Part 22
"P.S. You say that _one half_ is very good: you are _wrong_; for, if it were, it would be the finest poem in existence. _Where_ is the poetry of which _one half_ is good? is it the _Æneid_? is it _Milton's_? is it _Dryden's_? is it any one's except _Pope's_ and _Goldsmith's_, of which _all_ is good? and yet these two last are the poets your pond poets would explode. But if _one half_ of the two new Cantos be good in your opinion, what the devil would you have more? No--no; no poetry is _generally_ good--only by fits and starts--and you are lucky to get a sparkle here and there. You might as well want a midnight _all stars_ as rhyme all perfect.
"We are on the verge of a _row_ here. Last night they have overwritten all the city walls with 'Up with the republic!' and 'Death to the Pope!' &c. &c. This would be nothing in London, where the walls are privileged. But here it is a different thing: they are not used to such fierce political inscriptions, and the police is all on the alert, and the Cardinal glares pale through all his purple.
"April 24. 1820. 8 o'clock, P.M.
"The police have been, all noon and after, searching for the inscribers, but have caught none as yet. They must have been all night about it, for the 'Live republics--Death to Popes and Priests,' are innumerable, and plastered over all the palaces: ours has plenty. There is 'Down with the Nobility,' too; they are down enough already, for that matter. A very heavy rain and wind having come on, I did not go out and 'skirr the country;' but I shall mount to-morrow, and take a canter among the peasantry, who are a savage, resolute race, always riding with guns in their hands. I wonder they don't suspect the serenaders, for they play on the guitar here all night, as in Spain, to their mistresses.
"Talking of politics, as Caleb Quotem says, pray look at the _conclusion_ of my Ode on _Waterloo_, written in the year 1815, and, comparing it with the Duke de Berri's catastrophe in 1820, tell me if I have not as good a right to the character of '_Vates_' in both senses of the word, as Fitzgerald and Coleridge?
"'Crimson tears will follow yet--'
and have not they?
"I can't pretend to foresee what will happen among you Englishers at this distance, but I vaticinate a row in Italy; in whilk case, I don't know that I won't have a finger in it. I dislike the Austrians, and think the Italians infamously oppressed; and if they begin, why, I will recommend 'the erection of a sconce upon Drumsnab,' like Dugald Dalgetty."
[Footnote 72: Of Don Juan.]
* * * * *
LETTER 371. TO MR. MURRAY.
"Ravenna, May 8. 1820.
"From your not having written again, an intention which your letter of the 7th ultimo indicated, I have to presume that the 'Prophecy of Dante' has not been found more worthy than its predecessors in the eyes of your illustrious synod. In that case, you will be in some perplexity; to end which, I repeat to you, that you are not to consider yourself as bound or pledged to publish any thing because it is _mine_, but always to act according to your own views, or opinions, or those of your friends; and to be sure that you will in no degree offend me by 'declining the article,' to use a technical phrase. The _prose_ observations on John Wilson's attack, I do not intend for publication at this time; and I send a copy of verses to Mr. Kinnaird (they were written last year on crossing the Po) which must _not_ be published either. I mention this, because it is probable he may give you a copy. Pray recollect this, as they are mere verses of society, and written upon private feelings and passions. And, moreover, I can't consent to any mutilations or omissions of _Pulci_: the original has been ever free from such in Italy, the capital of Christianity, and the translation may be so in England; though you will think it strange that they should have allowed such _freedom_ for many centuries to the Morgante, while the other day they confiscated the whole translation of the fourth Canto of Childe Harold, and have persecuted Leoni, the translator--so he writes me, and so I could have told him, had he consulted me before his publication. This shows how much more politics interest men in these parts than religion. Half a dozen invectives against tyranny confiscate Childe Harold in a month; and eight and twenty cantos of quizzing monks and knights, and church government, are let loose for centuries. I copy Leoni's account.
"'Non ignorerà forse che la mia versione del 4° Canto del Childe Harold fu confiscata in ogni parte: ed io stesso ho dovuto soffrir vessazioni altrettanto ridicole quanto illiberaii, ad arte che alcuni versi fossero esclusi dalla censura. Ma siccome il divieto non fa d'ordinario che accrescere la curiosita cos! quel carme sull' Italia è ricercato più che mai, e penso di farlo ristampare in Inghil-terra senza nulla escludere. Sciagurata condizione di questa mia patria! se patria si può chiamare una terra così avvilita dalla fortuna, dagli uomini, da se medesima.'
"Rose will translate this to you. Has he had his letter? I enclosed it to you months ago.
"This intended piece of publication I shall dissuade him from, or he may chance to see the inside of St. Angelo's. The last sentence of his letter is the common and pathetic sentiment of all his countrymen.
"Sir Humphry Davy was here last fortnight, and I was in his company in the house of a very pretty Italian lady of rank, who, by way of displaying her learning in presence of the great chemist, then describing his fourteenth ascension to Mount Vesuvius, asked 'if there was not a similar volcano in _Ireland_?' My only notion of an Irish volcano consisted of the lake of Killarney, which I naturally conceived her to mean; but, on second thoughts, I divined that she alluded to _Ice_land and to Hecla--and so it proved, though she sustained her volcanic topography for some time with all the amiable pertinacity of 'the feminie.' She soon after turned to me and asked me various questions about Sir Humphry's philosophy, and I explained as well as an oracle his skill in gasen safety lamps, and ungluing the Pompeian MSS. 'But what do you call him?' said she. 'A great chemist,' quoth I. 'What can he do?' repeated the lady. 'Almost any thing,' said I. 'Oh, then, mio caro, do pray beg him to give me something to dye my eyebrows black. I have tried a thousand things, and the colours all come off; and besides, they don't grow; can't he invent something to make them grow?' All this with the greatest earnestness; and what you will be surprised at, she is neither ignorant nor a fool, but really well educated and clever. But they speak like children, when first out of their convents; and, after all, this is better than an English blue-stocking.
"I did not tell Sir Humphry of this last piece of philosophy, not knowing how he might take it. Davy was much taken with Ravenna, and the PRIMITIVE _Italianism_ of the people, who are unused to foreigners: but he only stayed a day.
"Send me Scott's novels and some news.
"P.S. I have begun and advanced into the second act of a tragedy on the subject of the Doge's conspiracy (_i.e._ the story of Marino Faliero); but my present feeling is so little encouraging on such matters, that I begin to think I have mined my talent out, and proceed in no great phantasy of finding a new vein.
"P.S. I sometimes think (if the Italians don't rise) of coming over to England in the autumn after the coronation, (at which I would not appear, on account of my family schism,) but as yet I can decide nothing. The place must be a great deal changed since I left it, now more than four years ago."
* * * * *
LETTER 372. TO MR. MURRAY.
"Ravenna, May 20. 1820.
"Murray, my dear, make my respects to Thomas Campbell, and tell him from me, with faith and friendship, three things that he must right in his poets: Firstly, he says Anstey's Bath Guide characters are taken from Smollett. 'Tis impossible:--the Guide was published in 1766, and Humphrey Clinker in 1771--_dunque_, 'tis Smollett who has taken from Anstey. Secondly, he does not know to whom Cowper alludes, when he says that there was one who 'built a church to _God_, and then blasphemed his name:' it was 'Deo erexit _Voltaire_' to whom that maniacal Calvinist and coddled poet alludes. Thirdly, he misquotes and spoils a passage from Shakspeare, 'to gild refined gold, to paint the lily,' &c.; for _lily_ he puts rose, and bedevils in more words than one the whole quotation.
"Now, Tom is a fine fellow; but he should be correct; for the first is an _injustice_ (to Anstey), the second an _ignorance_, and the third a _blunder_. Tell him all this, and let him take it in good part; for I might have rammed it into a review and rowed him--instead of which, I act like a Christian.
"Yours," &c.
* * * * *
LETTER 373. TO MR. MURRAY.
"Ravenna, May 20. 1820.
"First and foremost, you must forward my letter to _Moore_ dated 2d _January_, which I said you might open, but desired you _to forward_. Now, you should really not forget these little things, because they do mischief among friends. You are an excellent man, a great man, and live among great men, but do pray recollect your absent friends and authors.
"In the first place, _your packets_; then a letter from Kinnaird, on the most urgent business; another from Moore, about a communication to Lady Byron of importance; a fourth from the mother of Allegra; and, fifthly, at Ravenna, the Countess G. is on the eve of being separated. But the Italian public are on her side,
## particularly the women,--and the men also, because they say that
_he_ had no business to take the business up now after a year of toleration. All her relations (who are numerous, high in rank, and powerful) are furious _against him_ for his conduct. I am warned to be on my guard, as he is very capable of employing _sicarii_--this is Latin as well as Italian, so you can understand it; but I have arms, and don't mind them, thinking that I could pepper his ragamuffins, if they don't come unawares, and that, if they do, one may as well end that way as another; and it would besides serve _you_ as an advertisement:--
"Man may escape from rope or gun, &c. But he who takes woman, woman, woman, &c.
"Yours.
"P.S. I have looked over the press, but heaven knows how. Think what I have on hand and the post going out to-morrow. Do you remember the epitaph on Voltaire?
"'Ci-git l'enfant gâté,' &c.
"'Here lies the spoilt child Of the world which he spoil'd.'
The original is in Grimm and Diderot, &c. &c. &c."
* * * * *
LETTER 374. TO MR. MOORE.
"Ravenna, May 24. 1820.
"I wrote to you a few days ago. There is also a letter of January last for you at Murray's, which will explain to you why I am here. Murray ought to have forwarded it long ago. I enclose you an epistle from a countrywoman of yours at Paris, which has moved my entrails. You will have the goodness, perhaps, to enquire into the truth of her story, and I will help her as far as I can,--though not in the useless way she proposes. Her letter is evidently unstudied, and so natural, that the orthography is also in a state of nature.
"Here is a poor creature, ill and solitary, who thinks, as a last resource, of translating you or me into French! Was there ever such a notion? It seems to me the consummation of despair. Pray enquire, and let me know, and, if you could draw a bill on me _here_ for a few hundred francs, at your banker's, I will duly honour it,--that is, if she is not an impostor.[73] If not, let me know, that I may get something remitted by my banker Longhi, of Bologna, for I have no correspondence myself, at Paris: but tell her she must not translate;--if she does, it will be the height of ingratitude.
"I had a letter (not of the same kind, but in French and flattery) from a Madame Sophie Gail, of Paris, whom I take to be the spouse of a Gallo-Greek of that name. Who is she? and what is she? and how came she to take an interest in my _poeshie_ or its author? If you know her, tell her, with my compliments, that, as I only _read_ French, I have not answered her letter; but would have done so in Italian, if I had not thought it would look like an affectation. I have just been scolding my monkey for tearing the seal of her letter, and spoiling a mock book, in which I put rose leaves. I had a civet-cat the other day, too; but it ran away, after scratching my monkey's cheek, and I am in search of it still. It was the fiercest beast I ever saw, and like * * in the face and manner.
"I have a world of things to say; but, as they are not come to a _dénouement_, I don't care to begin their history till it is wound up. After you went, I had a fever, but got well again without bark. Sir Humphry Davy was here the other day, and liked Ravenna very much. He will tell you any thing you may wish to know about the place and your humble servitor.
"Your apprehensions (arising from Scott's) were unfounded. There are _no damages_ in this country, but there will probably be a separation between them, as her family, which is a principal one, by its connections, are very much against _him_, for the whole of his conduct;--and he is old and obstinate, and she is young and a woman, determined to sacrifice every thing to her affections. I have given her the best advice, viz. to stay with him,--pointing out the state of a separated woman, (for the priests won't let lovers live openly together, unless the husband sanctions it,) and making the most exquisite moral reflections,--but to no purpose. She says, 'I will stay with him, if he will let you remain with me. It is hard that I should be the only woman in Romagna who is not to have her Amico; but, if not, I will not live with him; and as for the consequences, love, &c. &c. &c.'--you know how females reason on such occasions.
"He says he has let it go on till he can do so no longer. But he wants her to stay, and dismiss me; for he doesn't like to pay back her dowry and to make an alimony. Her relations are rather for the separation, as they detest him,--indeed, so does every body. The populace and the women are, as usual, all for those who are in the wrong, viz. the lady and her lover. I should have retreated, but honour, and an erysipelas which has attacked her, prevent me,--to say nothing of love, for I love her most entirely, though not enough to persuade her to sacrifice every thing to a frenzy. 'I see how it will end; she will be the sixteenth Mrs. Shuffleton.'
"My paper is finished, and so must this letter.
"Yours ever, B.
"P.S. I regret that you have not completed the Italian Fudges. Pray, how come you to be still in Paris? Murray has four or five things of mine in hand--the new Don Juan, which his back-shop synod don't admire;--a translation of the first Canto of Pulci's Morgante Maggiore, excellent;--short ditto from Dante, not so much approved; the Prophecy of Dante, very grand and worthy, &c. &c. &c.;--a furious prose answer to Blackwood's Observations on Don Juan, with a savage Defence of Pope--likely to make a row. The opinions above I quote from Murray and his Utican senate;--you will form your own, when you see the things.
"You will have no great chance of seeing me, for I begin to think I must finish in Italy. But, if you come my way, you shall have a tureen of macaroni. Pray tell me about yourself, and your intents.
"My trustees are going to lend Earl Blessington sixty thousand pounds (at six per cent.) on a Dublin mortgage. Only think of my becoming an Irish absentee!"
[Footnote 73: According to his desire, I waited upon this young lady, having provided myself with a rouleau of fifteen or twenty Napoleons to present to her from his Lordship; but, with a very creditable spirit, my young countrywoman declined the gift, saying that Lord Byron had mistaken the object of her application to him, which was to request that, by allowing her to have the sheets of some of his works before publication, he would enable her to prepare early translations for the French booksellers, and thus afford her the means of acquiring something towards a livelihood.]
* * * * *
LETTER 375. TO MR. HOPPNER.
"Ravenna, May 25. 1820.
"A German named Ruppsecht has sent me, heaven knows why, several Deutsche Gazettes, of all which I understand neither word nor letter. I have sent you the enclosed to beg you to translate to me some remarks, which appear to be _Goethe's upon_ Manfred--and if I may judge by _two_ notes of _admiration_ (generally put after something ridiculous by us) and the word '_hypocondrisch_,' are any thing but favourable. I shall regret this, for I should have been proud of Goethe's good word; but I sha'n't alter my opinion of him, even though he should be savage.
"Will you excuse this trouble, and do me this favour?--Never mind--soften nothing--I am literary proof--having had good and evil said in most modern languages.
"Believe me," &c.
* * * * *
LETTER 376. TO MR. MOORE.
"Ravenna, June 1. 1820,
"I have received a Parisian letter from W.W., which I prefer answering through you, if that worthy be still at Paris, and, as he says, an occasional visiter of yours. In November last he wrote to me a well-meaning letter, stating, for some reasons of his own, his belief that a re-union might be effected between Lady B. and myself. To this I answered as usual; and he sent me a second letter, repeating his notions, which letter I have never answered, having had a thousand other things to think of. He now writes as if he believed that he had offended me by touching on the topic; and I wish you to assure him that I am not at all so,--but, on the contrary, obliged by his good nature. At the same time acquaint him the _thing is impossible. You know this_, as well as I,--and there let it end.
"I believe that I showed you his epistle in autumn last. He asks me if I have heard of _my_ 'laureat' at Paris[74],--somebody who has written 'a most sanguinary Epître' against me; but whether in French, or Dutch, or on what score, I know not, and he don't say,--except that (for my satisfaction) he says it is the best thing in the fellow's volume. If there is any thing of the kind that I _ought_ to know, you will doubtless tell me. I suppose it to be something of the usual sort;--he says, he don't remember the author's name.
"I wrote to you some ten days ago, and expect an answer at your leisure.
"The separation business still continues, and all the world are implicated, including priests and cardinals. The public opinion is furious against _him_, because he ought to have cut the matter short _at first_, and not waited twelve months to begin. He has been trying at evidence, but can get none _sufficient_; for what would make fifty divorces in England won't do here--there must be the _most decided_ proofs.
"It is the first cause of the kind attempted in Ravenna for these two hundred years; for, though they often separate, they assign a different motive. You know that the continental incontinent are more delicate than the English, and don't like proclaiming their coronation in a court, even when nobody doubts it.
"All her relations are furious against him. The father has challenged him--a superfluous valour, for he don't fight, though suspected of two assassinations--one of the famous Monzoni of Forli. Warning was given me not to take such long rides in the Pine Forest without being on my guard; so I take my stiletto and a pair of pistols in my pocket during my daily rides.
"I won't stir from this place till the matter is settled one way or the other. She is as femininely firm as possible; and the opinion is so much against him, that the _advocates_ decline to undertake his cause, because they say that he is either a fool or a rogue--fool, if he did not discover the liaison till now; and rogue, if he did know it, and waited, for some bad end, to divulge it. In short, there has been nothing like it since the days of Guido di Polenta's family, in these parts.
"If the man has me taken off, like Polonius 'say, he made a good end,'--for a melodrama. The principal security is, that he has not the courage to spend twenty scudi--the average price of a clean-handed bravo--otherwise there is no want of opportunity, for I ride about the woods every evening, with one servant, and sometimes an acquaintance, who latterly looks a little queer in solitary bits of bushes.
"Good bye.--Write to yours ever," &c.
[Footnote 74: M. Lamartine.]
* * * * *
LETTER 377. TO MR. MURRAY.
"Ravenna, June 7. 1820.
"Enclosed is something which will interest you, to wit, the opinion of _the_ greatest man of Germany--perhaps of Europe--upon one of the great men of your advertisements, (all 'famous hands,' as Jacob Tonson used to say of his ragamuffins,)--in short, a critique of _Goethe's_ upon _Manfred_. There is the original, an English translation, and an Italian one; keep them all in your archives,--for the opinions of such a man as Goethe, whether favourable or not, are always interesting--and this is more so, as favourable. His _Faust_ I never read, for I don't know German; but Matthew Monk Lewis, in 1816, at Coligny, translated most of it to me _vivâ voce_, and I was naturally much struck with it; but it was the _Steinbach_ and the _Jungfrau_, and something else, much more than Faustus, that made me write Manfred. The first scene, however, and that of Faustus are very similar. Acknowledge this letter.
"Yours ever.