« AnteriorContinuar »
disposed to publish, it will be for his benefit, and it at the Countess Benzona's last night, the question of is to and for him that you will name a price, if you more than one person in the office, and of these take upon you the work. I would edite it myself, cavalieri serventi' (in the plural, recollect) I found but am too far off, and too lazy to undertake it; but that they all accorded in pronouncing for cavalier I wish that it could be done. The letters of Lord servente' in the singular number. I wish Mr* ** Hervey, in Mr Rose's * opinion and mine, are good; (or whoever Griffiths' scribbler may be) would not talk and the short French love letters certainly are Lady of what he don't understand. Such fellows are not M. W. Montague's the French not good, but the fit to be intrusted with Italian, even in a quotation. sentiments beautiful. Gray's letter good; and Mason's tolerable. The whole correspondence must be well “ Did you receive two additional stanzas, to be weeded; but this being done, a small and pretty inserted toward the close of Canto Fourth? Respond, popular volume might be made of it.—There are that (if not) they may be sent. many ministers' letters—Gray, the ambassador at Tell Mr * * and Mr Hanson that they may as Naples, Horace Mann, and others of the same kind well expect Geneva to come to me, as that I should go of animal.
to Geneva. The messenger may go on or return, as “ I thought of a preface, defending Lord Hervey he plcases; I won't stir: and I look upon it as a piece against Pope's attack, but Pope-quoad Pope, the of singular absurdity in those who know me imagiepoet—against all the world, in the unjustifiable at- ing that I should not to say malice, in attempting tempts begun by Warton, and carried on at this day unnecessary torture. If, on the occasion, my interests by the new school of critics and scribblers, who think should suffer, it is their neglect that is to blame; and themselves poets because they do not write like Pope. they may all be dd together. I have no patience with such cursed humbug and bad taste; your whole generation are not worth a Canto “ It is ten o'clock and time to dress. of the Rape of the Lock, or the Essay on Man, or
“ Yours, &c." the Dunciad, or any thing that is his.'-But it is three in the matin, and I. must go to bed. “Yours alway, &c.”
TO MR MURRAY.
TO MR MURRAY.
April 230, 1818 “ The time is past in which I could feel for the dead,
-or I should feel for the death of Lady Mel
bourne, the best, and kindest, and ablest female I “Venice, April 17th, 1818. ever knew, old or young. But I have supped full “ A few days ago, I wrote to you a letter, request- of horrors,' and events of this kind have only a kind of ing you to desire Hanson to desire his messenger to numbness worse than pain,-like a violent blow on come on from Geneva to Venice, because I won't go the elbow or the head. There is one link less between from Venice to Geneva; and if this is not done, the England and myself. messenger may be damned, with him who mis-sent “ Now to business. I presented you with Beppo, him. Pray reiterate my request.
as part of the contract for Canto Fourth, consider“ With the proofs returned, I sent two additional ing the price you are to pay for the same, and intendslanzas for Canto Fourth : did they arrive?
ing to eke you out in case of public caprice or my own “ Your monthly reviewer has made a mistake: poetical failure. If you choose to suppress it entirely, Cavaliere, alone, is well enough; but · Cavalier' at Mr * * * *'s suggestion, you may do as you servente has always the e mute in conversation, and please. But recollect it is not to be published in a omitted in writing; so that it is not for the sake of garbled or mutilated state. I reserve to my friends metre; and pray let Griffiths know this, with my and myself the right of correcting the press; if the pubcompliments. I humbly conjecture that I know as lication continue, it is to continue in its present form. much of Italian society and language as any of his people; but, to make assurance doubly sure, I asked,
says that he did not write this letter, &c., I am ready to believe him; but for the firmness
of my former persuasion, I refer to Mr * * * * Among Lord Byron's papers, I find some verses aa- who can inform you how sincerely I erred on this point. dressed to him, about this time, by Mr W. Rose, with the He has also the note–or, at least, had it, for I gare following note annexed to them :-" These verses were
it to him with my verbal comments thereupon. As sent to me by W. S. Rose, from Abaro, in the spring of 1818. They are good and true; and Rose is a fine fellow,
to · Beppo,' I will not alter or suppress a syllable for and one of the few English who understand Italy, without any man's pleasure but my own. which Italian is nothing. The verses begin thus :
“You may tell them this; and add, that nothing “Byron, † while you make gay what circle fits ye,
but force or necessity shall stir me one step towards
the places to which they would wring me.
“ If your literary matters prosper, let me know. Compassionate our cruel case,-alone, Our pleasure an academy of frogs,
If. Beppo' pleases, you shall have more in a year or Who nightly serenade us from the bogs," &c. &c. two in the same mood. And so, 'Good morrow 10 + "I have hunted out a precedent for this unceremonious you, good Master Lieutenant,' address."
66 As Mr
be it one, is that *
at the head of LETTER CCCXVII.
your profession in your eyes ? ( 'll be curst if he is
of mine, or ever shall be. He is the only one of us TO MR MOORE.
(but of us he is not) whose coronation I would oppose. “Palazzo Mocenigo, Canal Grande, Let them take Scott, Campbell, Crabbe, or you, or “ Venice, June 1st, 1818.
me, or any of the living, and throne him ;-but not “ Your letter is almost the only news, as yet, of this new Jacob Behinen, this Canto 4th, and it has by no means settled its fate,-*
whose pride might at least, does not tell me how the ‘Poeshie' has been have kept him true, even had his principles turned as received by the public. But I suspect, no great perverted as his soi-disant poetry. things,-firstly, from Murray's ' horrid stillness ;' se- “ But Leigh Hunt is a good man, and a good facondly, from what you say about the stanzas running ther-see his Odes to all the Masters Hunt;-a good into each other, which I take not to be yours, but husband-see his Sonnet to Mrs Hunt;a notion you have been dinned with among the Blues.
t;-a good friend
-see his Epistles to different people ;-and a great The fact is, that the terza rima of the Italians, which coxcomb, and a very vulgar person in every thing always runs on and in, may have led me into expe- about him. But that's not his fault, but of circumriments, and carelessness into conceit—or conceit stances.t into carelessness-in either of which events failure will be probable, and my fair woman,' superne,' end in a fish ; so that Childe Harold will be like the mer.
“ I do not know any good model for a life of Sherimaid, my family crest, with the Fourth Canto for a
dan but that of Savage. Recollect, however, that tail thereunto. I won't quarrel with the public, the life of such a man may be made far more amusing however, for the 'Bulgars' are generally right ; and than if he had been a Wilberforce ;—and this withif I miss now, I may hit another time:-and so, the
out offending the living, or insulting the dead. The 'gods give us joy.'
whigs abuse him; however, he never left them, and “ You like Beppo, that's right. * * * * I have such blunderers deserve neither credit nor compasnot had the Fudges yet, but live in hopes. I need
sion. As for his creditors,-remember, Sheridan not say that your successes are mine. By the way,
never had a shilling, and was thrown, with great Lydia White is here, and has just borrowed my copy
powers and passions, into the thick of the world, and of Lalla Rookh.'
placed upon the pinnacle of success, with no other
external means to support him in his elevation. Did “ Hunt's letter is probably the exact piece of vulgar
pay his debts ?-or did Sheridan take coxcombry you might expect from his situation. He
a subscription? Was the Duke of Norfolk's drunkis a good man, with some poetical elements in his
enness more excusable than his? Were his intrigues but spoilt by the Christ-Church Hospital and
more notorious than those of all his contemporaries ? a Sunday newspaper,—to say nothing of the Surry
and is his memory to be blasted, and theirs respectJail, which conceited him into a martyr. But he is a
ed? Don't let yourself be led away by clamour, but good man. When I saw 'Rimini' in MS., I told him
compare him with the coalitioner Fox, and the penthat I deemed it good poetry at bottom, disfigured only
sioner Burke, as a man of principle, and with ten hunby a strange style. His answer was, that his style was
dred thousand in personal views, and with none in a system, or upon system, or some such cant; and,
talent, for he beat them all out and out. Without when a man talks of system, his case is hopeless : so
means, without connexion, without character (which I said no more to him, and very little to any one else.
might be false at first, and make him mad afterwards “ He believes his trash of vulgar phrases tortured
from desperation), he beat them all, in all he ever into compound barbarisms to be old English; and
attempted. But alas poor human nature! Good night we may say of it as Aimwell says of Captain Gib
or, rather, morning. It is four,--and the dawn gleams bet's regiment, when the Captain calls it an "old
over the Grand Canal, and unshadows the Rialto. corps,'— the oldest in Europe, if I may judge by I must to bed; up all night—but, as George Philpot your uniform. He sent out his . Foliage' by Percy
says, “it's life, though ; damme, it's life!' Shelley and, of all the ineffable Centaurs that were ever begotten by Self-love upon a Night-mare, I think this monstrous Sagittary the most prodigious.
“Excuse errors-no time for revision. The post He (Leigh H.) is an honest Charlatan, who has per
goes out at noon, and I sha'n't be up then. I will suaded himself into a belief of his own impostures, write again soon about your plan for a publication.” and talks Punch in pure simplicity of heart, taking himself (as poor Fitzgerald said of himself in the
During the greater part of the period which this Morning Post) for Vates in both senses, or nonsenses,
last series of letters comprises, he had continued to of the word. Did you look at the translations of his
oceupy the same lodgings in an extremely narrow street own which he prefers to Pope and Cowper, and says
called the Spezieria, at the house of the linen-draper, so ?-Did you read his skimble-skamble about * being at the head of his own profession, in the eyes
* I had, in first transcribing the above letter for the of those who followed it? I thought that poetry was
press, omitted the whole of this caustic and, perhaps, overan art, or an attribute, and not a profession ;-but
severe character of Mr Hunt; but the tone of that gentle
man's book having, as far as himself is concerned, released + I had said, I think, in my letter to him, that this prac- me from all those scruples which prompted the supprestice of carrying one stanza into another was “something sion, I have considered myself at liberty to restore the like taking on horses another stage without baiting.»
to whose lady he devoted so much of his thoughts. venial in comparison with the strange, headlong career That he was, for the time, attached to this person,- of licence to which, when weaned from that conas far as a passion so transient can deserve the name nexion, he so unrestrainedly and, it may be added, of attachment,-is evident from his whole conduct. defyingly abandoned himself. Of the state of his The language of his letters shows sufficiently how mind on leaving England I have already endeavoured much the novelty of this foreign tie had caught his to convey some idea, and, among the feelings that fancy; and to the Venitians, among whom such ar- went to make up that self-centred spirit of resistance rangements are mere matters of course, the assiduity which he then opposed to his fate, was an indignant with which he attende dhis Signora to the theatre, and
scorn of his own countrymen for the wrongs the Ridottos was a subject of much amusement. It thought they had done him. For a time, the kindly was with difficulty, indeed, that he could be prevailed sentiments which he still harboured towards Lady upon to absent himself from her so long as to admit Byron, and a sort of vague hope, perhaps, that all of that hasty visit to the Immortal City, out of which would yet come right again, kept his mind in a mood one of his own noblest titles to immortality sprung; somewhat more softened and docile, as well as suffiand having, in the space of a few weeks, drunk in ciently under the influence still of English opinion, to more inspiration from all he saw than, in a less prevent his breaking out into open rebellion against excited state, possibly, he might have imbibed in it, as he unluckily did afterwards. years, he again hurried back, without extending his By the failure of the attempted mediation, with journey to Naples,-having written to the fair Mari- Lady Byron, his last link with home was severed, anna to meet him at some distance from Venice. while, notwithstanding the quiet and unobtrusive life
Besides some seasonable acts of liberality to the which he had led at Geneva, there was as yet, he husband, who had, it seems, failed in trade, he also found, no cessation whatever of the slanderous warpresented to the lady herself a handsoine set of dia- fare against his character ;-the same busy and monds; and, there is an anecdote related, in reference misrepresenting spirit which had tracked his every to this gift, which shows the exceeding easiness and step at home having, with no less malicious watchforbearance of his disposition towards those who had fulness, dogged him into exile. To this persuasion, acquired any hold on his heart. A casket, which for which he had hut too much grounds, was added was for sale, being one day offered to him, he was all that an imagination like his could lend to truth,not a little surprised on discovering them to be the all that he was left to interpret, in his own way, of same jewels which he had, not long before, presented the absent and the silent,—till, at length, arming to his fair favourite, and which had, by some unro- himself against fancied enemies and wrongs, and, mantic means, found their way back into the market. with the condition (as it seemed to of an outlaw, Without inquiring, however, any further into the assuming also the desperation, he resolved, as his circumstances, he generously repurchased the casket, countrymen would not do justice to the better parts and presented it to the lady once more, good-hu- of his nature, to have, at least, the perverse satismouredly taxing her with the little estimation in faction of braving and shocking them with the worst. which, as it appeared, she held his presents. It is to this feeling, I am convinced, far more than
To whatever extent this unsentimental incident may to any depraved taste for such a course of life, that have had a share in dispelling the romance of his the extravagances to which he now, for a short time, passion, it is certain that, before the expiration of gave loose are to be attributed. The exciting effect
, the first twelvemonth, he began to find his lodgings indeed, of this mode of existence while it lasted, in the Spezieria inconvenient, and accordingly entered both upon his spirits and his genius, --so like what
, into treaty with Count Gritti for his Palace on the as he himself tells us, was always produced in him Grand Canal,—engaging to give for it, what is con- by a state of contest and defiance,-showed how sidered, I believe, a large rent in Venice, 200 Jouis much of this latter feeling must have been mixed with a year. On finding, however, that, in the coun
The altered character, too, of his terpart of the lease brought for his signature, a new
letters in this respect cannot fail, I think, to be reclause had been introduced, prohibiting him not only marked by the reader,—there being, with an evident from underletting the house, in case he should leave increase of intellectual vigour, a tone of violence and Venice, but from even allowing any of his own friends bravado breaking out in them continually, which to occupy it during his occasional absence, he declined marks the high pitch of reaction to which he had closing on such terms; and resenting so material a
wound up his temper. departure from the original engagement, declared in In fact, so far from the powers of his intellect society, that he would have no objection to give the being at all weakened or dissipated by these irregusame rent, though acknowledged to be exorbitant, larities, he was, perhaps, at no time of his life, so for any other Palace in Venice, however inferior, in actively in the full possession of all its energies ; and all respects, to this. After such an announcement, his friend Shelley, who went to Venice, at this he was not likely to remain long unhoused; and the period, to see him,* used to say, that all he observed Countess Mocenigo having offered him one of her three Palazzi, on the Grand Canal, he removed to * The following are extracts from a letter of Shelley's to this house in the summer of the present year, and
a friend at this time.
“ Venice, August, 1818. continued to occupy it during the remainder of his
“We came from Padua hither in a gondola; and the stay in Venice.
Gondoliere, among other things, without any hint on par Highly censurable, in point of morality and deco- part, began talking of Lord Byron. He said he was a rum, as was his course of life while under the roof of lived very luxuriously, and spent great sums of money.
‘Giovanotto Inglese,' with a nome stravagante,' who Madame it was (with pain I am forced to confess) " At three o'clock I called on Lord Byron. He was de
of the workings of Byron's mind, during his visit, I causes of the detestation which he afterwards felt gave him a far higher idea of its powers than he had for Venice, this recollection of the excesses to which ever before entertained. It was, indeed, then that he had there abandoned himself was not the least Shelley sketched out, and chiefly wrote, his poem of prominent. “Julian and Maddalo,” in the latter of which per
The most distinguished and, at last, the reigning sonages he has so picturesquely shadowed forth his favourite of all this unworthy Haram was a woman noble friend * and the allusions to “the Swan of named Margarita Cogni, who has been already menAlbion,” in his “Lines written among the Euganean tioned in one of these letters, and who, from the trade Hills,” were also, I understand, the result of the of her husband, was known by the title of the Fornasame access of admiration and enthusiasm.
rina. A portrait of this handsome virago, drawn by In speaking of the Venetian women, in one of the Harlowe when at Venice, having fallen into the hands preceding letters, Lord Byron, it will be recollected, of one of Lord Byron's friends after the death of that remarks, that the beauty for which they were once artist, the noble poet, on being applied to for some so celebrated is no longer now to be found among the particulars of his heroine, wrote a long letter on the “Dame,” or higher orders, but all under the faz- subject, from which the following are extracts :zioli,” or kerchiefs of the lower. It was, unluckily,
“Since you desire the story of Margarita Cogni, among these latter specimens of the “ bel sangue” of you shall be told it, though it may be lengthy. Venice that he now, by a suddenness of descent in
“Her face is the fine Venetian cast of the old time; the scale of refinement, for which nothing but the her figure, though perhaps too tall, is not less fine present wayward state of his mind can account, chose and taken altogether in the national dress. to select the companions of his disengaged hours ;- “In the summer of 1817, **** and myself were and an additional proof that, in this short, daring sauntering on horseback along the Brenta one evencareer of libertinism, he was but desperately seeking ing, when, amongst a group of peasants, we remarked relief for a wronged and mortified spirit, and
two girls as the prettiest we had seen for some time. «What to us seem'd guilt might be but woe," —
About this period, there had been great distress in is that, more than once, of an evening, when his house the country, and I had a little relieved some of the has been in the possession of such visitants, he has people. Generosity makes a great figure at very been known to hurry away in his gondola, and pass
little cost in Venetian livres, and mine had probably the greater part of the night upon the water, as if been exaggerated as an Englishman's. Whether hating to return to his home. It is, indeed, certain, they remarked us looking at them or no, I know not; that to this least defensible portion of his whole life but one of them called out to me in Venetian, “Why he always looked back, during the short remainder
do not you, who relieve others, think of us also ? '
I turned round and answered her—'Cara, tu sei of it, with painful self-reproach; and among the
troppo bella e giovane per aver bisogna del soccorso
mio.' She answered, “If you saw my hut and my lighted to see me, and our first conversation of course food, you would not say so.' All this passed half consisted in the object of our visit. *** He took me in his gondola, across the Laguna, to a long, strand, sand, jestingly, and I saw no more of her for some days. which defends Venice from the Adriatic. When we dis
“A few evenings after, we met with these two girls embarked, we found his horses waiting for us, and we rode again, and they addressed us more seriously, assuring along the sands, talking. Our conversation consisted in us of the truth of their statement. They were cousins; histories of his own wounded feelings, and questions as to my affairs, with great professions of friendship and regard Margarita married, the other single. As I doubted for me. He said that if he had been in England, at the
still of the circumstances, I took the business in a time of the Chancery affair, he would have moved heaven different light, and made an appointment with them and earth to have prevented such a decision. He talked of for the next evening. literary matters,-his Fourth Canto, which he says is very good, and indeed repeated some stanzas, of great energy, to me. When we returned to his palace, which is one of In short, in a few evenings we arranged our affairs, the most magnificent in Venice, &c. &c.”
and for a long space of time she was the only one who * In the preface also to this poem, under the fictitious preserved over me an ascendancy which was often disnaine of Count Maddalo, the following just and striking puted, and never impaired. portrait of Lord Byron is drawn :"He is a person of the most consummate genius, and
“ The reasons of this were, firstly, her person ;capable, if he would direct his energies to such an end, of very dark, tall, the Venetian face, very fine black becoming the redeemer of his degraded country. But it is eyes. She was two-and-twenty years old, bis weakness to be proud: he derives, from a comparison
She of his own extraordinary mind with the dwarfish intellects that surround him, an intense apprehension of the nothing
was besides a thorough Venetian in her dialect, in ness of human life. His passions and his powers are in- her thoughts, in her countenance, in every thing, comparably greater than those of other men, and instead
with all their naïveté and pantaloon humour. Besides, of the latter having been employed in curbing the former
she could neither read nor write, and could not they have mutually lent each other strength. His ambition preys upon itself for want of objects which it can plague me with letters, -except twice that she paid consider worthy of exertion. I say that Maddalo is proud, sixpence to a public scribe, under the piazza, to because I can find no other word to express the con- make a letter for her, upon some occasion when I centered and impatient feelings which consume him; but
was ill and could not see her. In other respects, she it is on his own bopes and affections only that he seems to trample, for in social life no human being can be more
was somewhat fierce and prepotente,' that is over. gentle, patient, and unassuming than Maddalo. He is bearing, and used to walk in whenever it suited her, cheerful, frank, and witty. His more serious conversation is a sort of intoxication. He has travelled much; and there
with no very great regard to time, place, nor persons: is an inexpressible charm in his relation of his adventures
and if she found any women in her way, she knocked in different countries.”
« When I first knew her, I was in relazione ' when she saw me really angry (which they tell me is (liaison) with la Signora * *, who was silly enough a savage sight), she subsided. But she had a thouone evening at Dolo, accompanied by some of her sand fooleries. In her fazziolo, the dress of the lower female friends, to threaten her; for the gossips of the orders, she looked beautiful; but, alas! she longed Villeggiatura bad already found out, by the neighing for a hat and feathers; and all I could say or do (and of my horse one evening, that I used to ‘ride late in I said much) could not prevent this travestie. I put the night' to meet the Fornarina. Margarita threw the first into the fire ; but I got tired of burning back her veil (fazziolo), and replied in very explicit them before she did of buying them, so that she made Venetian : “ You are not his wife: I am not his herself a figure-for they did not at all become her. wife : you are his Donna, and I am his Donna : * " Then she would have her gowns with a tailyour husband is a becco, and mine is another. For like a lady, forsooth; nothing would serve her but the rest, what right have you to reproach me? If “l'abita colla coua,' or cua, (that is the Venetian he prefers me to you, is it my fault? If you wish to for “la cola,' the tail or train), and as her cursed secure bim, tie him to your petticoat-string.–But do pronunciation of the word made me laugh, there was not think to speak to me without a reply, because you an end of all controversy, and she dragged this diahappen to be richer than I am.' Having delivered bolical tail after her erery where. this pretty piece of eloquence (which I translate as it “ In the mean time, she beat the women and was related to me by a bystander), she went on her stopped my letters. I found her one day pondering way, leaving a numerous audience, with Madame **,
She used to try to find out by their shape to ponder at her leisure on the dialogue between whether they were feminine or no; and she used to them.
lament her ignorance, and actually studied her al. “When I came to Venice for the winter, she fol- phabet, on purpose (as she declared) to open all lowed; and as she found herself out to be a favourite, | letters addressed to me and read their contents. she came to me pretty often. But she had inordinate “ I must not omit to do justice to her housekeepself-love, and was not tolerant of other women. Ating qualities. After she came into my house as donna the ‘Cava!china,' the masqued ball on the last night di governo,' the expenses were redueed to less than of the Carnival, where all the world goes, she snatch- half, and every body did their duty better-the ed off the mask of Madame Contarini, a lady noble apartments were kept in order, and every thing and by birth, and decent in conduct, for no other rea- every body else, except herself. son but because she happened to be leaning on “That she had a sufficient regard for me in her my arm. You may suppose what a cursed noise wild way, I had many reasons to believe. I will this made; but this is only one of her pranks. mention one. In the autumn, one day, going to the
“At last she quarrelled with her husband, and one Lido with my gondoliers, we were overtaken by a evening ran away to my house. I told her this would heavy squall, and the gondola put in peril—hats blown not do : she said she would lie in the street, but not away, boat filling, oar lost, tumbling sea, thunder, go back to him; that he beat her, (tbe gentle tigress !) | rain in torrents, night coming, and wind unceasing. spent her money, and scandalously neglected her. As On our return, after a tight struggle, I found her on it was midnight, I let her stay, and next day, there the open steps of the Mocenigo palace, on the Grand was no moving her at all. Her husband came, roaring Canal, with her great black eyes flashing through ber and crying, and entreating her to come back:—not tears, and the long dark hair, which was streaming, she! He then applied to the police, and they applied drenched with rain, over her brows and breast. She to me: I told them and her husband to take her; I did was perfectly exposed to the storm; and the wind not want her; she had come, and I could not fling blowing her hair and dress about her thin tall figure, her out of the window; but they might conduct her and the lightning flashing round her, and the waves through that or the door if they chose it. She went rolling at her feet, made her look like Medea alighted before the commissary, but was obliged to return from her chariot, or the Sibyl of the tempest that was with that becco ettico,' as she called the poor man, rolling around her, the only living thing within haii who had a phthisic. In a few days she ran away at that moment except ourselves. On seeing me safe, again. After a precious piece of work, she fixed her- she did not wait to greet me, as might have been exself in my house, really and truly without my consent; pected, but calling out to me— Ah! can’ della Mabut, owing to my indolence, and not being able to donna, xe esto il tempo per andar al Lido? (Ah! keep my countenance-for if I began in a rage, she dog of the Virgin, is this a time to go to Lido?) ran always finished by making me laugh with some Ve into the house, and solaced herself with scolding the netian pantaloonery or another; and the gipsy knew boatmen for not foreseeing the temporale.' J am this well enough, as well as her other powers of told by the servants that she had only been prevented persuasion, and exerted them with the usual tact and from coming in a boat to look after me, by the refusal success of all she-things;-high and low, they are all of all the gondoliers of the canal to put out into the alike for that.
harbour in such a moment; and that then she sate “Madame Benzoni also took her under her protec- down on the steps in all the thickest of the squall
, tion, and then her head turned. She was always in and would neither be removed nor comforted. Her extremes, either crying or laughing, and so fierce joy at seeing me again was moderately mixed with when angered, that she was the terror of men, wo- ferocily, and gave me the idea of a tigress over her men, and children—for she had the strength of an recovered cubs. Amazon, with the temper of Medea. She was a fine “But her reign drew near a close. She became animal, but quite untameable. I was the only per- quite ungovernable some months after, and a concurson that could at all keep her in any order, and rence of coinplaints, some true, and many false—'a