Chapter 4

"'Et lorsqu'à ses regards la lumière est ravie,Il n'a plus, en mourant, à perdre que la vie.'

This is, word for word, Thomson's

"'And dying, all we can resign is breath,'

without the smallest acknowledgment from the Lorrainer of a poet. M. St. Lambert is dead as a man, and (for any thing I know to the contrary) damned, as a poet, by this time. However, his Seasons have good things, and, it may be, some of his own.

"February 2. 1821

"I have been considering what can be the reason why I always wake, at a certain hour in the morning, and always in very bad spirits—I may say, in actual despair and despondency, in all respects—even of that which pleased me over night. In about an hour or two, this goes off, and I compose either to sleep again, or, at least, to quiet. In England, five years ago, I had the same kind of hypochondria, but accompanied with so violent a thirst that I have drank as many as fifteen bottles of soda-water in one night, after going to bed, and been still thirsty—calculating, however, some lost from the bursting out and effervescence and over-flowing of the soda-water, in drawing the corks, orstriking off the necks of the bottles from mere thirsty impatience. At present, I havenotthe thirst; but the depression of spirits is no less violent.

"I read in Edgeworth's Memoirs of something similar (except that his thirst expended itself onsmall beer) in the case of Sir F.B. Delaval;—but then he was, at least, twenty years older. What is it?—liver? In England, Le Man (the apothecary) cured me of the thirst in three days, and it had lasted as many years. I suppose that it is all hypochondria.

"What I feel most growing upon me are laziness, and a disrelish more powerful than indifference. It I rouse, it is into fury. I presume that I shall end (if not earlier by accident, or some such termination) like Swift—'dying at top.' I confess I do not contemplate this with so much horror as he apparently did for some years before it happened. But Swift had hardlybegun lifeat the very period (thirty-three) when I feel quite anold sortof feel.

"Oh! there is an organ playing in the street—a waltz, too! I must leave off to listen. They are playing a waltz which I have heard ten thousand times at the balls in London, between 1812 and 1815. Music is a strange thing[23].

"February 5. 1821.

"At last, 'the kiln's in a low.' The Germans are ordered to march, and Italy is, for the ten thousandth time, to become a field of battle. Last night the news came.

"This afternoon—Count P.G. came to me to consult upon divers matters. We rode out together. They have sent off to the C. for orders. To-morrow the decision ought to arrive, and then something will be done. Returned—dined—read—went out—talked over matters. Made a purchase of some arms for the new enrolled Americani, who are all on tiptoe to march. Gave order for someharnessand portmanteaus necessary for the horses.

"Read some of Bowles's dispute about Pope, with all the replies and rejoinders. Perceive that my name has been lugged into the controversy, but have not time to state what I know of the subject. On some 'piping day of peace' it is probable that I may resume it.

"February 9. 1821.

"Before dinner wrote a little; also, before I rode out, Count P.G. called upon me, to let me know the result of the meeting of the Ciat F. and at B. * * returned late last night. Every thing was combined under the idea that the Barbarians would pass the Po on the 15th inst. Instead of this, from some previous information or otherwise, they have hastened their march and actually passed two days ago; so that all that can be done at present in Romagna is, to stand on the alert and wait for the advance of the Neapolitans. Every thing was ready, and the Neapolitans had sent on their own instructions and intentions, all calculated for thetenthandeleventh, on which days a general rising was to take place, under the supposition that the Barbarians could not advance before the 15th.

"As it is, they have but fifty or sixty thousand troops, a number with which they might as well attempt to conquer the world as secure Italy in its present state. The artillery marcheslast, and alone, and there is an idea of an attempt to cut part of them off. All this will much depend upon the first steps of the Neapolitans.Here, the public spirit is excellent, provided it be kept up. This will be seen by the event.

"It is probable that Italy will be delivered from the Barbarians if the Neapolitans will but stand firm, and are united among themselves.Herethey appear so.

"February 10. 1821.

"Day passed as usual—nothing new. Barbarians still in march—not well equipped, and, of course, not well received on their route. There is some talk of a commotion at Paris.

"Rode out between four and six—finished my letter to Murray on Bowles's pamphlets—added postscript. Passed the evening as usual—out till eleven—and subsequently at home.

"February 11. 1821.

"Wrote—had a copy taken of an extract from Petrarch's Letters, with reference to the conspiracy of the Doge, M. Faliero, containing the poet's opinionof the matter. Heard a heavy firing of cannon towards Comacchio—the Barbarians rejoicing for their principal pig's birthday, which is to-morrow—or Saint day—I forget which. Received a ticket for the first ball to-morrow. Shall not go to the first, but intend going to the second, as also to the Veglioni.

"February 13. 1821.

"To-day read a little in Louis B.'s Hollande, but have written nothing since the completion of the letter on the Pope controversy. Politics are quite misty for the present. The Barbarians still upon their march. It is not easy to divine what the Italians will now do.

"Was elected yesterday 'Socio' of the Carnival ball society. This is the fifth carnival that I have passed. In the four former, I racketed a good deal. In the present, I have been as sober as Lady Grace herself.

"February 14. 1821

"Much as usual. Wrote, before riding out, part of a scene of 'Sardanapalus.' The first act nearly finished. The rest of the day and evening as before—partly without, in conversazione—partly at home.

"Heard the particulars of the late fray at Russi, a town not far from this. It is exactly the fact of Romēo and Giulietta—notRomĕo, as the Barbarian writes it. Two families of Contadini (peasants) are at feud. At a ball, the younger part of the familiesforget their quarrel, and dance together. An old man of one of them enters, and reproves the young men for dancing with the females of the opposite family. The male relatives of the latter resent this. Both parties rush home and arm themselves. They meet directly, by moonlight, in the public way, and fight it out. Three are killed on the spot, and six wounded, most of them dangerously,—pretty well for two families, methinks—and allfact, of the last week. Another assassination has taken place at Cesenna,—in all aboutfortyin Romagna within the last three months. These people retain much of the middle ages.

"February 15. 1821.

"Last night finished the first act of Sardanapalus. To-night, or to-morrow, I ought to answer letters.

"February 16. 1821.

"Last night Il Conte P.G. sent a man with a bag full of bayonets, some muskets, and some hundreds of cartridges to my house, without apprizing me, though I had seen him not half an hour before. About ten days ago, when there was to be a rising here, the Liberals and my brethren Ci. asked me to purchase some arms for a certain few of our ragamuffins. I did so immediately, and ordered ammunition, &c. and they were armed accordingly. Well—the rising is prevented by the Barbarians marching a week sooner than appointed; and anorderis issued, and in force, by the Government, 'that allpersons having arms concealed, &c. &c. shall be liable to,' &c. &c.—and what do my friends, the patriots, do two days afterwards? Why, they throw back upon my hands, and into my house, these very arms (without a word of warning previously) with which I had furnished them at their own request, and at my own peril and expense.

"It was lucky that Lega was at home to receive them. If any of the servants had (except Tita and F. and Lega) they would have betrayed it immediately. In the mean time, if they are denounced or discovered, I shall be in a scrape.

"At nine went out—at eleven returned. Beat the crow for stealing the falcon's victuals. Read 'Tales of my Landlord'—wrote a letter—and mixed a moderate beaker of water with other ingredients.

"February 18. 1821.

"The news are that the Neapolitans have broken a bridge, and slain four pontifical carabiniers, whilk carabiniers wished to oppose. Besides the disrespect to neutrality, it is a pity that the first blood shed in this German quarrel should be Italian. However, the war seems begun in good earnest: for, if the Neapolitans kill the Pope's carabiniers, they will not be more delicate towards the Barbarians. If it be even so, in a short time 'there will be news o' thae craws,' as Mrs. Alison Wilson says of Jenny Blane's 'unco cockernony' in the 'Tales of my Landlord.'

"In turning over Grimm's Correspondence to-day,I found a thought of Tom Moore's in a song of Maupertuis to a female Laplander.

"'Et tous les lieux,Où sont ses yeux,Font la Zone brûlante.'

This is Moore's,

"'And those eyes make my climate, wherever I roam.'

But I am sure that Moore never saw it; for this was published in Grimm's Correspondence in 1813, and I knew Moore's by heart in 1812. There is also another, but an antithetical coincidence—

"'Le soleil luit,Des jours sans nuitBientôt il nous destine;Mais ces longs joursSeront trop courts,Passés près des Christine.'

This is thethought reversed, of the last stanza of the ballad on Charlotte Lynes, given in Miss Seward's Memoirs of Darwin, which is pretty—I quote from memory of these last fifteen years.

"'For my first night I'll goTo those regions of snowWhere the sun for six months never shines;And think, even then,He too soon came again,To disturb me with fair Charlotte Lynes.'

"To-day I have had no communication with my Carbonari cronies; but, in the mean time, my lower apartments are full of their bayonets, fusils, cartridges, and what not. I suppose that they consider me as a depôt, to be sacrificed, in case of accidents. It is no great matter, supposing that Italy could be liberated, who or what is sacrificed. It is a grand object—the verypoetryof politics. Only think—a free Italy!!! Why, there has been nothing like it since the days of Augustus. I reckon the times of Cæsar (Julius) free; because the commotions left every body a side to take, and the parties were pretty equal at the set out. But, afterwards, it was all praetorian and legionary business—and since!—we shall see, or, at least, some will see, what card will turn up. It is best to hope, even of the hopeless. The Dutch did more than these fellows have to do, in the Seventy Years' War.

"February 19. 1821.

"Came home solus—very high wind—lightning—moonshine—solitary stragglers muffled in cloaks—women in mask—white houses—clouds hurrying over the sky, like spilt milk blown out of the pail—altogether very poetical. It is still blowing hard—the tiles flying, and the house rocking—rain splashing—lightning flashing—quite a fine Swiss Alpine evening, and the sea roaring in the distance.

"Visited—conversazione. All the women frightened by the squall: theywon'tgo to the masquerade because it lightens—the pious reason!

"Still blowing away. A. has sent me some news to-day. The war approaches nearer and nearer. Oh those scoundrel sovereigns! Let us but seethem beaten—let the Neapolitans but have the pluck of the Dutch of old, or the Spaniards of now, or of the German Protestants, the Scotch Presbyterians, the Swiss under Tell, or the Greeks under Themistocles—allsmall and solitary nations (except the Spaniards and German Lutherans), and there is yet a resurrection for Italy, and a hope for the world.

"February 20. 1821.

"The news of the day are, that the Neapolitans are full of energy. The public spirit here is certainly well kept up. The 'Americani' (a patriotic society here, an under branch of the 'Carbonari') give a dinner inthe Forestin a few days, and have invited me, as one of the Ci. It is to be inthe Forestof Boccacio's and Dryden's 'Huntsman's Ghost;' and, even if I had not the same political feelings, (to say nothing of my old convivial turn, which every now and then revives,) I would go as a poet, or, at least, as a lover of poetry. I shall expect to see the spectre of 'Ostasio[24]degli Onesti' (Dryden has turned him into Guido Cavalcanti—an essentially different person, as may be found in Dante) come 'thundering for his prey' in the midst of the festival. At any rate, whether he does or no. I will get as tipsy and patriotic as possible.

"Within these few days I have read, but not written.

"February 21, 1821.

"As usual, rode—visited, &c. Business begins to thicken. The Pope has printed a declaration against the patriots, who, he says, meditate a rising. The consequence of all this will be, that, in a fortnight, the whole country will be up. The proclamation is not yet published, but printed, ready for distribution. * * sent me a copy privately—a sign that he does not know what to think. When he wants to be well with the patriots, he sends to me some civil message or other.

"For my own part, it seems to me, that nothing but the most decided success of the Barbarians can prevent a general and immediate rise of the whole nation.

"February 23, 1821.

"Almost ditto with yesterday—rode, &c.—visited—wrote nothing—read Roman History.

"Had a curious letter from a fellow, who informs me that the Barbarians are ill-disposed towards me. He is probably a spy, or an impostor. But be it so, even as he says. They cannot bestow their hostility on one who loathes and execrates them more than I do, or who will oppose their views with more zeal, when the opportunity offers.

"February 24, 1821.

"Rode, &c. as usual. The secret intelligence arrived this morning from the frontier to the Ci. is as bad as possible. Theplanhas missed—the Chiefs are betrayed, military, as well as civil—and the Neapolitans not only havenotmoved, but havedeclared to the P. government, and to the Barbarians, that they know nothing of the matter!!!

"Thus the world goes; and thus the Italians are always lost for lack of union among themselves. What is to be donehere, between the two fires, and cut off from the Northern frontier, is not decided. My opinion was,—better to rise than be taken in detail; but how it will be settled now, I cannot tell. Messengers are despatched to the delegates of the other cities to learn their resolutions.

"I always had an idea that it would bebungled; but was willing to hope, and am so still. Whatever I can do by money, means, or person, I will venture freely for their freedom; and have so repeated to them (some of the Chiefs here) half an hour ago. I have two thousand five hundred scudi, better than five hundred pounds, in the house, which I offered to begin with.

"February 25. 1821.

"Came home—my head aches—plenty of news, but too tiresome to set down. I have neither read nor written, nor thought, but led a purely animal life all day. I mean to try to write a page or two before I go to bed. But, as Squire Sullen says, 'My head aches consumedly: Scrub, bring me a dram!' Drank some Imola wine, and some punch.

"Log-book continued[25].

"February 27. 1821.

"I have been a day without continuing the log, because I could not find a blank book. At length I recollected this.

"Rode, &c.—dined—wrote down an additional stanza for the 5th canto of D.J. which I had composed in bed this morning. Visitedl'Amica. We are invited, on the night of the Veglione (next Domenica) with the Marchesa Clelia Cavalli and the Countess Spinelli Rusponi. I promised to go. Last night there was a row at the ball, of which I am a 'socio.' The Vice-legate had the imprudent insolence to introducethreeof his servants in masque—without tickets,too! and in spite of remonstrances. The consequence was, that the young men of the ball took it up, and were near throwing the Vice-legate out of the window. His servants, seeing the scene, withdrew, and he after them. His reverence Monsignore ought to know, that these are not times for the predominance of priests over decorum. Two minutes more, two steps farther, and the whole city would have been in arms, and the government driven out of it.

"Such is the spirit of the day, and these fellows appear not to perceive it. As far as the simple fact went, the young men were right, servants being prohibited always at these festivals.

"Yesterday wrote two notes on the 'Bowles and Pope' controversy, and sent them off to Murray by the post. The old woman whom I relieved in the forest (she is ninety-four years of age) brought me two bunches of violets. 'Nam vita gaudet mortua floribus,' I was much pleased with the present. An English woman would have presented a pair of worsted stockings, at least, in the month of February. Both excellent things; but the former are moreelegant. The present, at this season, reminds one of Gray's stanza, omitted from his elegy:—

"'Here scatter'd oft, theearliestof the year,By hands unseen, are showers of violets found;The red-breast loves to build and warble here,And little footsteps lightly print the ground.'

As fine a stanza as any in his elegy. I wonder that he could have the heart to omit it.

"Last night I suffered horribly—from an indigestion, I believe. Ineversup—that is, never at home. But, last night, I was prevailed upon by the Countess Gamba's persuasion, and the strenuous example of her brother, to swallow, at supper, a quantity of boiled cockles, and to dilute them,notreluctantly, with some Imola wine. When I came home, apprehensive of the consequences, I swallowed three or four glasses of spirits, which men (the venders) call brandy, rum, or hollands, but which Gods would entitle spirits of wine, coloured or sugared. All was pretty well till I got to bed, when I became somewhat swollen, and considerably vertiginous. I got out, and mixing some soda-powders, drank them off. This brought on temporary relief. I returned to bed; but grew sick and sorry once and again. Took more soda-water. At last I fell into a dreary sleep. Woke, and was ill all day, till I had galloped a few miles. Query—was it the cockles, or what I took to correct them, that caused the commotion? I think both. I remarked in my illness the complete inertion, inaction, and destruction of my chief mental faculties. I triedto rouse them, and yet could not—and this is theSoul!!!I should believe that it was married to the body, if they did not sympathise so much with each other. If the one rose, when the other fell, it would be a sign that they longed for the natural state of divorce. But as it is, they seem to draw together like post-horses.

"Let us hope the best—it is the grand possession."

During the two months comprised in this Journal, some of the Letters of the following series were written. The reader must, therefore, be prepared to find in them occasional notices of the same train of events.

LETTER 404. TO MR. MOORE.

"Ravenna, January 2. 1821."Your entering into my project for the Memoir is pleasant to me. But I doubt (contrary to my dear MadeMac F * *, whom I always loved, and always shall—not only because I reallydidfeel attached to herpersonally, but because she and about a dozen others of that sex were all who stuck by me in the grand conflict of 1815)—but I doubt, I say, whether the Memoir could appear in my lifetime;—and, indeed, I had rather it did not; for a man alwayslooks deadafter his Life has appeared, and I should certes not survive the appearance of mine. The first part I cannot consent to alter, even although Made. de S.'s opinion of B.C. and myremarks upon Lady C.'s beauty (which is surely great, and I suppose that I have said so—at least, I ought) should go down to our grandchildren in unsophisticated nakedness."As to Madame de S * *, I am by no means bound to be her beadsman—she was always more civil to me in person than during my absence. Our dear defunct friend, M * * L * *[26], who wastoo great a bore ever to lie, assured me upon his tiresome word of honour, that, at Florence, the said Madame de S * * was open-mouthedagainst me; and when asked, inSwitzerland,whyshe had changed her opinion, replied, with laudable sincerity, that I had named her in a sonnet with Voltaire, Rousseau, &c. &c. and that she could not help it through decency. Now, I have not forgotten this, but I have been generous,—as mine acquaintance, the late Captain Whitby, of the navy, used to say to his seamen (when 'married to the gunner's daughter')—'two dozen, and let you off easy.' The 'two dozen' were with the cat-o'-nine tails;—the 'let you off easy' was rather his own opinion than that of the patient."My acquaintance with these terms and practices arises from my having been much conversant with ships of war and naval heroes in the year of my voyages in the Mediterranean. Whitby was in the gallant action off Lissa in 1811. He was brave, but a disciplinarian. When he left his frigate, he left aparrot, which was taught by the crew the following sounds—(it must be remarked that Captain Whitby was the image of Fawcett the actor, in voice, face, and figure, and that he squinted)."The Parrotloquitur."'Whitby! Whitby! funny eye! funny eye! two dozen, and let you off easy. Oh you ——!'"Now, if Madame de B. has a parrot, it had better be taught a French parody of the same sounds."With regard to our purposed Journal, I will call it what you please, but it should be a newspaper, to make itpay. We can call it 'The Harp,' if you like—or any thing."I feel exactly as you do about our 'art[27],'but it comes over me in a kind of rage every now and then, like * * * *, and then, if I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad. As to that regular, uninterrupted love of writing, which you describe in your friend, I do not understand it. I feel it as a torture, which I must get rid of, but never as a pleasure. On the contrary, I think composition a great pain."I wish you to think seriously of the Journal scheme—for I am as serious as one can be, in this world, about any thing. As to matters here, they are high and mighty—but not for paper. It is much about the state of things betwixt Cain and Abel. There is, in fact, no law or government at all; and it is wonderful how well things go on without them. Excepting a few occasional murders, (every body killing whomsoever he pleases, and being killed, in turn, by a friend, or relative, of the defunct,) there is as quiet a society and as merry a Carnival as can be met with in a tour through Europe. There is nothing like habit in these things."I shall remain here till May or June, and, unless 'honour comes unlocked for,' we may perhaps meet, in France or England, within the year."Yours, &c."Of course, I cannot explain to you existing circumstances, as they open all letters."Will you set me right about your curst 'Champs Elysées?'—are they 'és' or 'ées' for the adjective? I know nothing of French, being all Italian. Though I can read and understand French, I never attempt to speak it; for I hate it. From the second part of the Memoirs cut what you please."

"Ravenna, January 2. 1821.

"Your entering into my project for the Memoir is pleasant to me. But I doubt (contrary to my dear MadeMac F * *, whom I always loved, and always shall—not only because I reallydidfeel attached to herpersonally, but because she and about a dozen others of that sex were all who stuck by me in the grand conflict of 1815)—but I doubt, I say, whether the Memoir could appear in my lifetime;—and, indeed, I had rather it did not; for a man alwayslooks deadafter his Life has appeared, and I should certes not survive the appearance of mine. The first part I cannot consent to alter, even although Made. de S.'s opinion of B.C. and myremarks upon Lady C.'s beauty (which is surely great, and I suppose that I have said so—at least, I ought) should go down to our grandchildren in unsophisticated nakedness.

"As to Madame de S * *, I am by no means bound to be her beadsman—she was always more civil to me in person than during my absence. Our dear defunct friend, M * * L * *[26], who wastoo great a bore ever to lie, assured me upon his tiresome word of honour, that, at Florence, the said Madame de S * * was open-mouthedagainst me; and when asked, inSwitzerland,whyshe had changed her opinion, replied, with laudable sincerity, that I had named her in a sonnet with Voltaire, Rousseau, &c. &c. and that she could not help it through decency. Now, I have not forgotten this, but I have been generous,—as mine acquaintance, the late Captain Whitby, of the navy, used to say to his seamen (when 'married to the gunner's daughter')—'two dozen, and let you off easy.' The 'two dozen' were with the cat-o'-nine tails;—the 'let you off easy' was rather his own opinion than that of the patient.

"My acquaintance with these terms and practices arises from my having been much conversant with ships of war and naval heroes in the year of my voyages in the Mediterranean. Whitby was in the gallant action off Lissa in 1811. He was brave, but a disciplinarian. When he left his frigate, he left aparrot, which was taught by the crew the following sounds—(it must be remarked that Captain Whitby was the image of Fawcett the actor, in voice, face, and figure, and that he squinted).

"The Parrotloquitur.

"'Whitby! Whitby! funny eye! funny eye! two dozen, and let you off easy. Oh you ——!'

"Now, if Madame de B. has a parrot, it had better be taught a French parody of the same sounds.

"With regard to our purposed Journal, I will call it what you please, but it should be a newspaper, to make itpay. We can call it 'The Harp,' if you like—or any thing.

"I feel exactly as you do about our 'art[27],'but it comes over me in a kind of rage every now and then, like * * * *, and then, if I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad. As to that regular, uninterrupted love of writing, which you describe in your friend, I do not understand it. I feel it as a torture, which I must get rid of, but never as a pleasure. On the contrary, I think composition a great pain.

"I wish you to think seriously of the Journal scheme—for I am as serious as one can be, in this world, about any thing. As to matters here, they are high and mighty—but not for paper. It is much about the state of things betwixt Cain and Abel. There is, in fact, no law or government at all; and it is wonderful how well things go on without them. Excepting a few occasional murders, (every body killing whomsoever he pleases, and being killed, in turn, by a friend, or relative, of the defunct,) there is as quiet a society and as merry a Carnival as can be met with in a tour through Europe. There is nothing like habit in these things.

"I shall remain here till May or June, and, unless 'honour comes unlocked for,' we may perhaps meet, in France or England, within the year.

"Yours, &c.

"Of course, I cannot explain to you existing circumstances, as they open all letters.

"Will you set me right about your curst 'Champs Elysées?'—are they 'és' or 'ées' for the adjective? I know nothing of French, being all Italian. Though I can read and understand French, I never attempt to speak it; for I hate it. From the second part of the Memoirs cut what you please."

LETTER 405. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Ravenna, January 4. 1821."I just see, by the papers of Galignani, that there is a new tragedy of great expectation, by BarryCornwall. Of what I have read of his works Hiked theDramaticSketches, but thought his Sicilian Story and Marcian Colonna, in rhyme, quite spoilt, by I know not what affectation of Wordsworth, and Moore, and myself, all mixed up into a kind of chaos. I think him very likely to produce a good tragedy, if he keep to a natural style, and not play tricks to form harlequinades for an audience. As he (Barry Cornwall is not histruename) was a schoolfellow of mine, I take more than common interest in his success, and shall be glad to hear of it speedily. If I had been aware that he was in that line, I should have spoken of him in the preface to Marino Faliero. He will do a world's wonder if he produce a great tragedy. I am, however, persuaded, that this is not to be done by following the old dramatists,—who are full of gross faults, pardoned only for the beauty of their language,—but by writing naturally andregularly, and producingregulartragedies, like theGreeks; but not inimitation,—merely the outline of their conduct, adapted to our own times and circumstances, and of coursenochorus."You will laugh, and say, 'Why don't you do so?' I have, you see, tried a sketch in Marino Faliero; but many people think my talent 'essentially undramatic,' and I am not at all clear that they are not right. If Marino Faliero don't fall—in the perusal—I shall, perhaps, try again (but not for the stage); and, as I think thatloveis not the principal passion for tragedy (and yet most of ours turn upon it), you will not find me a popular writer. Unless it is love,furious, criminal, andhapless, it ought notto make a tragic subject. When it is melting and maudlin, itdoes, but it ought not to do; it is then for the gallery and second-price boxes."If you want to have a notion of what I am trying, take up atranslationof any of theGreektragedians. If I said the original, it would be an impudent presumption of mine; but the translations are so inferior to the originals, that I think I may risk it Then judge of the 'simplicity of plot,' &c. and do not judge me by your old mad dramatists, which is like drinking usquebaugh and then proving a fountain. Yet after all, I suppose that you do not mean that spirits is a nobler element than a clear spring bubbling in the sun? and this I take to be the difference between the Greeks and those turbid mountebanks—always excepting Ben Jonson, who was a scholar and a classic. Or, take up a translation of Alfieri, and try the interest, &c. of these my new attempts in the old line, byhiminEnglish; and then tell me fairly your opinion. But don't measure me by YOUR OWNoldornewtailors' yards. Nothing so easy as intricate confusion of plot and rant. Mrs. Centlivre, in comedy, hasten times the bustle of Congreve; but are they to be compared? and yet she drove Congreve from the theatre."

"Ravenna, January 4. 1821.

"I just see, by the papers of Galignani, that there is a new tragedy of great expectation, by BarryCornwall. Of what I have read of his works Hiked theDramaticSketches, but thought his Sicilian Story and Marcian Colonna, in rhyme, quite spoilt, by I know not what affectation of Wordsworth, and Moore, and myself, all mixed up into a kind of chaos. I think him very likely to produce a good tragedy, if he keep to a natural style, and not play tricks to form harlequinades for an audience. As he (Barry Cornwall is not histruename) was a schoolfellow of mine, I take more than common interest in his success, and shall be glad to hear of it speedily. If I had been aware that he was in that line, I should have spoken of him in the preface to Marino Faliero. He will do a world's wonder if he produce a great tragedy. I am, however, persuaded, that this is not to be done by following the old dramatists,—who are full of gross faults, pardoned only for the beauty of their language,—but by writing naturally andregularly, and producingregulartragedies, like theGreeks; but not inimitation,—merely the outline of their conduct, adapted to our own times and circumstances, and of coursenochorus.

"You will laugh, and say, 'Why don't you do so?' I have, you see, tried a sketch in Marino Faliero; but many people think my talent 'essentially undramatic,' and I am not at all clear that they are not right. If Marino Faliero don't fall—in the perusal—I shall, perhaps, try again (but not for the stage); and, as I think thatloveis not the principal passion for tragedy (and yet most of ours turn upon it), you will not find me a popular writer. Unless it is love,furious, criminal, andhapless, it ought notto make a tragic subject. When it is melting and maudlin, itdoes, but it ought not to do; it is then for the gallery and second-price boxes.

"If you want to have a notion of what I am trying, take up atranslationof any of theGreektragedians. If I said the original, it would be an impudent presumption of mine; but the translations are so inferior to the originals, that I think I may risk it Then judge of the 'simplicity of plot,' &c. and do not judge me by your old mad dramatists, which is like drinking usquebaugh and then proving a fountain. Yet after all, I suppose that you do not mean that spirits is a nobler element than a clear spring bubbling in the sun? and this I take to be the difference between the Greeks and those turbid mountebanks—always excepting Ben Jonson, who was a scholar and a classic. Or, take up a translation of Alfieri, and try the interest, &c. of these my new attempts in the old line, byhiminEnglish; and then tell me fairly your opinion. But don't measure me by YOUR OWNoldornewtailors' yards. Nothing so easy as intricate confusion of plot and rant. Mrs. Centlivre, in comedy, hasten times the bustle of Congreve; but are they to be compared? and yet she drove Congreve from the theatre."

LETTER 406. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Ravenna, January 19. 1821."Yours of the 29th ultimo hath arrived. I must, really and seriously request that you will beg of Messrs. Harris or Elliston to let the Doge alone: itisnotan acting play; it will not servetheirpurpose; it will destroyyours(the sale); and it will distress me. It is not courteous, it is hardly even gentlemanly, to persist in this appropriation of a man's writings to their mountebanks."I have already sent you by last post a short protest[28]to the public (against this proceeding); in case thattheypersist, which I trust that they will not, you must then publish it in the newspapers. I shall not let them off with that only, if they go on; but make a longer appeal on that subject, and state what I think the injustice of their mode of behaviour. It is hard that I should have all the buffoons in Britain to deal with—pirateswhowillpublish, andplayerswhowillact—when there are thousands of worthy men who can get neither bookseller nor manager for love nor money."You never answered me a word aboutGalignani. If you mean to use the twodocuments, do; if not,burnthem. I do not choose to leave them in any one's possession: suppose some one found themwithout the letters, what would theythink? why, thatIhad been doing theoppositeof what Ihavedone, to wit, referred the whole thing to you—an act of civility at least, which required saying, 'I have received your letter.' I thought that you might have some hold upon those publications by this means; tomeit can be no interest one way or the other.[29]"Thethirdcanto of Don Juan is 'dull,' but you must really put up with it: if the two first and the two following are tolerable, what do you expect? particularly as I neither dispute with you on it as a matter of criticism, nor as a matter of business."Besides, what am I to understand? you and Douglas Kinnaird, and others, write to me, that the two first published cantos are among the best that I ever wrote, and are reckoned so; Augusta writes that they are thought 'execrable' (bitter wordthatfor an author—eh, Murray?) as acompositioneven, and that she had heard so much against them that she wouldnever read them, and never has. Be that as it may, I can't alter; that is not my forte. If you publish the three new ones without ostentation, they may perhaps succeed."Pray publish the Dante and thePulci(theProphecy of Dante, I mean). I look upon the Pulci as my grand performance.[30]The remainder of the'Hints,' where be they? Now, bring them all out about the same time, otherwise 'thevariety' you wot of will be less obvious."I am in bad humour: some obstructions in business with those plaguy trustees, who object to an advantageous loan which I was to furnish to a nobleman on mortgage, because his property is inIreland, have shown me how a man is treated in his absence. Oh, if Idocome back, I will make some of those who little dream of itspin—or they or I shall go down."

"Ravenna, January 19. 1821.

"Yours of the 29th ultimo hath arrived. I must, really and seriously request that you will beg of Messrs. Harris or Elliston to let the Doge alone: itisnotan acting play; it will not servetheirpurpose; it will destroyyours(the sale); and it will distress me. It is not courteous, it is hardly even gentlemanly, to persist in this appropriation of a man's writings to their mountebanks.

"I have already sent you by last post a short protest[28]to the public (against this proceeding); in case thattheypersist, which I trust that they will not, you must then publish it in the newspapers. I shall not let them off with that only, if they go on; but make a longer appeal on that subject, and state what I think the injustice of their mode of behaviour. It is hard that I should have all the buffoons in Britain to deal with—pirateswhowillpublish, andplayerswhowillact—when there are thousands of worthy men who can get neither bookseller nor manager for love nor money.

"You never answered me a word aboutGalignani. If you mean to use the twodocuments, do; if not,burnthem. I do not choose to leave them in any one's possession: suppose some one found themwithout the letters, what would theythink? why, thatIhad been doing theoppositeof what Ihavedone, to wit, referred the whole thing to you—an act of civility at least, which required saying, 'I have received your letter.' I thought that you might have some hold upon those publications by this means; tomeit can be no interest one way or the other.[29]

"Thethirdcanto of Don Juan is 'dull,' but you must really put up with it: if the two first and the two following are tolerable, what do you expect? particularly as I neither dispute with you on it as a matter of criticism, nor as a matter of business.

"Besides, what am I to understand? you and Douglas Kinnaird, and others, write to me, that the two first published cantos are among the best that I ever wrote, and are reckoned so; Augusta writes that they are thought 'execrable' (bitter wordthatfor an author—eh, Murray?) as acompositioneven, and that she had heard so much against them that she wouldnever read them, and never has. Be that as it may, I can't alter; that is not my forte. If you publish the three new ones without ostentation, they may perhaps succeed.

"Pray publish the Dante and thePulci(theProphecy of Dante, I mean). I look upon the Pulci as my grand performance.[30]The remainder of the'Hints,' where be they? Now, bring them all out about the same time, otherwise 'thevariety' you wot of will be less obvious.

"I am in bad humour: some obstructions in business with those plaguy trustees, who object to an advantageous loan which I was to furnish to a nobleman on mortgage, because his property is inIreland, have shown me how a man is treated in his absence. Oh, if Idocome back, I will make some of those who little dream of itspin—or they or I shall go down."

LETTER 407. TO MR. MURRAY.

"January 20. 1821."I did not think to have troubled you with the plague and postage of adouble letterthis time, but I have just read in anItalian paper, 'That Lord Byron has a tragedy coming out,' &c. &c. &c. and that the Courier and Morning Chronicle, &c. &c. are pulling one another to pieces about it and him, &c."Now I do reiterate and desire, that every thingmay be done to prevent it from coming out onany theatre, for which it never was designed, and on which (in the present state of the stage of London) it could never succeed. I have sent you my appeal by last post, which youmust publish in case of need; and I require you even inyour own name(if my honour is dear to you) to declare that such representation would be contrary to mywish and to my judgment. If you do not wish to drive me mad altogether, you will hit upon some way to prevent this."Yours, &c."P.S. I cannot conceive how Harris or Elliston should be so insane as to think of acting Marino Faliero; they might as well act the Prometheus of Aeschylus. I speak of course humbly, and with the greatest sense of the distance of time and merit between the two performances; but merely to show the absurdity of the attempt."The Italian paper speaks of a 'party against it;' to be sure there would be a party. Can you imagine, that after having never flattered man, nor beast, nor opinion, nor politics, there wouldnotbe a party against a man, who is also apopularwriter—at least a successful? Why, all parties would be a party against."

"January 20. 1821.

"I did not think to have troubled you with the plague and postage of adouble letterthis time, but I have just read in anItalian paper, 'That Lord Byron has a tragedy coming out,' &c. &c. &c. and that the Courier and Morning Chronicle, &c. &c. are pulling one another to pieces about it and him, &c.

"Now I do reiterate and desire, that every thingmay be done to prevent it from coming out onany theatre, for which it never was designed, and on which (in the present state of the stage of London) it could never succeed. I have sent you my appeal by last post, which youmust publish in case of need; and I require you even inyour own name(if my honour is dear to you) to declare that such representation would be contrary to mywish and to my judgment. If you do not wish to drive me mad altogether, you will hit upon some way to prevent this.

"Yours, &c.

"P.S. I cannot conceive how Harris or Elliston should be so insane as to think of acting Marino Faliero; they might as well act the Prometheus of Aeschylus. I speak of course humbly, and with the greatest sense of the distance of time and merit between the two performances; but merely to show the absurdity of the attempt.

"The Italian paper speaks of a 'party against it;' to be sure there would be a party. Can you imagine, that after having never flattered man, nor beast, nor opinion, nor politics, there wouldnotbe a party against a man, who is also apopularwriter—at least a successful? Why, all parties would be a party against."

LETTER 408. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Ravenna, January 20. 1821."If Harris or Elliston persist, after the remonstrance which I desired you and Mr. Kinnaird tomake on my behalf, and which I hope will be sufficient—butif, I say, theydo persist, then I pray you topresent in personthe enclosed letter to the Lord Chamberlain: I have saidin person, because otherwise I shall have neither answer nor knowledge that it has reached its address, owing to 'the insolence of office.'"I wish you would speak to Lord Holland, and to all my friends and yours, to interest themselves in preventing this cursed attempt at representation."God help me! at this distance, I am treated like a corpse or a fool by the few people that I thought I could rely upon; and Iwasa fool to think any better of them than of the rest of mankind."Pray write. Yours, &c."P.S. I have nothing more at heart (that is, in literature) than to prevent this drama from going upon the stage: in short, rather than permit it, it must besuppressed altogether, and onlyforty copies struck off privatelyfor presents to my friends. What curst fools those speculating buffoons must benotto see that it is unfit for their fair—or their booth!"

"Ravenna, January 20. 1821.

"If Harris or Elliston persist, after the remonstrance which I desired you and Mr. Kinnaird tomake on my behalf, and which I hope will be sufficient—butif, I say, theydo persist, then I pray you topresent in personthe enclosed letter to the Lord Chamberlain: I have saidin person, because otherwise I shall have neither answer nor knowledge that it has reached its address, owing to 'the insolence of office.'

"I wish you would speak to Lord Holland, and to all my friends and yours, to interest themselves in preventing this cursed attempt at representation.

"God help me! at this distance, I am treated like a corpse or a fool by the few people that I thought I could rely upon; and Iwasa fool to think any better of them than of the rest of mankind.

"Pray write. Yours, &c.

"P.S. I have nothing more at heart (that is, in literature) than to prevent this drama from going upon the stage: in short, rather than permit it, it must besuppressed altogether, and onlyforty copies struck off privatelyfor presents to my friends. What curst fools those speculating buffoons must benotto see that it is unfit for their fair—or their booth!"

LETTER 409. TO MR. MOORE.

"Ravenna, January 22. 1821."Pray get well. I do not like your complaint. So, let me have a line to say you are up and doing again. To-day I am thirty-three years of age."Through life's road, &c. &c.[31]"Have you heard that the 'Braziers' Company have, or mean to present an address at Brandenburgh House, 'in armour,' and with all possible variety and splendour of brazen apparel?"The Braziers, it seems, are preparing to passAn address, and present it themselves all in brass—A superfluous pageant—for, by the Lord Harry,They'll find where they're going much more than they carry.There's an Ode for you, is it not?—worthy"Of * * * *, the grand metaquizzical poet,A man of vast merit, though few people know it;The perusal of whom (as I toldyouat Mestri)I owe, in great part, to my passion for pastry."Mestri and Fusina are the 'trajects, or common ferries,' to Venice; but it was from Fusina that you and I embarked, though 'the wicked necessity of rhyming' has made me press Mestri into the voyage."So, you have had a book dedicated to you? I am glad of it, and shall be very happy to see the volume."I am in a peck of troubles about a tragedy of mine, which is fit only for the (* * * * *) closet, and which it seems that the managers, assuming arightover published poetry, are determined to enact, whether I will or no, with their own alterations by Mr. Dibdin, I presume. I have written to Murray, to the Lord Chamberlain, and to others, to interfere and preserve me from such an exhibition. I want neither the impertinence of their hisses, nor the insolence of their applause. I write only for thereader, and care for nothing but thesilentapprobation of those who close one's book with good humour and quiet contentment."Now, if you would also write to our friend Perry, to beg of him to mediate with Harris and Elliston toforbearthis intent, you will greatly oblige me. The play is quite unfit for the stage, as a single glance will show them, and, I hope,hasshown them; and, if it were ever so fit, I will never have any thing to do willingly with the theatres."Yours ever, in haste," &c.

"Ravenna, January 22. 1821.

"Pray get well. I do not like your complaint. So, let me have a line to say you are up and doing again. To-day I am thirty-three years of age.

"Through life's road, &c. &c.[31]

"Have you heard that the 'Braziers' Company have, or mean to present an address at Brandenburgh House, 'in armour,' and with all possible variety and splendour of brazen apparel?

"The Braziers, it seems, are preparing to passAn address, and present it themselves all in brass—A superfluous pageant—for, by the Lord Harry,They'll find where they're going much more than they carry.

There's an Ode for you, is it not?—worthy

"Of * * * *, the grand metaquizzical poet,A man of vast merit, though few people know it;The perusal of whom (as I toldyouat Mestri)I owe, in great part, to my passion for pastry.

"Mestri and Fusina are the 'trajects, or common ferries,' to Venice; but it was from Fusina that you and I embarked, though 'the wicked necessity of rhyming' has made me press Mestri into the voyage.

"So, you have had a book dedicated to you? I am glad of it, and shall be very happy to see the volume.

"I am in a peck of troubles about a tragedy of mine, which is fit only for the (* * * * *) closet, and which it seems that the managers, assuming arightover published poetry, are determined to enact, whether I will or no, with their own alterations by Mr. Dibdin, I presume. I have written to Murray, to the Lord Chamberlain, and to others, to interfere and preserve me from such an exhibition. I want neither the impertinence of their hisses, nor the insolence of their applause. I write only for thereader, and care for nothing but thesilentapprobation of those who close one's book with good humour and quiet contentment.

"Now, if you would also write to our friend Perry, to beg of him to mediate with Harris and Elliston toforbearthis intent, you will greatly oblige me. The play is quite unfit for the stage, as a single glance will show them, and, I hope,hasshown them; and, if it were ever so fit, I will never have any thing to do willingly with the theatres.

"Yours ever, in haste," &c.

LETTER 410. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Ravenna, January 27. 1821."I differ from you about theDante, which I think should be published with the tragedy. But do as you please: you must be the best judge of your own craft. I agree with you about thetitle. The play may be good or bad, but I flatter myself that it is original as a picture ofthatkind of passion, which to my mind is so natural, that I am convinced that I should have done precisely what the Doge did on those provocations."I am glad of Foscolo's approbation."Excuse haste. I believe I mentioned to you that—I forget what it was; but no matter."Thanks for your compliments of the year. I hope that it will be pleasanter than the last. I speak with reference toEnglandonly, as far as regards myself,whereI had every kind of disappointment—lost an important law-suit—and the trustees of Lady Byron refusing to allow of an advantageous loan to be made from my property to Lord Blessington, &c. &c. by way of closing the four seasons. These, and a hundred other such things, made a year of bitter business for me in England. Luckily, things were a little pleasanter for mehere, else I should have taken the liberty of Hannibal's ring."Pray thank Gifford for all his goodnesses. The winter is as cold here as Parry's polarities. I must now take a canter in the forest; my horses are waiting."Yours ever and truly."

"Ravenna, January 27. 1821.

"I differ from you about theDante, which I think should be published with the tragedy. But do as you please: you must be the best judge of your own craft. I agree with you about thetitle. The play may be good or bad, but I flatter myself that it is original as a picture ofthatkind of passion, which to my mind is so natural, that I am convinced that I should have done precisely what the Doge did on those provocations.

"I am glad of Foscolo's approbation.

"Excuse haste. I believe I mentioned to you that—I forget what it was; but no matter.

"Thanks for your compliments of the year. I hope that it will be pleasanter than the last. I speak with reference toEnglandonly, as far as regards myself,whereI had every kind of disappointment—lost an important law-suit—and the trustees of Lady Byron refusing to allow of an advantageous loan to be made from my property to Lord Blessington, &c. &c. by way of closing the four seasons. These, and a hundred other such things, made a year of bitter business for me in England. Luckily, things were a little pleasanter for mehere, else I should have taken the liberty of Hannibal's ring.

"Pray thank Gifford for all his goodnesses. The winter is as cold here as Parry's polarities. I must now take a canter in the forest; my horses are waiting.

"Yours ever and truly."

LETTER 411. TO MR. MURRAY.

"Ravenna, February 2. 1821."Your letter of excuses has arrived. I receive the letter, but do not admit the excuses, except in courtesy; as when a man treads on your toes and begs your pardon, the pardon is granted, but the joint aches, especially if there be a corn upon it. However, I shall scold you presently."In the last speech of the Doge, there occurs (I think, from memory) the phrase"'And Thou who makest and unmakest suns:'change this to"'And Thou who kindlest and who quenchest suns;'that is to say, if the verse runs equally well, and Mr. Gifford thinks the expression improved. Pray have the bounty to attend to this. You are grownquite a minister of state. Mind if some of these days you are not thrown out. * * will not be always a Tory, though Johnson says the first Whig was the devil."You have learnt one secret from Mr. Galignani's (somewhat tardily acknowledged) correspondence: this is, that anEnglishauthor may dispose of his exclusive copyright inFrance—a fact of some consequence (intime of peace), in the case of a popular writer. Now I will tell you whatyoushall do, and take no advantage of you, though you were scurvy enough never to acknowledge my letter for three months. Offer Galignani the refusal of the copyright in France; if he refuses, appoint any bookseller in France you please, and I will sign any assignment you please, and it shall never cost you asouonmyaccount."Recollect that I will have nothing to do with it, except as far as it may secure the copyright to yourself. I will have no bargain but with the English booksellers, and I desire no interest out of that country."Now, that's fair and open, and a little handsomer than yourdodgingsilence, to see what would come of it. You are an excellent fellow, mio caro Moray, but there is still a little leaven of Fleet Street about you now and then—a crum of the old loaf. You have no right to act suspiciously with me, for I have given you no reason. I shall always be frank with you; as, for instance, whenever you talk with the votaries of Apollo arithmetically, it should be inguineas, not pounds—to poets, as well as physicians, and bidders at auctions."I shall say no more at this present, save that I am,"Yours, &c."P.S. If you venture, as you say, to Ravenna this year, I will exercise the rites of hospitality while you live, and bury you handsomely (though not in holy ground), if you get 'shot or slashed in a creagh or splore,' which are rather frequent here of late among the native parties. But perhaps your visit may be anticipated; I may probably come to your country; in which case write to her Ladyship the duplicate of the epistle the King of France wrote to Prince John."

"Ravenna, February 2. 1821.

"Your letter of excuses has arrived. I receive the letter, but do not admit the excuses, except in courtesy; as when a man treads on your toes and begs your pardon, the pardon is granted, but the joint aches, especially if there be a corn upon it. However, I shall scold you presently.

"In the last speech of the Doge, there occurs (I think, from memory) the phrase

"'And Thou who makest and unmakest suns:'

change this to

"'And Thou who kindlest and who quenchest suns;'

that is to say, if the verse runs equally well, and Mr. Gifford thinks the expression improved. Pray have the bounty to attend to this. You are grownquite a minister of state. Mind if some of these days you are not thrown out. * * will not be always a Tory, though Johnson says the first Whig was the devil.

"You have learnt one secret from Mr. Galignani's (somewhat tardily acknowledged) correspondence: this is, that anEnglishauthor may dispose of his exclusive copyright inFrance—a fact of some consequence (intime of peace), in the case of a popular writer. Now I will tell you whatyoushall do, and take no advantage of you, though you were scurvy enough never to acknowledge my letter for three months. Offer Galignani the refusal of the copyright in France; if he refuses, appoint any bookseller in France you please, and I will sign any assignment you please, and it shall never cost you asouonmyaccount.

"Recollect that I will have nothing to do with it, except as far as it may secure the copyright to yourself. I will have no bargain but with the English booksellers, and I desire no interest out of that country.

"Now, that's fair and open, and a little handsomer than yourdodgingsilence, to see what would come of it. You are an excellent fellow, mio caro Moray, but there is still a little leaven of Fleet Street about you now and then—a crum of the old loaf. You have no right to act suspiciously with me, for I have given you no reason. I shall always be frank with you; as, for instance, whenever you talk with the votaries of Apollo arithmetically, it should be inguineas, not pounds—to poets, as well as physicians, and bidders at auctions.

"I shall say no more at this present, save that I am,

"Yours, &c.

"P.S. If you venture, as you say, to Ravenna this year, I will exercise the rites of hospitality while you live, and bury you handsomely (though not in holy ground), if you get 'shot or slashed in a creagh or splore,' which are rather frequent here of late among the native parties. But perhaps your visit may be anticipated; I may probably come to your country; in which case write to her Ladyship the duplicate of the epistle the King of France wrote to Prince John."

LETTER 412. TO MR. MURRAY.

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