit in Bertram's face ;
he spits at him, as I have seen the Mussulmans do
upon the ground when they are in a rage. Again,
he does not in fact despise Bertram, though he affects
it — as we all do, when angry with one we think our
inferior. He is angry at not being allowed to die in
his own way (although not afraid of death) ; and re-
collect that he suspected and hated Bertram from
the first. Israel Bertuccio, on the other hand, is a
cooler and more concentrated fellow : he acts upon
principle and impulse; Calendaro upon impulse and
example.

" So there's argument for you.

" The Doge repeats; — true, but it is from en-
grossing passion, and because he sees different
persons, and is always obliged to recur to the
cause uppermost in his mind. His speeches are
long: — true, but I wrote for the closet, and on the
French and Italian model rather than yours, which
I think not very highly of, for all your old drama-
tists, who are long enough too, God knows: — look
into any of them.

" I return you Foscolo's letter, because it alludes
also to his private affairs. I am sorry to see such a
man in straits, because I know what they are, or
what they were. I never met but three men who
would have held out a finger to me : one was your-
self, the other William Bankes, and the other a
nobleman long ago dead : but of these the first was
the only one who offered it while I really wanted it;
the second from good will — but I was not in need of
Bankes's aid, and would not have accepted it if I

350 NOTICES OF THE I82O.

had (though I love and esteem him) ; and the
third .*

" So you see that I have seen some strange things
in my time. As for your own offer, it was in 1815,
when I was in actual uncertainty of five pounds. I
rejected it ; but I have not forgotten it, although you
probably have.

" P. S. Foscolo's Ricciardo was lent, with the
leaves uncut, to some Italians, now in villeggiatura,
so that I have had no opportunity of hearing their
decision, or of reading it. They seized on it as
Foscolo's, and on account of the beauty of the
paper and printing, directly. If I find it takes, I
will reprint it here. The Italians think as highly of
Foscolo as they can of any man, divided and miser-
able as they are, and with neither leisure at present
to read, nor head nor heart to judge of any thing
but extracts from French newspapers and the Lugano
Gazette.

" We are all looking at one another, like wolves
on their prey in pursuit, only waiting for the first
falling on to do unutterable things. They are a
great world in chaos, or angels in hell, which you
please ; but out of chaos came Paradise, and out of
hell — I don't know what; but the devil went in
there, and he was a fine fellow once, you know.

" You need never favour me with any periodical
publication, except the Edinburgh Quarterly, and an
occasional Blackwood ; or now and then a Monthly
Review ; for the rest I do not feel curiosity enough
to look beyond their covers.

* The paragraph is left thus imperfect in the original.

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 351

" To be sure I took in the British finely. He fell
precisely into the glaring trap laid for him. It was
inconceivable how he could be so absurd as to
imagine us serious with him.

" Recollect, that if you put my name to ' Don
Juan' in these canting days, any lawyer might oppose
my guardian right of my daughter in Chancery, on
the plea of its containing the parody ; — such are
the perils of a foolish jest. I was not aware of this
at the time, but you will find it correct, I believe ;
and you may be sure that the Noels would not let it
slip. Now I prefer my child to a poem at any
time, and so should you, as having half a dozen.

" Let me know your notions.

" If you turn over the earlier pages of the Hun-
tingdon peerage story, you will see how common a
name Ada was in the early Plantagenet days. I
found it in my own pedigree in the reign of John
and Henry, and gave it to my daughter. It was
also the name of Charlemagne's sister. It is in an
early chapter of Genesis, as the name of the wife of
Lamech ; and I suppose Ada is the feminine of
Adam. It is short, ancient, vocalic, and had been
in my family; for which reason I gave it to my
daughter."

LETTE* 391. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, 8bre 12°, 1820.

" By land and sea carriage a considerable quan-
tity of books have arrived ; and I am obliged and
grateful : but « medio de fonte leporum, surgit

352 NOTICES OF THE

amari aliquid,' &c. &c. ; which, being interpreted,
means,

" I'm thankful for your books, dear Murray ;
But why not send Scott's Monastery ?

the only book in four living volumes I would give a
baioccolo to see — 'bating the rest of the same
author, and an occasional Edinburgh and Quarterly,
as brief chroniclers of the times. Instead of this, here
are Johnny Keats's * * poetry, and three novels by
God knows whom, except that there is Peg * * *'s
name to one of them — a spinster whom I thought
we had sent back to her spinning. Crayon is very
good ; Hogg's Tales rough, but RACY, and welcome.

" Books of travels are expensive, and I don't
want them, having travelled already ; besides, they
lie. Thank the author of ' The Profligate' for his
(or her) present. Pray send me no more poetry but
what is rare and decidedly good. There is such a
trash of Keats and the like upon my tables that I
am ashamed to look at them. I say nothing against
your parsons, your S ** s and your C ** s — it
is all very fine — but pray dispense me from the
pleasure. Instead of poetry, if you will favour me
with a few soda-powders, I shall be delighted : but
all prose ('bating travels and novels NOT by Scott) is
welcome, especially Scott's Tales of my Landlord,
and so on.

" In the notes to Marino Faliero, it may be as
well to say that ' Benintende' was not really of the
Ten, but merely Grand Chancellor, a separate office
(although important): it was an arbitrary alteration

J820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 353

of mine. The Doges too were all buried in Si.
Mark's before Faliero. It is singular that when his
predecessor, Andrea Dandolo, died, the Ten made a
law that all the future Doges should be buried with
their families, in their own churches, — one would
think by a kind of presentiment. So that all that is
said of his ancestral Doges, as buried at St. John's
and Paul's, is altered from the fact, they being in
St. Mark's. Make a note of this, and put Editor as
the subscription to it.

" As I make such pretensions to accuracy, I
should not like to be twitted even with such trifles
on that score. Of the play they may say what they
please, but not so of my costume and dram. pers.
they having been real existences.

" I omitted Foscolo in my list of living Venetian
worthies, in the notes, considering him as an Italian
in general, and not a mere provincial like the rest ;
and as an Italian I have spoken of him in the pre-
face to Canto 4th of Childe Harold.

" The French translation of us ! ! ! oime ! oime f —
the German ; but I don't understand the latter and
his long dissertation at the end about the Fausts.
Excuse haste. Of politics it is not safe to speak,
but nothing is, decided as yet.

" I am in a very fierce humour at not having
Scott's Monastery. You are too liberal in quantity,
and somewhat careless of the quality, of your
missives. All the Quarterlies (four in number) I
had had before from you, and two of the Edinburgh ;
but no matter ; we shall have new ones by and by.
No more Keats, I entreat : — flay him alive ; if some

VOL. iv. A A

354? NOTICES OF THE 1820.

of you don't, I must skin him myself. There is no
bearing the drivelling idiotism of the manikin.

" I don't feel inclined to care further about ( Don
Juan.' What do you think a very pretty Italian
lady said to me the other day ? She had read it in
the French, and paid me some compliments, with
due DRAWBACKS, upon it. I answered that what
she said was true, but that I suspected it would live
longer than Childe Harold. « Ah but' (said she)./
would rather have the fame of Childe Harold for
three years than an IMMORTALITY of Don Juan!'
The truth is that it is TOO TRUE, and the women
hate many things which strip off the tinsel of senti-
ment; and they are right, as it would rob them of
their weapons. I never knew a woman who did not
hate De Grammont's Memoirs for the same reason :
even Lady * * used to abuse them.

" Rose's work I never received. It was seized
at Venice. Such is the liberality of the Huns, with
their two hundred thousand men, that they dare not
let such a volume as his circulate."

LETTER 392. TO MR. MURRAY.

« Ravenna, 8bre 16°, 1820.

" The Abbot has just arrived ; many thanks ; as
also for the Monastery — when you send it ! ! !

" The Abbot will have a more than ordinary
interest for me, for an ancestor of mine by the mo-
ther's side, Sir J. Gordon of Gight, the handsomest
of his day, died on a scaffold at Aberdeen for his
loyalty to Mary, of whom he was an imputed para-

1820. I'IFE OF LORD BYRON. 355

mour as well as her relation. His fate was much
commented on in the Chronicles of the times. If I
mistake not, he had something to do with her escape
from Loch Leven, or with her captivity there. But
this you will know better than I.

" I recollect Loch Leven as it were but yester-
day. I saw it in my way to England in 1798, being
then ten years of age. My mother, who was as
haughty as Lucifer with her descent from the
Stuarts, and her right line from the old Gordons,
not the Seyton Gordons, as she disdainfully termed
the ducal branch, told me the story, always remind-
ing me how superior her Gordons were to the
southern Byrons, notwithstanding our Norman, and
always masculine descent, which has never lapsed
into a female, as my mother's Gordons had done in
her own person.

" I have written to you so often lately, that the
brevity of this will be welcome. Yours," &c.

LETTER 393. TO MR. MURRAY.

" Ravenna, 8bre 17°, 1820.

" Enclosed is the Dedication of Marino Faliero
to Goethe. Query, — is his title Baron or not ? I
think yes. Let me know your opinion, and so forth.
" P. S. Let me know what Mr. Hobhouse and
you have decided about the two prose letters and
their publication.

" I enclose you an Italian abstract of the German
translator of Manfred's Appendix, in which you will
perceive quoted what Goethe says of the whole body
A A 2

356 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

of English poetry (and not of me in particular).
On this the Dedication is founded, as you will per-
ceive, though I had thought of it before, for I look
upon him as a great man."

The very singular Dedication transmitted with
this letter has never before been published, nor, as
far as I can learn, ever reached the hands of the
illustrious German. It is written in the poet's most
whimsical and mocking mood ; and the unmeasured
severity poured out in it upon the two favourite ob-
jects of his wrath and ridicule compels me to deprive
the reader of some of its most amusing passages.

DEDICATION TO BARON GOETHE, &c. &c. &c.

« Sir, — In the Appendix to an English work
lately translated into German and published at
Leipsic, a judgment of yours upon English poetry is
quoted as follows : « That in English poetry, great
genius, universal power, a feeling of profundity, with
sufficient tenderness and force, are to be found ; but
that altogether these do not constitute poets,' &c. &c.

" I regret to see a great man falling into a great
mistake. This opinion of yours only proves that the
* Dictionary often thousand living English Authors'
has not been translated into German. You will
have read, in your friend Schlegel's version, the
dialogue in Macbeth —

" ' There are ten thousand !
Macbeth. Geese, villain?
Answer. Authors, sir.'

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 357

Now, of these ' ten thousand authors/ there are ac-
tually nineteen hundred and eighty-seven poets,
all alive at this moment, whatever their works may
be, as their booksellers well know ; and amongst
these there are several who possess a far greater
reputation than mine, although considerably less
than yours. It is owing to this neglect on the part
of your German translators that you are not aware
of the works of * * * .

" There is also another, named * * * *

" I mention these poets by way of sample to

enlighten you. They form but two bricks of our

Babel, (WINDSOR bricks, by the way,) but may serve

for a specimen of the building.

" It is, moreover, asserted that * the predominant
character of the whole body of the present English
poetry is a disgust and contempt for life.' But I
rather suspect that, by one single work of prose,
you yourself have excited a greater contempt for life
than all the English volumes of poesy that ever were
written. Madame de Stae'l says, that ' Werther has
occasioned more suicides than the most beautiful
woman ; ' and I really believe that he has put more
individuals out of this world than Napoleon himself,
except in the way of his profession. Perhaps, Illus-
trious Sir, the acrimonious judgment passed by a
celebrated northern journal upon you in particular,
and the Germans in general, has rather indisposed
you towards English poetry as well as criticism.
But you must not regard our critics, who are at
bottom good-natured fellows, considering their two
professions, — taking up the law in court, and laying

358 NOTICES OF THE 1820.

it down out of it. No one can more lament their
hasty and unfair judgment, in your particular, than
I do; and I so expressed myself to your friend
Schlegel, in 1816, at Coppet.

" In behalf of my t ten thousand' living brethren,
and of myself, I have thus far taken notice of an
opinion expressed with regard to ' English poetry
in general, and which merited notice, because it
was YOURS.

" My principal object in addressing you was to
testify my sincere respect and admiration of a man,
who, for half a century, has led the literature of a
great nation, and will go down to posterity as the
first literary character of his age.

" You have been fortunate, Sir, not only in the
writings which have illustrated your name, but in
the name itself, as being sufficiently musical for the
articulation of posterity. In this you have the ad-
vantage of some of your countrymen, whose names
would perhaps be immortal also — if any body could
pronounce them.

" It may, perhaps, be supposed, by this apparent
tone of levity, that I am wanting in intentional
respect towards you ; but this will be a mistake :
I am always flippant in prose. Considering you,
as I really and warmly do, in common with all your
own, and with most other nations, to be by far the
first literary character which has existed in Europe
since the death of Voltaire, I felt, and feel, desirous
to inscribe to you the following work, — not as being
either a tragedy or a poem, (for I cannot pronounce
upon its pretensions to be either one or the other,

1820. LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 359

or both, or neither,) but as a mark of esteem ana
admiration from a foreigner to the man who has been
hailed in Germany « THE GREAT GOETHE.'
" I have the honour to be,

" With the truest respect,

" Your most obedient and
" Very humble servant,

" BYRON.

" Ravenna, 8bre 14°, 1820.

" P. S. I perceive that in Germany, as well as in
Italy, there is a great struggle about what they call
« Classical' and « Romantic,' — terms which were not
subjects of classification in England, at least when 1
left it four or five years ago. Some of the English
scribblers, it is true, abused Pope and Swift, but the
reason was that they themselves did not know how
to write either prose or verse ; but nobody thought
them worth making a sect of. Perhaps there may
be something of the kind sprung up lately, but I
have not heard much about it, and it would be such
bad taste that I shall be very sorry to believe it."

END OF THE FOURTH VOLUME.

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