Letters and Journals of Lord Byron
Lord Byron to Thomas Moore, 17 November 1816
“Venice, November 17th, 1816.
“I wrote to you from Verona the other day in my progress
hither, which letter I hope you will receive. Some three years ago, or it may be more, I
recollect your telling me that you had received a letter from our friend Sam, dated ‘On board his gondola.’ My gondola is, at this present, waiting for me on the canal; but I
prefer writing to you in the house, it being autumn—and rather an English autumn than
otherwise. It is my intention to remain at Venice during the winter, probably, as it has
always been (next to the East) the greenest island of my imagination. It has not
disappointed me; though its evident decay would, perhaps, ![]()
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have that effect upon others. But I have been familiar with ruins too long to dislike
desolation. Besides, I have fallen in love, which, next to falling into the canal (which
would be of no use, as I can swim), is the best or the worst thing I could do. I have
got some extremely good apartments in the house of a ‘Merchant of Venice,’
who is a good deal occupied with business, and has a wife in her twenty-second year.
Marianna (that is her name) is in her
appearance altogether like an antelope. She has the large, black, oriental eyes, with
that peculiar expression in them which is seen rarely among Europeans—even the Italians—and which many of the Turkish women give themselves
by tinging the eyelid,—an art not known out of that country, I believe. This expression
she has naturally,—and something more than this. In short, I
cannot describe the effect of this kind of eye,—at least upon me. Her features are
regular, and rather aquiline—mouth small—skin clear and soft, with a kind of hectic
colour—forehead remarkably good: her hair is of the dark gloss, curl, and colour of
Lady J * *’s: her figure is light
and pretty, and she is a famous songstress—scientifically so: her natural voice (in
conversation, I mean,) is very sweet; and the naïveté of the Venetian dialect is always
pleasing in the mouth of a woman.
“November 23.
“You will perceive that my description, which was proceeding
with the minuteness of a passport, has been interrupted for several days. In the mean
time * * * * * *
*
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
“December 5.
“Since my former dates, I do not know that I have much to
add on the subject, and, luckily, nothing to take away; for I am more pleased than ever
with my Venetian, and begin to feel very serious on that point—so much so, that I shall
be silent.
* * * * * *
“By way of divertisement, I am studying daily, at an
Armenian monastery, the Armenian language. I found that my mind wanted ![]()
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something craggy to break upon; and this—as the most
difficult thing I could discover here for an amusement—I have chosen, to torture me into
attention. It is a rich language, however, and would amply repay any one the trouble of
learning it. I try, and shall go on;—but I answer for nothing, least of all for my
intentions or my success. There are some very curious MSS. in the monastery, as well as
books; translations also from Greek originals, now lost, and from Persian and Syriac,
&c.; besides works of their own people. Four years ago the French instituted an
Armenian professorship. Twenty pupils presented themselves on Monday morning, full of
noble ardour, ingenuous youth, and impregnable industry. They persevered, with a courage
worthy of the nation and of universal conquest, till Thursday; when fifteen of the twenty succumbed to the six-and-twentieth letter of the
alphabet. It is, to be sure, a Waterloo of an Alphabet—that must be said for them. But
it is so like these fellows, to do by it as they did by their sovereigns—abandon both;
to parody the old rhymes, ‘Take a thing and give a thing’—‘Take a King
and give a King.’ They are the worst of animals, except their conquerors.
“I hear that H—n is
your neighbour, having a living in Derbyshire. You will find him an excellent-hearted
fellow, as well as one of the cleverest; a little, perhaps, too much japanned by
preferment in the church and the tuition of youth, as well as inoculated with the
disease of domestic felicity, besides being overrun with fine feelings about woman and
constancy (that small change of Love, which people exact so rigidly, receive in such
counterfeit coin, and repay in baser metal); but, otherwise, a very worthy man, who has
lately got a pretty wife, and (I suppose) a child by this time. Pray remember me to him,
and say that I know not which to envy most—his neighbourhood, him, or you.
“Of Venice I shall say little. You must have seen many
descriptions; and they are most of them like. It is a poetical place; and classical, to
us, from Shakspeare and Otway. I have not yet sinned against it in verse, nor do
I know that I shall do so, having been tuneless since I crossed the Alps, and feeling,
as yet, no renewal of the ‘estro.’ By the way, I suppose
you have seen ‘Glenarvon.’ Madame de Staël lent it
me to read from Copet last autumn. It seems to me that, if the authoress had written the
truth, and nothing but the truth—the whole truth—the ![]()
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romance would not only have been more romantic, but more
entertaining. As for the likeness, the picture can’t be good—I did not sit long
enough. When you have leisure, let me hear from and of you, believing me ever and truly
yours most affectionately,
“B.
“P.S. Oh! your Poem—is it out? I
hope Longman has paid his thousands: but
don’t you do as H * *
T * *’s
father did, who, having made money by a quarto
tour, became a vinegar merchant; when, lo! his vinegar turned sweet (and be d—d to
it) and ruined him. My last letter to you (from Verona) was enclosed to Murray—have you got it? Direct to me here, poste restante. There are no English
here at present. There were several in Switzerland—some women; but, except Lady Dalrymple Hamilton, most of them as ugly as
virtue—at least, those that I saw.”
Francis Hodgson (1781-1852)
Provost of Eton College, translator of Juvenal (1807) and close friend of Byron. He wrote
for the
Monthly and
Critical Reviews, and was
author of (among other volumes of poetry)
Childe Harold's Monitor; or
Lines occasioned by the last Canto of Childe Harold (1818).
Thomas Norton Longman (1771-1842)
A leading London publisher whose authors included Southey, Wordsworth, Scott, and
Moore.
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
Irish poet and biographer, author of the
Irish Melodies (1807-34),
The Fudge Family in Paris (1818), and
Lalla
Rookh (1817); he was Byron's close friend and designated biographer.
John Murray II (1778-1843)
The second John Murray began the
Quarterly Review in 1809 and
published works by Scott, Byron, Austen, Crabbe, and other literary notables.
Thomas Otway (1652-1685)
English tragic poet; author of
The Orphan (1680) and
Venice Preserved (1682).
Samuel Rogers (1763-1855)
English poet, banker, and aesthete, author of the ever-popular
Pleasures of Memory (1792),
Columbus (1810),
Jaqueline (1814), and
Italy (1822-28).
Marianna Segati (1816 fl.)
Byron's first mistress in Venice, the wife of his landlord, a draper near the Piazza San
Marco.
Germaine de Staël (1766-1817)
French woman of letters; author of the novel
Corinne, ou L'Italie
(1807) and
De l'Allemagne (1811); banned from Paris by Napoleon, she
spent her later years living in Germany, Britain, and Switzerland.
Horace Twiss (1787-1849)
Lawyer, poet, and biographer; he was MP for Wootton Basset (1820-30) and Newport
(1830-31) and author of
St Stephens Chapel: a Satirical Poem
(1807).
Richard Twiss (1747-1821)
English traveler and FRS; he was the brother of the Shakespeare scholar Francis Twiss
(1759-1827) and uncle of the minor poet Horace Twiss (1787-1849). He published of
Travels through Portugal and Spain in 1772 and 1773 (1775) and other
works.
