XX.

And Azo found another bride, 530 And goodly sons grew by his side; But none so lovely and so brave As him who withered in the grave;[429] Or if they were--on his cold eye Their growth but glanced unheeded by, Or noticed with a smothered sigh. But never tear his cheek descended, And never smile his brow unbended; And o'er that fair broad brow were wrought The intersected lines of thought; 540 Those furrows which the burning share Of Sorrow ploughs untimely there; Scars of the lacerating mind Which the Soul's war doth leave behind.[430] He was past all mirth or woe: Nothing more remained below But sleepless nights and heavy days, A mind all dead to scorn or praise, A heart which shunned itself--and yet That would not yield, nor could forget, 550 Which, when it least appeared to melt, Intensely thought--intensely felt: The deepest ice which ever froze Can only o'er the surface close; The living stream lies quick below, And flows, and cannot cease to flow.[431] Still was his sealed-up bosom haunted[rf] By thoughts which Nature hath implanted; Too deeply rooted thence to vanish, Howe'er our stifled tears we banish; 560 When struggling as they rise to start, We check those waters of the heart, They are not dried--those tears unshed But flow back to the fountain head, And resting in their spring more pure, For ever in its depth endure, Unseen--unwept--but uncongealed, And cherished most where least revealed. With inward starts of feeling left, To throb o'er those of life bereft, 570 Without the power to fill again The desert gap which made his pain; Without the hope to meet them where United souls shall gladness share; With all the consciousness that he Had only passed a just decree;[rg] That they had wrought their doom of ill; Yet Azo's age was wretched still. The tainted branches of the tree, If lopped with care, a strength may give, 580 By which the rest shall bloom and live All greenly fresh and wildly free: But if the lightning, in its wrath, The waving boughs with fury scathe, The massy trunk the ruin feels, And never more a leaf reveals.

FOOTNOTES:

[411] {503} ["Ferrara is much decayed and depopulated; but the castle still exists entire; and I saw the court where Parisina and Hugo were beheaded, according to the annal of Gibbon."--_Vide_ Advertisement to _Lament of Tasso_.]

[412] {505} "This turned out a calamitous year for the people of Ferrara, for there occurred a very tragical event in the court of their sovereign. Our annals, both printed and in manuscript, with the exception of the unpolished and negligent work of Sardi, and one other, have given the following relation of it,--from which, however, are rejected many details, and especially the narrative of Bandelli, who wrote a century afterwards, and who does not accord with the contemporary historians.

"By the above-mentioned Stella dell' Assassino, the Marquis, in the year 1405, had a son called Ugo, a beautiful and ingenuous youth. Parisina Malatesta, second wife of Niccolo, like the generality of step-mothers, treated him with little kindness, to the infinite regret of the Marquis, who regarded him with fond partiality. One day she asked leave of her husband to undertake a certain journey, to which he consented, but upon condition that Ugo should bear her company; for he hoped by these means to induce her, in the end, to lay aside the obstinate aversion which she had conceived against him. And indeed his intent was accomplished but too well, since, during the journey, she not only divested herself of all her hatred, but fell into the opposite extreme. After their return, the Marquis had no longer any occasion to renew his former reproofs. It happened one day that a servant of the Marquis, named Zoese, or, as some call him, Giorgio, passing before the apartments of Parisina, saw going out from them one of her chamber-maids, all terrified and in tears. Asking the reason, she told him that her mistress, for some slight offence, had been beating her; and, giving vent to her rage, she added, that she could easily be revenged, if she chose to make known the criminal familiarity which subsisted between Parisina and her step-son. The servant took note of the words, and related them to his master. He was astounded thereat, but, scarcely believing his ears, he assured himself of the fact, alas! too clearly, on the 18th of May, by looking through a hole made in the ceiling of his wife's chamber. Instantly he broke into a furious rage, and arrested both of them, together with Aldobrandino Rangoni, of Modena, her gentleman, and also, as some say, two of the women of her chamber, as abettors of this sinful act. He ordered them to be brought to a hasty trial, desiring the judges to pronounce sentence, in the accustomed forms, upon the culprits. This sentence was death. Some there were that bestirred themselves in favour of the delinquents, and, amongst others, Ugoccion Contrario, who was all-powerful with Niccolo, and also his aged and much deserving minister Alberto dal Sale. Both of these, their tears flowing down their cheeks, and upon their knees, implored him for mercy; adducing whatever reasons they could suggest for sparing the offenders, besides those motives of honour and decency which might persuade him to conceal from the public so scandalous a deed. But his rage made him inflexible, and, on the instant, he commanded that the sentence should be put in execution.

"It was, then, in the prisons of the castle, and exactly in those frightful dungeons which are seen at this day beneath the chamber called the Aurora, at the foot of the Lion's tower, at the top of the street Giovecca, that on the night of the 21st of May were beheaded, first, Ugo, and afterwards Parisina. Zoese, he that accused her, conducted the latter under his arm to the place of punishment. She, all along, fancied that she was to be thrown into a pit, and asked at every step, whether she was yet come to the spot? She was told that her punishment was the axe. She enquired what was become of Ugo, and received for answer, that he was already dead; at which, sighing grievously, she exclaimed, 'Now, then, I wish not myself to live;' and, being come to the block, she stripped herself, with her own hands, of all her ornaments, and, wrapping a cloth round her head, submitted to the fatal stroke, which terminated the cruel scene. The same was done with Rangoni, who, together with the others, according to two calendars in the library of St. Francesco, was buried in the cemetery of that convent. Nothing else is known respecting the women.

"The Marquis kept watch the whole of that dreadful night, and, as he was walking backwards and forwards, enquired of the captain of the castle if Ugo was dead yet? who answered him, Yes. He then gave himself up to the most desperate lamentations, exclaiming, 'Oh! that I too were dead, since I have been hurried on to resolve thus against my own Ugo!' And then gnawing with his teeth a cane which he had in his hand, he passed the rest of the night in sighs and in tears, calling frequently upon his own dear Ugo. On the following day, calling to mind that it would be necessary to make public his justification, seeing that the transaction could not be kept secret, he ordered the narrative to be drawn out upon paper, and sent it to all the courts of Italy.

"On receiving this advice, the Doge of Venice, Francesco Foscari, gave orders, but without publishing his reasons, that stop should be put to the preparations for a tournament, which, under the auspices of the Marquis, and at the expense of the city of Padua, was about to take place, in the square of St. Mark, in order to celebrate his advancement to the ducal chair.

"The Marquis, in addition to what he had already done, from some unaccountable burst of vengeance, commanded that as many of the married women as were well known to him to be faithless, like his Parisina, should, like her, be beheaded. Amongst others, Barberina, or, as some call her, Laodamia Romei, wife of the court judge, underwent this sentence, at the usual place of execution; that is to say, in the quarter of St. Giacomo, opposite the present fortress, beyond St. Paul's. It cannot be told how strange appeared this proceeding in a prince, who, considering his own disposition, should, as it seemed, have been in such cases most indulgent. Some, however, there were who did not fail to commend him." [_Memorie per la Storia di Ferrara_, Raccolte da Antonio Frizzi, 1793, iii. 408-410. See, too, _Celebri Famiglie Italiane_, by Conte Pompeo Litta, 1832, Fasc. xxvi. Part III. vol. ii.]

[413] {507} [The revise of _Parisina_ is endorsed in Murray's handwriting, "Given to me by Lord Byron at his house, Saturday, January 13, 1816."]

[414] The lines contained in this section were printed as set to music some time since, but belonged to the poem where they now appear; the greater part of which was composed prior to _Lara_, and other compositions since published. [Note to _Siege, etc._, First Edition, 1816.]

[qy] _Francisca walks in the shadow of night_, _But it is not to gaze on the heavenly light_-- _But if she sits in her garden bower_, _'Tis not for the sake of its blowing flower_.-- [_Nathan_, 1815, 1829.]

[qz] {508} _There winds a step_----.--[_Nathan_, 1815, 1829.]

[415] {509} [Leigh Hunt, in his _Autobiography_ (1860, p. 252), says, "I had the pleasure of supplying my friendly critic, Lord Byron, with a point for his _Parisina_ (the incident of the heroine talking in her sleep)."

Putting Lady Macbeth out of the question, the situation may be traced to a passage in Henry Mackenzie's _Julia de Roubigné_ (1777, ii. 101: "Montauban to Segarva," Letter xxxv.):--

"I was last night abroad at supper; Julia was a-bed before my return. I found her lute lying on the table, and a music-book open by it. I could perceive the marks of tears shed on the paper, and the air was such as might encourage their falling. Sleep, however, had overcome her sadness, and she did not awake when I opened the curtain to look on her. When I had stood some moments, I heard her sigh strongly through her sleep, and presently she muttered some words, I know not of what import. I had sometimes heard her do so before, without regarding it much; but there was something that roused my attention now. I listened; she sighed again, and again spoke a few broken words. At last I heard her plainly pronounce the name Savillon two or three times, and each time it was accompanied with sighs so deep that her heart seemed bursting as it heaved then."]

[ra] {511} ----_Medora's_----.--[Copy erased.]

[416] [Compare _Christabel_, Part II. lines 408, 409--

"Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth."]

[417] {513} [Compare the famous eulogy of Marie Antoinette, in Burke's _Reflections on the Revolution in France, in a Letter intended to have been sent to a Gentleman in Paris_, London, 1790, pp. 112, 113--

"It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles.... Little did I dream ... that I should have lived to see such disasters fall upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honour and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult."]

[rb] {514} _As tear by tear rose gathering still_.--[Revise.]

[418] [Lines 175-182, which are in Byron's handwriting, were added to the Copy.]

[419] {516} [The meaning is plain, but the construction is involved. The contrast is between the blood of foes, which Hugo has shed for Azo, and Hugo's own blood, which Azo is about to shed on the scaffold. But this is one of Byron's incurious infelicities.]

[420] {517} Haught--haughty. "Away, _haught_ man, thou art insulting me."--Shakespeare [_Richard II._, act iv. sc. i, line 254--"No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man."]

[421] {518} [Lines 304, 305, and lines 310-317 are not in the Copy. They were inserted by Byron in the Revise.]

[422] [A writer in the _Critical Review_ (February, 1816, vol. iii. p. 151) holds this couplet up to derision. "Too" is a weak ending, and, orally at least, ambiguous.]

[423] ["I sent for _Marmion_, ... because it occurred to me there might be a resemblance between part of _Parisina_ and a similar scene in Canto 2d. of _Marmion_. I fear there is, though I never thought of it before, and could hardly wish to imitate that which is inimitable.... I had completed the story on the passage from Gibbon, which, in fact, leads to a like scene naturally, without a thought of the kind; but it comes upon me not very comfortably."--Letter to Murray, February 3, 1816 (_Letters_, 1899, iii. 260). The scene in _Marmion_ is the one where Constance de Beverley appears before the conclave--

"Her look composed, and steady eye, Bespoke a matchless constancy; And there she stood so calm and pale, That, but her breathing did not fail, And motion slight of eye and head, And of her bosom, warranted That neither sense nor pulse she lacks, You must have thought a form of wax, Wrought to the very life, was there-- So still she was, so pale, so fair."

## Canto II. stanza xxi. lines 5-14.]

[424] {519} ["I admire the fabrication of the 'big Tear,' which is very fine--much larger, by the way, than Shakespeare's."--Letter of John Murray to Lord Byron (_Memoir of John Murray_, 1891, i. 354).]

[425] [Compare _Christabel_, Part I. line 253--"A sight to dream of, not to tell!"]

[rc] {521} _For a departing beings soul_.--[Copy.]

[426] [For the peculiar use of "knoll" as a verb, compare _Childe Harold_, Canto III. stanza xcvi. line 5; and _Werner_, act iii. sc. 3.]

[427] {522} [Lines 401-404, which are in Byron's handwriting, were added to the Copy.]

[rd] {523} _His latest beads and sins are counted_.--[Copy.]

[428] {524} [For the use of "electric" as a metaphor, compare Coleridge's _Songs of the Pixies_, v. lines 59, 60--

"The electric flash, that from the melting eye Darts the fond question and the soft reply."]

[re] _But no more thrilling voice rose there_.--[Copy.]

[429] {526} [Here, again, Byron is _super grammaticam_. The comparison is between Hugo and "goodly sons," not between Hugo and "bride" in the preceding line.]

[430] [Lines 539-544 are not in the Copy, but were inserted in the Revise.]

[431] {527} [Lines 551-556 are not in the Copy, but were inserted in the Revise.]

[rf] _Ah, still unwelcomely was haunted_.--[Copy.]

[rg] _Had only sealed a just decree_.--[Copy.]

POEMS OF THE SEPARATION.

INTRODUCTION TO _POEMS OF THE SEPARATION._

The two poems, _Fare Thee Well_ (March 17) and _A Sketch_ (March 29, 1816), which have hitherto been entitled _Domestic Pieces_, or _Poems on His Own Circumstances_, I have ventured to rename _Poems of the Separation_. Of secondary importance as poems or works of art, they stand out by themselves as marking and helping to make the critical epoch in the life and reputation of the poet. It is to be observed that there was an interval of twelve days between the date of _Fare Thee Well_ and _A Sketch_; that the composition of the latter belongs to a later episode in the separation drama; and that for some reasons connected with the proceedings between the parties, a pathetic if not uncritical resignation had given place to the extremity of exasperation--to hatred and fury and revenge. It follows that either poem, in respect of composition and of publication, must be judged on its own merits. Contemporary critics, while they were all but unanimous in holding up _A Sketch_ to unqualified reprobation, were divided with regard to the good taste and good faith of _Fare Thee Well_. Moore intimates that at first, and, indeed, for some years after the separation, he was strongly inclined to condemn the _Fare Thee Well_ as a histrionic performance--"a showy effusion of sentiment;" but that on reading the account of all the circumstances in Byron's _Memoranda_, he was impressed by the reality of the "swell of tender recollections, under the influence of which, as he sat one night musing in his study, these stanzas were produced--the tears, as he said, falling fast over the paper as he wrote them" (_Life_, p. 302).

With whatever purpose, or under whatever emotion the lines were written, Byron did not keep them to himself. They were shown to Murray, and copies were sent to "the initiated." "I have just received," writes Murray, "the enclosed letter from Mrs. Maria Graham [1785-1842, _née_ Dundas, authoress and traveller, afterwards Lady Callcott], to whom I had sent the verses. It will show you that you are thought of in the remotest corners, and furnishes me with an excuse for repeating that I shall not forget you. God bless your Lordship. Fare _Thee_ Well" [MSS. M.].

But it does not appear that they were printed in their final shape (the proof of a first draft, consisting of thirteen stanzas, is dated March 18, 1816) till the second copy of verses were set up in type with a view to private distribution (see _Letters_, 1899, iii. 279). Even then there was no thought of publication on the part of Byron or of Murray, and, as a matter of fact, though _Fare Thee Well_ was included in the "Poems" of 1816, it was not till both poems had appeared in over twenty pirated editions that _A Sketch_ was allowed to appear in vol. iii. of the Collected Works of 1819. Unquestionably Byron intended that the "initiated," whether foes or sympathizers, should know that he had not taken his dismissal in silence; but it is far from certain that he connived at the appearance of either copy of verses in the public press. It is impossible to acquit him of the charge of appealing to a limited circle of specially chosen witnesses and advocates in a matter which lay between himself and his wife, but the aggravated offence of rushing into print may well be attributed to "the injudicious zeal of a friend," or the "malice prepense" of an enemy. If he had hoped that the verses would slip into a newspaper, as it were, _malgré lui_, he would surely have taken care that the seed fell on good ground under the favouring influence of Perry of the _Morning Chronicle_, or Leigh Hunt of the _Examiner_. As it turned out, the first paper which possessed or ventured to publish a copy of the "domestic pieces" was the _Champion_, a Tory paper, then under the editorship of John Scott (1783-1821), a man of talent and of probity, but, as Mr. Lang puts it (_Life and Letters_ of John Gibson Lockhart, 1897, i. 256), "Scotch, and a professed moralist." The date of publication was Sunday, April 14, and it is to be noted that the _Ode from the French_ ("We do not curse thee, Waterloo") had been published in the _Morning Chronicle_ on March 15, and that on the preceding Sunday, April 7, the brilliant but unpatriotic apostrophe to the _Star of the Legion of Honour_ had appeared in the _Examiner_. "We notice it [this strain of his Lordship's harp]," writes the editor, "because we think it would not be doing justice to the merits of such political tenets, if they were not coupled with their corresponding practice in regard to moral and domestic obligations. There is generally a due proportion kept in 'the music of men's lives.' ... Of many of the _facts_ of this distressing case we are not ignorant; but God knows they are not for a newspaper. Fortunately they fall within very general knowledge, in London at least; if they had not they would never have found their way to us. But there is a respect due to certain wrongs and sufferings that would be outraged by uncovering them." It was all very mysterious, very terrible; but what wonder that the laureate of the ex-emperor, the contemner of the Bourbons, the pæanist of the "star of the brave," "the rainbow of the free," should make good his political heresy by personal depravity--by unmanly vice, unmanly whining, unmanly vituperation?

Wordsworth, to whom Scott forwarded the _Champion_ of April 14, "outdid" the journalist in virtuous fury: "Let me say only one word of Lord B. The man is insane. The verses on his private affairs excite in me less indignation than pity. The latter copy is the Billingsgate of Bedlam. ... You yourself seem to labour under some delusion as to the merits of Lord B.'s poetry, and treat the wretched verses, the _Fare Well_, with far too much respect. They are disgusting in sentiment, and in execution contemptible. 'Though my many faults deface me,' etc. Can worse doggerel than such a stanza be written? One verse is commendable: 'All my madness none can know.'" The criticism, as criticism, confutes itself, and is worth quoting solely because it displays the feeling of a sane and honourable man towards a member of the "opposition," who had tripped and fallen, and now lay within reach of his lash (see _Life of William Wordsworth_, 1889, ii. 267, etc.).

It was not only, as Macaulay put it, that Byron was "singled out as an expiatory sacrifice" by the British public in a periodical fit of morality, but, as the extent and the limitations of the attack reveal, occasion was taken by political adversaries to inflict punishment for an outrage on popular sentiment.

The _Champion_ had been the first to give tongue, and the other journals, on the plea that the mischief was out, one after the other took up the cry. On Monday, April 15, the _Sun_ printed _Fare Thee Well_, and on Tuesday, April 16, followed with _A Sketch_. On the same day the _Morning Chronicle_, protesting that "the poems were not written for the public eye, but as having been inserted in a Sunday paper," printed both sets of verses; the _Morning Post_, with an ugly hint that "the noble Lord gives us verses, when he dare not give us circumstances," restricted itself to _Fare Thee Well_; while the _Times_, in a leading paragraph, feigned to regard "the two extraordinary copies of verses ... the whining stanzas of _Fare Thee Well_, and the low malignity and miserable doggerel of the companion _Sketch_," as "an injurious fabrication." On Thursday, the 18th, the _Courier_, though declining to insert _A Sketch_, deals temperately and sympathetically with the _Fare Thee Well_, and quotes the testimony of a "fair correspondent" (? Madame de Staël), that if "her husband had bade her such a farewell she could not have avoided running into his arms, and being reconciled immediately--'Je n'aurois pu m'y tenir un instant';" and on the same day the _Times_, having learnt to its "extreme astonishment and regret," that both poems were indeed Lord Byron's, maintained that the noble author had "degraded literature, and abused the privileges of rank, by converting them into weapons of vengeance against an inferior and a female." On Friday, the 19th, the _Star_ printed both poems, and the _Morning Post_ inserted a criticism, which had already appeared in the _Courier_ of the preceding day. On Saturday, the 20th, the _Courier_ found itself compelled, in the interests of its readers, to print both poems. On Sunday, the 21st, the octave of the original issue, the _Examiner_ devoted a long article to an apology for Byron, and a fierce rejoinder to the _Champion_; and on the same day the _Independent Whig_ and the _Sunday News_, which favoured the "opposition," printed both poems, with prefatory notices more or less favourable to the writer; whereas the Tory _Antigallican Monitor_, which also printed both poems, added the significant remark that "if everything said of Lord Byron be true, it would appear that the Whigs were not altogether so immaculate as they themselves would wish the world to suppose."

The testimony of the press is instructive from two points of view. In the first place, it tends to show that the controversy was conducted on party lines; and, secondly, that the editor of the _Champion_ was in some degree responsible for the wide diffusion and lasting publicity of the scandal. The separation of Lord and Lady Byron must, in any case, have been more than a nine days' wonder, but if the circulation of the "pamphlet" had been strictly confined to the "initiated," the excitement and interest of the general public would have smouldered and died out for lack of material.

In his second letter on Bowles, dated March 25, 1821 (_Observations upon Observations_, _Life_, 1892, p. 705), Byron alludes to the publication of these poems in the _Champion_, and comments on the behaviour of the editor, who had recently (February 16, 1821) been killed in a duel. He does not minimize the wrong, but he pays a fine and generous tribute to the courage and worth of his assailant. "Poor Scott is now no more ...he died like a brave man, and he lived an able one," etc. It may be added that Byron was an anonymous subscriber to a fund raised by Sir James Mackintosh, Murray, and others, for "the helpless family of a man of virtue and ability" (_London Magazine_, April, 1821, vol. iii. p. 359).

For chronological reasons, and in accordance with the precedent of the edition of 1832, a third poem, _Stanzas to Augusta_, has been included in this group.

POEMS OF THE SEPARATION

FARE THEE WELL.[432]

"Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth: And Constancy lives in realms above; And Life is thorny; and youth is vain: And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain;

* * * * *

But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining-- They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between, But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been." Coleridge's Christabel.[rh]

Fare thee well! and if for ever, Still for ever, fare _thee well:_ Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee[ri] Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee[rj] Which thou ne'er canst know again: Would that breast, by thee glanced over, Every inmost thought could show! Then thou would'st at last discover 'Twas not well to spurn it so. Though the world for this commend thee--[433] Though it smile upon the blow, Even its praises must offend thee, Founded on another's woe: Though my many faults defaced me, Could no other arm be found, Than the one which once embraced me, To inflict a cureless wound? Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not-- Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not Hearts can thus be torn away: Still thine own its life retaineth-- Still must mine, though bleeding, beat;[rk] And the undying thought which paineth[rl] Is--that we no more may meet. These are words of deeper sorrow[rm] Than the wail above the dead; Both shall live--but every morrow[rn] Wake us from a widowed bed. And when thou would'st solace gather-- When our child's first accents flow-- Wilt thou teach her to say "Father!" Though his care she must forego? When her little hands shall press thee-- When her lip to thine is pressed-- Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee-- Think of him thy love _had_ blessed! Should her lineaments resemble Those thou never more may'st see, Then thy heart will softly tremble[ro] With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest-- All my madness--none can know;[rp] All my hopes--where'er thou goest-- Wither--yet with _thee_ they go. Every feeling hath been shaken; Pride--which not a world could bow--[rq] Bows to thee--by thee forsaken,[rr] Even my soul forsakes me now. But 'tis done--all words are idle-- Words from me are vainer still;[rs] But the thoughts we cannot bridle Force their way without the will. Fare thee well! thus disunited--[rt] Torn from every nearer tie-- Seared in heart--and lone--and blighted-- More than this I scarce can die.

[First draft, _March_ 18, 1816. First printed as published, April 4, 1816.]

A SKETCH.[ru][434]

"Honest--honest Iago! If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee." Shakespeare.

Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred, Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head;[rv] Next--for some gracious service unexpressed, And from its wages only to be guessed-- Raised from the toilet to the table,--where Her wondering betters wait behind her chair. With eye unmoved, and forehead unabashed, She dines from off the plate she lately washed. Quick with the tale, and ready with the lie, The genial confidante, and general spy-- 10 Who could, ye gods! her next employment guess-- An only infant's earliest governess![rw] She taught the child to read, and taught so well, That she herself, by teaching, learned to spell. An adept next in penmanship she grows, As many a nameless slander deftly shows: What she had made the pupil of her art, None know--but that high Soul secured the heart,[rx] And panted for the truth it could not hear, With longing breast and undeluded ear. 20 Foiled was perversion by that youthful mind,[ry] Which Flattery fooled not, Baseness could not blind, Deceit infect not, near Contagion soil, Indulgence weaken, nor Example spoil,[rz] Nor mastered Science tempt her to look down On humbler talents with a pitying frown, Nor Genius swell, nor Beauty render vain, Nor Envy ruffle to retaliate pain,[sa] Nor Fortune change, Pride raise, nor Passion bow, Nor Virtue teach austerity--till now. 30 Serenely purest of her sex that live,[sb] But wanting one sweet weakness--to forgive; Too shocked at faults her soul can never know, She deems that all could be like her below: Foe to all vice, yet hardly Virtue's friend, For Virtue pardons those she would amend.

But to the theme, now laid aside too long, The baleful burthen of this honest song,[sc] Though all her former functions are no more, She rules the circle which she served before. 40 If mothers--none know why--before her quake; If daughters dread her for the mothers' sake; If early habits--those false links, which bind At times the loftiest to the meanest mind--[sd] Have given her power too deeply to instil The angry essence of her deadly will;[se] If like a snake she steal within your walls, Till the black slime betray her as she crawls; If like a viper to the heart she wind, And leave the venom there she did not find; 50 What marvel that this hag of hatred works[sf] Eternal evil latent as she lurks, To make a Pandemonium where she dwells, And reign the Hecate of domestic hells? Skilled by a touch to deepen Scandal's tints With all the kind mendacity of hints, While mingling truth with falsehood--sneers with smiles-- A thread of candour with a web of wiles;[sg] A plain blunt show of briefly-spoken seeming, To hide her bloodless heart's soul-hardened scheming; 60 A lip of lies; a face formed to conceal, And, without feeling, mock at all who feel: With a vile mask the Gorgon would disown,-- A cheek of parchment, and an eye of stone.[sh] Mark, how the channels of her yellow blood Ooze to her skin, and stagnate there to mud, Cased like the centipede in saffron mail, Or darker greenness of the scorpion's scale--[si] (For drawn from reptiles only may we trace Congenial colours in that soul or face)-- 70 Look on her features! and behold her mind[sj] As in a mirror of itself defined: Look on the picture! deem it not o'ercharged-- There is no trait which might not be enlarged: Yet true to "Nature's journeymen,"[435] who made This monster when their mistress left off trade-- This female dog-star of her little sky, Where all beneath her influence droop or die.[sk]

Oh! wretch without a tear--without a thought, Save joy above the ruin thou hast wrought-- 80 The time shall come, nor long remote, when thou Shalt feel far more than thou inflictest now; Feel for thy vile self-loving self in vain, And turn thee howling in unpitied pain. May the strong curse of crushed affections light[436] Back on thy bosom with reflected blight! And make thee in thy leprosy of mind As loathsome to thyself as to mankind! Till all thy self-thoughts curdle into hate, Black--as thy will or others would create: 90 Till thy hard heart be calcined into dust, And thy soul welter in its hideous crust. Oh, may thy grave be sleepless as the bed, The widowed couch of fire, that thou hast spread! Then, when thou fain wouldst weary Heaven with prayer, Look on thine earthly victims--and despair! Down to the dust!--and, as thou rott'st away, Even worms shall perish on thy poisonous clay.[sl] But for the love I bore, and still must bear, To her thy malice from all ties would tear-- 100 Thy name--thy human name--to every eye The climax of all scorn should hang on high, Exalted o'er thy less abhorred compeers-- And festering[437] in the infamy of years.[sm]

[First draft, _March_ 29, 1816. First printed as published, April 4, 1816.]

STANZAS TO AUGUSTA.[438]

When all around grew drear and dark,[sn] And reason half withheld her ray-- And Hope but shed a dying spark Which more misled my lonely way; In that deep midnight of the mind, And that internal strife of heart, When dreading to be deemed too kind, The weak despair--the cold depart; When Fortune changed--and Love fled far,[so] And Hatred's shafts flew thick and fast, Thou wert the solitary star[sp] Which rose and set not to the last.[sq] Oh! blest be thine unbroken light! That watched me as a Seraph's eye, And stood between me and the night, For ever shining sweetly nigh. And when the cloud upon us came,[sr] Which strove to blacken o'er thy ray--[ss] Then purer spread its gentle flame,[st] And dashed the darkness all away. Still may thy Spirit dwell on mine,[su] And teach it what to brave or brook-- There's more in one soft word of thine Than in the world's defied rebuke. Thou stood'st, as stands a lovely tree,[sv] That still unbroke, though gently bent, Still waves with fond fidelity Its boughs above a monument. The winds might rend--the skies might pour, But there thou wert--and still wouldst be Devoted in the stormiest hour To shed thy weeping leaves o'er me. But thou and thine shall know no blight, Whatever fate on me may fall; For Heaven in sunshine will requite The kind--and thee the most of all. Then let the ties of baffled love Be broken--thine will never break; Thy heart can feel--but will not move; Thy soul, though soft, will never shake. And these, when all was lost beside, Were found and still are fixed in thee:-- And bearing still a breast so tried, Earth is no desert--ev'n to me.

[First published, _Poems_, 1816.]

FOOTNOTES:

[432] {537} ["He there (Byron, in his _Memoranda_) described, and in a manner whose sincerity there was no doubting, the swell of tender recollections, under the influence of which, as he sat one night musing in the study, these stanzas were produced,--the tears, as he said, falling fast over the paper as he wrote them."--_Life_, p. 302.

It must have been a fair and _complete_ copy that Moore saw (see _Life_, p. 302, note 3). There are no tear-marks on this (the first draft, sold at Sotheby's, April 11, 1885) draft, which must be the _first_, for it is incomplete, and every line (almost) tortured with alterations.

"Fare Thee Well!" was printed in Leigh Hunt's _Examiner_, April 21, 1816, at the end of an article (by L. H.) entitled "Distressing Circumstances in High Life." The text there has two readings different from that of the pamphlet, viz.--

_Examiner:_ "Than the soft one which embraced me." Pamphlet: "Than the one which once embraced me." _Examiner:_ "Yet the thoughts we cannot bridle." Pamphlet: "But," etc.

--_MS. Notes taken by the late J. Dykes Campbell at Sotheby's, April 18, 1890, and re-transcribed for Mr. Murray, June 15, 1894._

A final proof, dated April 7, 1816, was endorsed by Murray, "Correct 50 copies as early as you can to-morrow."]

[rh] The motto was prefixed in _Poems_, 1816.

[ri] {538} _Thou my breast laid bare before thee_.--[MS. erased.]

[rj] _Not a thought is pondering on thee_.--[MS, erased.]

[433] [Lines 13-20 do not appear in an early copy dated March 18, 1816. They were added on the margin of a proof dated April 4, 1816.]

[rk] {539} Net result of many alterations.

[rl] _And the lasting thought_----.--[MS. erased.]

[rm] ----_of deadlier sorrow_.--[MS. erased.]

[rn] _Every future night and morrow_.--[MS. erased.]

[ro] _Still thy heart_----.--[MS. erased.]

[rp] _All my follies_----.--[MS. erased.]

[rq] ----_which not the world could bow_.--[MS.]

[rr] _Falls at once_----.--[MS. erased.]

[rs] {540} _Tears and sighs are idler still_.--[MS. erased.]

[rt] _Fare thee well--thus lone and blighted_.--[MS. erased.]

[ru] _A Sketch from Life._--[MS. M.]

[434] ["I send you my last night's dream, and request to have 50 copies (for private distribution) struck off. I wish Mr. Gifford to look at them; they are from life."--Letter to Murray, March 30, 1816.

"The original MS. of Lord Byron's Satire, 'A Sketch from Private Life,' written by his Lordship, 30th March, 1816. Given by his Lordship to me on going abroad after his separation from Lady Byron, John Hanson. To be carefully preserved." (This MS. omits lines 19-20, 35-36, 55-56, 65-70, 77-78, 85-92.)

A copy entitled, "A sketch from private Life," dated March 30, 1816, is in Mrs. Leigh's handwriting. The corrections and additions are in Byron's handwriting.

A proof dated April 2, 1816, is endorsed by Murray, "Correct with most

## particular care and print off 50 copies, and keep standing."]

[rv] _Promoted thence to comb_----[MS. M. erased.]

[rw] ----_early governess_.--[MS. M.]

[rx] ----_but that pure spirit saved her heart_.--[MS. M. erased.]

[ry] _Vain was each effort_----.--[MS. M.]

[rz] _Much Learning madden--when with scarce a peer_ _She soared through science with a bright career_-- _Nor talents swell_----.--[MS. M.]

[sa] ----_bigotry prevoke_.--[MS. M. erased.]

[sb] _Serenely purest of the things that live_.--[MS. M.]

[sc] {542} _The trusty burthen of my honest song_.--[MS. M.]

[sd] _At times the highest_----.--[MS. M.]

[se] ----_of her evil will_.--[MS. M.]

[sf] _What marvel that this mistress demon works_ / _wheresoe'er she lurks_.--[MS. M.] _Eternal evil_ { \ _when she latent works_.--[Copy.]

[sg] _A gloss of candour of a web of wiles_.--[MS. M.]

[sh] {543} Lines 65-68 were added April 2, 1816.

[si] The parenthesis was added April 2, 1816.

[sj] _Look on her body_----.--[MS. M.]

[435] [See _Hamlet_, act iii. sc. 2, line 31.]

[sk] _Where all that gaze upon her droop or die_.--[MS. altered April 2, 1816.]

[436] Lines 85-91 were added April 2, 1816, on a page endorsed, "Quick--quick--quick--quick."

[sl] {544} ----_in thy poisoned clay_.--[MS. M. erased.]

[437] ["I doubt about 'weltering' but the dictionary should decide--look at it. We say 'weltering in blood'--but do they not also use 'weltering in the wind' 'weltering on a gibbet'?--there is no dictionary, so look or ask. In the meantime, I have put 'festering,' which perhaps in any case is the best word of the two.--P.S. Be quick. Shakespeare has it often and I do not think it too strong for the figure in this thing."--Letter to Murray, April 2.]

[sm] _And weltering in the infamy of years_.--[MS. M.]

[438] [His sister, the Honourable Mrs. Leigh.--These stanzas--the

## parting tribute to her whose tenderness had been his sole consolation in

the crisis of domestic misery--were, we believe, the last verses written by Lord Byron in England. In a note to Mr. Rogers, dated April 16 [1816], he says, "My sister is now with me, and leaves town to-morrow; we shall not meet again for some time at all events--_if ever!_ and under these circumstances I trust to stand excused to you and Mr. Sheridan, for being unable to wait upon him this evening."--Note to Edition of 1832, x. 193.

A fair copy, broken up into stanzas, is endorsed by Murray, "Given to me (and I believe composed by Ld. B.), Friday, April 12, 1816."]

[sn] ----_grew waste and dark_.--[MS. M.]

[so] {545} _When Friendship shook_----.--[MS. M.]

[sp] _Thine was the solitary star_.--[MS. M.]

[sq] _Which rose above me to the last_.--[MS. M.]

[sr] _And when the cloud between us came_.--[MS. M.] _And when the cloud upon me came_.--[Copy C. H.]

[ss] _Which would have closed on that last ray_.--[MS. M.]

[st] _Then stiller stood the gentle Flame_.--[MS. M.]

[su] _Still may thy Spirit sit on mine_.--[MS. M.]

[sv] {546} _And thou wast as a lovely Tree_ _Whose branch unbroke but gently bent_ _Still waved with fond Fidelity_.--[Copy C. H.]

END OF VOL. III.

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.