Ær. 32. GUICCIOLI SEPARATION. "I believe that I showed you his epistle in autumn last. He asks me if I have heard of my 'laureat' at Paris 1,- 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 1 M. Lamartine. [See antè, p. 413.] 2 ["Perhaps I should be much better pleased, if I were told you called me your little friend, than if you complimented me with the title of a great genius,' or an * eminent hand,' as Jacob does all his authors." - Pope to Steele.] 447 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 melodrame. The principal security is, that he has not the courage to spend twenty scudi - the average price of a clean-handed bravo 66 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." LETTER 377. TO MR. MURRAY. 66 Ravenna, June 7. 1820. upon "Enclosed is something which will interest you, to wit, the opinion of the greatest man of Germany-perhaps of Europe one of the great men of your advertisements, (all famous hands,' as Jacob Tonson 2 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 aland this is more so, as ways interesting don't know German; but Matthew Monk favourable. His Faust I never read, for I Lewis, in 1816, at Coligny, translated most of it to me vivá voce, and I was naturally much struck with it; but it was the Staubach and the Jungfrau, and something else, much more than Faustus, that made me write Manfred. The first scene, however, and that this letter. of Faustus are very similar. Acknowledge "Yours ever. "P. S.-I have received Ivanhoe ; — -good. Pray send me some tooth-powder and tincture of myrrh, by Waite, &c. Ricciardetto should have been translated literally, or not at all. As to puffing Whistlecraft, it won't do.3 I'll tell you why some day or other. Cornwall's a poet, but spoilt by the detestable schools of the day. Mrs. Hemans is a poet 3 [Probably this alludes to an article on Whistlecraft, in the Quart. Rev. vol. xxi. p. 503.; in which the reviewer says, "About a hundred years ago, a poem, bearing a certain degree of affinity to the Specimen,' was produced by Monsignor Forteguerri, a writer who in genius and means was far inferior to the English Poet," &c. &c.] also, but too stiltified and apostrophic, - and quite wrong. Men died calmly before the Christian era, and since, without Christianity; witness the Romans, and, lately, Thistlewood, Sandt 2, and Louvel 3 -men who ought to have been weighed down with their crimes, even had they believed. A deathbed is a matter of nerves and constitution, and not of religion. Voltaire was frightened, Frederick of Prussia not: Christians the same, according to their strength rather than their creed. What does Helga Herbert + mean by his stanza? which is octave got drunk or gone mad. He ought to have his ears boxed with Thor's hammer for rhyming so fantastically."s "GOETHE ON MANFRED. [1820.] "Byron's tragedy, Manfred, was to me a wonderful phenomenon, and one that closely touched me. This singular intellectual poet has taken my Faustus to himself, and extracted from it the strongest nourishment for his hypochondriac humour. He has made use of the impelling principles in his own way, for his own purposes, so that no one of them remains the same; and it is particu- | larly on this account that I cannot enough admire his genius. The whole is in this way so completely formed anew, that it would be an interesting task for the critic to point out not only the alterations he has made, but their degree of resemblance with, or dissimilarity to, the original; in the course of which I cannot deny that the gloomy heat of an unbounded and exuberant despair becomes at last oppressive to us. Yet is the dissatisfaction we feel always connected with esteem and admiration. "We find thus in this tragedy the quintessence of the most astonishing talent born to be its own tormentor. The character of Lord Byron's life and poetry hardly permits a just and equitable appreciation. He has often enough confessed what it is that torments him. He has repeatedly pourtrayed it; and scarcely any one feels compassion for this intolerable suffering, over which he is ever laboriously ruminating. There are, properly speaking, two females whose phantoms for ever haunt him, and which, in this piece also, perform principal The following is the article from Goethe's "Kunst und Älterthum," enclosed in this letter. The grave confidence with which the venerable critic traces the fancies of his brother poet to real persons and events, making no difficulty even of a double murder at Florence to furnish grounds for his theory, affords an amusing instance of the disposition so prevalent throughout Europe, to picture Byron as a man of marvels and mysteries, as well in his life as his poetry. To these exaggerated, or wholly false notions of him, the numerous fictions palmed upon the world of his romantic tours and wonderful adventures in places he never saw, and with persons that never existed 6, have, no doubt, considerably contributed; and the consequence is, so utterly out of truth and nature are the representations of his life and character long current upon the Conti-parts-one under the name of Astarte, the nent, that it may be questioned whether the real "flesh and blood" hero of these pages, -the social, practical-minded, and, with all his faults and eccentricities, English Lord Byron, - may not, to the over-exalted imaginations of most of his foreign admirers, appear but an ordinary, unromantic, and prosaic personage. 1 [Arthur Thistlewood, executed at the Old Bailey, May 1. 1820, for High Treason.] * [Charles Sandt, the assassin of Kotzebue, at Manheim, in March 1819. After the murder he exclaimed "God, I thank thee, for having permitted me to accomplish this act!" and plunged the bloody poniard in his own breast. He went to the place of execution as to a fête, and his last words were, that he" died for his country."] 3 [The murderer of the Duc de Berri, in February 1820.] 4 [The Hon. William Herbert, uncle to the Earl of Carnarvon, author of " Helga," "Icelandic Translations," &c. &c.] other without form or actual presence, and merely a voice. Of the horrid occurrence which took place with the former the following is related :- When a bold and enterprising young man, he won the affections of a Florentine lady. Her husband discovered the amour, and murdered his wife; but the murderer was the same night found dead in the street, and there was no one on whom any suspicion could be attached. Lord 5 [" Herbert shall wield Thor's hammer, and sometimes, In gratitude, thoul't praise his rugged rhymes." English Bards, &c.] Of this kind are the accounts, filled with all sorts of circumstantial wonders, of his residence in the island of Mytilene; his voyages to Sicily, to Ithaca, with the Countess Guiccioli, &c. &c. But the most absurd, perhaps, of all these fabrications, are the stories told by Pouqueville, of the poet's religious conferences in the cell of Father Paul, at Athens; and the still more unconscionable fiction in which Rizo has indulged, in giving the details of a pretended theatrical scene, got up (according to this poetical historian) between Lord Byron and the Archbishop of Arta, at the tomb of Botzaris, in Missolonghi. Ær. 32. GOETHE ON MANFRED. 449 Byron removed from Florence, and these when heard. And thus I was glad to see spirits haunted him all his life after. the words without their borrowed robes; "This romantic incident is rendered highly probable by innumerable allusions to it in his poems. As, for instance, when turning his sad contemplations inwards, he applies to himself the fatal history of the king of Sparta. It is as follows:- - Pausanias, a Lacedemonian general, acquires glory by the important victory at Platæa, but afterwards forfeits the confidence of his countrymen through his arrogance, obstinacy, and secret intrigues with the enemies of his country. This man draws upon himself the heavy guilt of innocent blood, which attends him to his end; for, while commanding the fleet of the allied Greeks, in the Black Sea, he is inflamed with a violent passion for a Byzantine maiden. After long resistance, he at length obtains her from her parents, and she is to be delivered up to him at night. She modestly desires the servant to put out the lamp, and, while groping her way in the dark, she overturns it. Pausanias is awakened from his sleep apprehensive of an attack from murderers, he seizes his sword, and destroys his mistress. The horrid sight never leaves him. Her shade pursues him unceasingly, and he implores for aid in vain from the gods and the exorcising priests. That poet must have a lacerated heart who selects such a scene from antiquity, appropriates it to himself, and burdens his tragic image with it. The following soliloquy, which is overladen with gloom and a weariness of life, is, by this remark, rendered intelligible. We recommend it as an exercise to all friends of declamation. Hamlet's soliloquy appears improved upon here." LETTER 378. TO MR. MOORE. 66 Ravenna, June 9. 1820. Galignani has just sent me the Paris edition of your works (which I wrote to order), and I am glad to see my old friends with a French face. I have been skimming and dipping, in and over them, like a swallow, and as pleased as one. It is the first time that I had seen the Melodies without music; and, I don't know how, but I can't read in a music-book-the crotchets confound the words in my head, though I recollect them perfectly when sung. Music assists my memory through the ear, not through the eye; I mean, that her perplex me upon paper, but they are a help quavers 1 The critic here subjoins the soliloquy from Manfred, beginning "We are the fools of time and terror," in which the allusion to Pausanias occurs. 6 "The biographer has made a botch of your life-calling your father a venerable old gentleman,' and prattling of Addison,' and dowager countesses.' If that damned fellow was to write my life, I would certainly take his. And then, at the Dublin dinner, you have made a speech' (do you recollect, at Douglas K.'s, Sir, he made me a speech?') too complimentary to the living poets,' and somewhat redolent of universal praise. I am but too well off in it, but "You have not sent me any poetical or personal news of yourself. Why don't you complete an Italian Tour of the Fudges? I have just been turning over Little, which I knew by heart in 1803, being then in my fifteenth summer. Heigho! I believe all the mischief I have ever done, or sung, has been owing to that confounded book of yours. * ** "In my last I told you of a cargo of Poeshie,' which I had sent to M. at his own impatient desire; and, now he has got it, he don't like it, and demurs. Perhaps he is right. I have no great opinion of any of my last shipment, except a translation from Pulci, which is word for word, and verse for verse. I am in the third act of a Tragedy; but whether it will be finished or not, I know not: I have, at this present, too many passions of my own on hand to do justice to those of the dead. Besides the vexations mentioned in my last, I have incurred a quarrel with the Pope's carabiniers, or gens d'armerie, who have petitioned the Cardinal against my liveries, as resembling too nearly their own lousy uniform. They particularly object to the epaulettes, which all the world with us have on upon gala days. My liveries are of the colours conforming to my arms, and have been the family hue since the year 1066. "I have sent a tranchant reply, as you may suppose; and have given to understand that, if any soldados of that respectable corps insult my servants, I will do likewise by their gallant commanders; and I have directed my ragamuffins, six in number, who are tolerably savage, to defend themselves, in case of aggression; and, on holidays and gaudy days, I shall arm the whole set, including myself, in case of accidents or treachery. I used to play pretty well at the broad-sword, once upon a time, at Angelo's ; but I should like the pistol, our national buccaneer weapon, better, though I am out of practice at present. However, I can wink and hold out mine iron.' It makes me think (the whole G g LETTER 379. TO MR. Moore. "Ravenna, July 13. 1820. "To remove or increase your Irish anxiety about my being in a wisp,' I answer your letter forthwith; premising that, as I am a Will of the wisp,' I may chance to flit out of it. But, first, a word on the Memoir; - I have no objection, nay, I would rather that one correct copy was taken and deposited in honourable hands, in case of accidents happening to the original; for you know that I have none, and have never even re-read, nor, indeed, read at all what is there written I only know that I wrote it with the fullest intention to be faithful and true' in my narrative, but not impartial-no, by the Lord! I can't pretend to be that, while I feel. But I wish to give every body concerned the opportunity to contradict or correct me. ; "I have no objection to any proper person seeing what is there written, - seeing it was written, like every thing else, for the purpose of being read, however much many writings may fail in arriving at that object. "With regard to the wisp,' the Pope has pronounced their separation. The decree came yesterday from Babylon,-it was she and her friends who demanded it, on the grounds of her husband's (the noble Count Cavalier's) extraordinary usage. He opposed it with all his might because of the alimony, which has been assigned, with all her goods, chattels, carriage, &c. to be restored by him. In Italy they can't divorce. He insisted on her giving me up, and he would forgive every thing, * * But, in this country, the very courts hold such proofs in abhorrence, the Italians being as much more delicate in public than the English, as they are more passionate in private. "The friends and relatives, who are numerous and powerful, reply to him—' You, yourself, are either fool or knave,-fool, if you did not see the consequences of the approximation of these two young persons, -knave, if you connive at it. Take your choice, but don't break out (after twelve 1 An Irish phrase for being in a scrape. months of the closest intimacy, under your own eyes and positive sanction) with a scandal, which can only make you ridiculous and her unhappy.' "He swore that he thought our intercourse was purely amicable, and that I was more partial to him than to her, till melancholy testimony proved the contrary. To this they answer, that Will of this wisp' was not an unknown person, and that 'clamosa Fama' had not proclaimed the purity of my morals; that her brother, a year ago, wrote from Rome to warn him that his wife would infallibly be led astray by this ignis fatuus, unless he took proper measures, all of which he neglected to take, &c. &c. "Now he says that he encouraged my return to Ravenna, to see in quanti piedi di acqua siamo,' and he has found enough to drown him in. In short, "Ce ne fut pas le tout; sa femme se plaignit — It is but to let the women alone, in the way of conflict, for they are sure to win against the field. She returns to her father's house, and I can only see her under great restrictions-such is the custom of the country. The relations behave very well :- I offered any settlement, but they refused to accept it, and swear she shan't live with G. (as he has tried to prove her faithless), but that he shall maintain her; and, in fact, a judgment to this effect came yesterday. I am, of course, in an awkward situation enough. "I have heard no more of the carabiniers who protested against my liveries. They are not popular, those same soldiers, and, in a small row, the other night, one was slain, another wounded, and divers put to flight, by some of the Romagnuole youth, who are dexterous, and somewhat liberal of the knife. The perpetrators are not discovered, but I hope and believe that none of my ragamuffins were in it, though they are somewhat savage, and secretly armed, like most of the inhabitants. It is their way, and saves sometimes a good deal of litigation. "There is a revolution at Naples. If so, it will probably leave a card at Ravenna in its way to Lombardy. "Your publishers seem to have used you like mine. M. has shuffled, and almost insinuated that my last productions are dull. Dull, sir! damme, dull! I believe he is right. He begs for the completion of my tragedy of Marino Faliero, none of which is yet gone to England. The fifth act is nearly completed, but it is dreadfully long - 40 451 the rest of his time in perfect solitude. To a mind like his, whose world was within itself, such a mode of life could have been neither new nor unwelcome; but to the woman, young and admired, whose acquaintance with the world and its pleasures had but just begun, this change was, it must be confessed, most sudden and trying. Count Guiccioli was rich, and, as a young wife, she had gained absolute power over him. She was proud, and his station placed her among the highest in Ravenna. They had talked of travelling to Naples, Florence, Paris, and every luxury, in short, that wealth could command was at her disposal. All this she now voluntarily and determinedly sacrificed for Byron. Her splendid home abandoned - her relations all openly at war with her- her kind father but tolerating, from fondness, what he could not approve she was now, upon a pittance of 2001. a year, living apart from the world, her sole occupation the task of educating herself for her illustrious friend, and her sole reward the few brief glimpses of him which their now restricted intercourse allowed. Of the man who could inspire and keep alive so devoted a feeling, it may be pronounced with confidence that he could not have been such as, in the freaks of his own wayward humour, he represented himself; while, on the lady's side, the whole history of her attachment goes to prove how completely an Italian woman, whether by nature or from her social position, is led to invert the usual course of such frailties among ourselves, and, weak in resisting the first impulses of passion, to reserve the whole strength of her character for a display of constancy and devotedness afterwards. LETTER 380. TO MR. MURRAY. "Ravenna, July 17. 1820. "I have received some books, and Quarterlies, and Edinburghs, for all which I am grateful they contain all I know of England, except by Galignani's newspaper. The tragedy is completed, but now comes the task of copy and correction. It is very long, (42 sheets of long paper, of four pages each,) and I believe must make more than 140 or 150 pages, besides many historical extracts as notes, which I mean to append. History is closely followed. Dr. Moore's account is in some respects false, None of the and in all foolish and flippant. chronicles (and I have consulted Sanuto, Sandi, Navagero, and an anonymous Siege of Zara, besides the histories of Laugier, Daru, Sismondi, &c.) state, or even hint, |