“Mist—thaw—slop—rain. No stirring out on horseback. Read Spence’s Anecdotes. Pope a fine fellow—always thought him so. Corrected blunders in nine apophthegms of Bacon—all historical—and read Mitford’s Greece. Wrote an epigram. Turned to a passage in Guinguené—ditto, in Lord Holland’s Lope de Vega. Wrote a note on Don Juan.
“At eight went out to visit. Heard a little music—like music.
Talked with Count Pietro G. of the Italian
comedian Vestris, who is now at Rome—have seen
him often act in Venice—a good actor—very. Somewhat of a mannerist; but excellent in
broad comedy, as well as in the sentimental pathetic. He has made me frequently laugh
| A. D. 1821. | LIFE OF LORD BYRON. | 399 |
“Thought of the state of women under the ancient Greeks—convenient enough. Present state, a remnant of the barbarism of the chivalry and feudal ages—artificial and unnatural. They ought to mind home—and be well fed and clothed—but not mixed in society. Well educated, too, in religion—but to read neither poetry nor politics—nothing but books of piety and cookery. Music—drawing—dancing—also a little gardening and ploughing now and then. I have seen them mending the roads in Epirus with good success. Why not, as well as hay-making and milking?
“Came home, and read Mitford again, and played with my mastiff—gave him his supper. Made another reading to the epigram, but the turn the same. To-night at the theatre, there being a prince on his throne in the last scene of the comedy,—the audience laughed, and asked him for a Constitution. This shows the state of the public mind here as well as the assassinations. It won’t do. There must be an universal republic,—and there ought to be.
The crow is lame of a leg—wonder how it happened—some fool trod upon his toe, I suppose. The falcon pretty brisk—the cats large and noisy—the monkeys I have not looked to since the cold weather, as they suffer by being brought up. Horses must be gay—get a ride as soon as weather serves. Deuced muggy still—an Italian winter is a sad thing, but all the other seasons are charming.
“What is the reason that I have been, all my lifetime, more or less ennuyé? and that, if any thing, I am rather less so now than I was at twenty, as far as my recollection serves? I do not know how to answer this, but presume that it is constitutional,—as well as the waking in low spirits, which I have invariably done for many years. Temperance and exercise, which I have practised at times, and for a long time together vigorously and violently, made little or no difference. Violent passions did;—when under their immediate influence—it is odd, but—I was in agitated, but not in depressed spirits.
“A dose of salts has the effect of a temporary inebriation,
like light champagne, upon me. But wine and spirits make me sullen and savage
| 400 | NOTICES OF THE | A. D. 1821. |
