His look was 'failed him, and he sunk into a seat. 'fixed, and the expression such that I began to fear 'for his reason; he did not shed a tear, and his coun'tenance manifested so hopeless, so profound, so sublime a sorrow, that at the moment he appeared a being of a nature superior to humanity. He re'mained immoveable in the same attitude for an hour, ' and no consolation which I endeavoured to afford 'him seemed to reach his ears, far less his heart. But enough of this sad episode, on which I cannot linger, ' even after the lapse of so many years, without renewing in my own heart the awful wretchedness of 'that day. He desired to be left alone, and I was obliged to leave him. I found him on the following 'morning tranquillized, and with an expression of 'religious resignation on his features. "She is more 'fortunate than we are," he said; "besides, her position in the world would scarcely have allowed her 'to be happy. It is God's will-let us mention it no 'more." And from that day he would never pronounce her name; but became more anxious when ' he spoke of Ada,—so much so as to disquiet himself 'when the usual accounts sent him were for a post or ' two delayed *.' *Nell' occasione pure della morire della sua figlia naturale io ho ' veduto nel suo dolore tuttociò che vi è di più profondo nella tenerezza ' paterna. La sua condotta verso di codesta fanciulla era stata sempre quella del padre il più amoroso; ma dalle di lui parole non si sarebbe giudicato che avesse tanta affezione per lei. Alla prima notizia della 'di lei malattia egli fu sommamente agitato; giunse poi la notizia della morte, ed io dovessi esercitare il tristo uficio di participarla a Lord 'Byron. Quel sensibile momento sarà indelebile nella mia memoria. Egli non usciva da varii giorni la sera: io andai dunque da lui. La 'prima domanda che egli mi fece fu relativa al Corriere che egli aveva spedito per avere notizie della sua figlia, e di cui il retardo lo inquietava. Dopo qualche momento di sospensione con tutta l'arte che sapeva suggerirmi il mio proprio dolore gli tolsi ogni speranza della 'guarizione della fanciulla. "Ho inteso," disse egli-"basta così-non dite di più "-e un pallore mortale si sparse sul suo volto; le forze gli The melancholy death of poor Shelley, which happened, as we have seen, also during this period, seems to have affected Lord Byron's mind, less with grief for the actual loss of his friend, than with bitter indignation against those who had, through life, so grossly misrepresented him; and never certainly was there an instance where the supposed absence of all religion in an individual was assumed so eagerly as an excuse for the absence of all charity in judging him. Though never personally acquainted with Mr. Shelley, I can join freely with those who most loved him in admiring the various excellencies of his heart and genius, and lamenting the too early doom that robbed us of the mature fruits of both. His short life had been like his poetry, a sort of bright erroneous dream,―false in the general principles on which it proceeded, though beautiful and attaching in most of the details. Had full time been allowed for the ' over-light' of his imagination to have been tempered down by the judgment which, in him, was still in reserve, the world at large would have been taught to pay that high homage to his genius which those only who saw what he was capable of can now be expected to accord to it. mancarono, e cadde sopra una sedia d'appoggio. Il suo sguardo era fisso e tale che mi fece temere per la sua ragione. Egli rimase in quello stato d'immobilità un' ora; e nessuna parola di consolazione 'che io potessi indirezzargli pareva penetrare le sue orecchie non che il suo core. Ma basta così di questa trista detenzione nella quale non posso fermarmi dopo tanti anni senza risvegliare di nuovo nel mio animo le terribile sofferenze di quel giorno. La mattinà lo trovai tranquillo, e con una espressione di religiosa rassegnazione nel suo volto. "Ella è più felice di noi," diss' egli-" d'altronde la sua situazione nel ' mondo non le avrebbe data forse felicità. Dio ha voluto così non ne parliamo più." E da quel giorno in poi non ha più voluto proferire il nome di quella fanciulla. Ma è divenuto più pensieroso parlando di Adda, al punto di tormentarsi quando gli ritardavano di qualche ordi'nario le di lei notizie.' It was about this time that Mr. Cowell, paying a visit to Lord Byron at Genoa, was told by him that some friends of Mr. Shelley, sitting together one evening, had seen that gentleman, distinctly, as they thought, walk into a little wood at Lerici, when at the same moment, as they afterwards discovered, he was far away, in quite a different direction. This,' added Lord Byron, in a low, awe-struck tone of voice, was but ten days before poor Shelley died.' I have received your letter, and as you explain it, 'I have no objection, on your account, to omit those 6 passages in the new Mystery (which were marked in the half-sheet sent the other day to Pisa), or the passage in Cain;-but why not be open and say so ' at first? You should be more straight-forward on every account. 'I have been very unwell-four days confined to 'my bed in the worst inn's worst room," at Lerici, ' with a violent rheumatic and bilious attack, consti'pation, and the devil knows what: no physician, except a young fellow, who, however, was kind and 'cautious, and that's enough. At last I seized Thompson's book of prescriptions '(a donation of yours), and physicked myself with the 'first dose I found in it; and after undergoing the ravages of all kinds of decoctions, sallied from bed ' on the fifth day to cross the Gulf to Sestri. The sea 'revived me instantly; and I ate the sailor's cold fish, and drank a gallon of country wine, and got to 'Genoa the same night after landing at Sestri, and have ever since been keeping well, but thinner, and ' with an occasional cough towards evening. I am afraid the Journal is a bad business, and 'won't do; but in it I am sacrificing myself for others 'I can have no advantage in it. I believe the brothers Hunts to be honest men; I am sure that they are poor ones; they have not a nap. They pressed me to engage in this work, and in an evil hour I con'sented. Still I shall not repent, if I can do them. 'the least service. I have done all I can for Leigh 'Hunt since he came here; but it is almost useless: -his wife is ill, his six children not very tractable, and in the affairs of this world he himself is a child. The death of Shelley left them totally aground; and 'I could not see them in such a state without using 'the common feelings of humanity, and what means ' were in my power, to set them afloat again. 'So Douglas Kinnaird is out of the way? He was 'so the last time I sent him a parcel, and he gives no previous notice. When is he expected again? 'Yours, &c. 'P.S. Will you say at once-do you publish Wer'ner and the Mystery or not? You never once allude ' to them. 'That curst advertisement of Mr. J. Hunt is out of the limits. I did not lend him my name to be hawked about in this way. 'However, I believe-at least, hope that after all you may be a good fellow at bottom, and it is on this 'presumption that I now write to you on the subject of a poor woman of the name of Yossy, who is, or was, an author of yours, as she says, and published a 'book on Switzerland in 1816, patronized by the "Court and Colonel M'Mahon." But it seems that 'neither the Court nor the Colonel could get over the 'portentous price of "three pounds, thirteen, and sixpence," which alarmed the too susceptible public; and, in short, "the book died away," and, what is worse, the poor soul's husband died too, and she 'writes with the man a corpse before her; but in'stead of addressing the bishop or Mr. Wilberforce, she hath recourse to that proscribed, atheistical, syl'logistical, phlogistical person, mysen, as they say in 'Notts. It is strange enough, but the rascaille Eng'lish who calumniate me in every direction and on every score, whenever they are in great distress recur to me for assistance. If I have had one ex'ample of this, I have had letters from a thousand, and as far as is in my power have tried to repay ' good for evil, and purchase a shilling's worth of sal'vation as long as my pocket can hold out. Now, I am willing to do what I can for this un'fortunate person; but her situation and her wishes '(not unreasonable however) require more than can 'be advanced by one individual like myself; for I 'have many claims of the same kind just at present, ' and also some remnants of debt to pay in EnglandGod, he knows, the latter how reluctantly! Can the 'Literary Fund do nothing for her? By your interest, 'which is great among the pious, I dare say that 'something might be collected. Can you get any of 'her books published? Suppose you took her as ' author in my place, now vacant among your raga'muffins; she is a moral and pious person, and will 'shine upon your shelves. But seriously, do what you can for her.' |