d-d to it, to its last clerk and first charlatan, I can make it out to my own satisfaction, Castlereagh. I won't have any part published. "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 certainly 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 suppose 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. 66 : 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 Lord Guilford 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 write in haste, and after having lately written very often. "Yours, &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. "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 gallerythe Venus; Canova's Venus also in the other gallery: Titian's mistress is also in the other gallery (that is, in the Pitti Palace gallery); the Parcæ 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. 2["What is her pyramid of precious stones? 3 [ 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 unchronological, of whom I am one. But all your allegory and eulogy is infernal, and worse than the long wigs 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 magnesia, 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 You must wait; week or two, or so. act. at Manfred's third I'll have at it in a "Yours ever, &c." LETTER 277. TO MR. MURRAY. 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 enabled presently to judge), in the completion of a design which he had, through two acts, so magnificently carried on,-the impatience with which, though conscious of this failure, he as usual hurried to the press, without deignRome, May 5. 1817. ing to woo, or wait for, a happier mo"By this post (or next at farthest) I send ment of inspiration,- his frank docility in, you, in two other covers, the new third act at once, surrendering up his third act to of Manfred.' I have re-written the greater reprobation, without urging one parental part, and returned what is not altered in the word in its behalf,-the doubt he evidently proof you sent me. The Abbot is become a felt, whether, from his habit of striking off good man, and the Spirits are brought in these creations at a heat, he should be able at the death. You will find, I think, some to rekindle his imagination on the subject,good poetry in this new act, here and there; and then, lastly, the complete success with and if so print it, without sending me farther which, when his mind did make the spring, proofs, under Mr. Gifford's correction, if he he at once cleared the whole space by which will have the goodness to overlook it. Ad- he before fell short of perfection, - all these dress all answers to Venice, as usual; I mean circumstances, connected with the producto return there in ten days. tion of this grand poem, lay open to us fea tures, 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. "The Lament of Tasso,' which I sent from Florence, has, I trust, arrived: I look upon it as a '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 1["Pope's primary and principal purpose was to be a poet, with which his father accidentally concurred, by proposing subjects, and obliging him to correct his per As a literary curiosity, and, still more, as formances by many revisals; after which, the old gentleman, when he was satisfied, would say, these be good rhymes.'"-JOHNSON.] 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, immediately after, add-on the height is the Chateau 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. 66 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 erroneous 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 "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?' "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 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 Lombardy, because I am wretched at being away from Marianna. I have been riding my saddlehorses 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 landscape, 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 persons 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 excellent officer, and has married a very nice little woman 3, who will bring him more babes than income; howbeit she had a handsome dowry, and is a 3 [George-Anson Byron, the present Lord, married, in 1816, Elizabeth-Mary, daughter of Sacheverell Chandos Pole, Esq. of Radborne, Derbyshire. The child here spoken of is Mary-Anne, married, in 1834, to John Blenkinsopp Coulson, Esq. of Blenkinsopp Castle.] "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." "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 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. 66 Of Rome I say nothing; it is quite indescribable, and the Guide-book is as good as any other. 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. 66 "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. "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 mention. 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. 66 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 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 horrible, 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 ET. 29. ROME. PINDEMONTE. our ancestors. The pain seems little; and yet the effect to the spectator, and the preparation to the criminal, are 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. 66 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 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 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 Aris! 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 byJasus 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 357 the country round to Alba, Tivoli, Frescati, Licenza, &c. &c.; besides, I visited twice the Fall of Terni, which beats every thing. 1 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 having already seen the galleries and other sights. I left my commendatory letters the evening before I went, so I saw nobody. He "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. 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 3; 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. 66 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 "Per cui la fama in te chiara risuona Egregia, eccelsa, alma Verona.' "whose name, August Verona, forms thy fairest fame.' I mean Ippolito Pindemonte, a poet who has caught a portion of that sun, whose setting beams yet gild the horizon of Italy. Mr. Forsyth, our best Italian traveller, sums up the merits of this gentleman by saying, that he thinks, and makes his readers think. Were I confined to the same number of words, I should say that he feels, and makes his readers feel.” — Italy, vol. i. p. 45. Pindemonte died at Verona in November 1828, in his seventy-sixth year.] |