out, “Keep clear of the dog!” and a few
paces farther, “Take care, or the monkey will
fly at you!” an incident recalling the old vagaries
of the menagerie at Newstead. The biographer’s
reminiscences mainly dwell on his lordship’s
changing moods and tempers and gymnastic exercises,
his terror of interviewing strangers, his imperfect
appreciation of art, his preference of fish to flesh,
his almost parsimonious economy in small matters,
mingled with allusions to his domestic calamities,
and frequent expressions of a growing distaste to
Venetian society. On leaving the city, Moore
passed a second afternoon at La Mira, had a glimpse
of Allegra, and the first intimation of the existence
of the notorious Memoirs. “A short time
after dinner Byron left the room, and returned carrying
in his hand a white leather bag. ‘Look here,’
he said, holding it up; ’this would be worth
something to Murray, though you, I dare say,
would not give sixpence for it.’ ‘What
is it?’ I asked. ’My life and adventures,’
he answered. ‘It is not a thing,’
he answered, ’that can be published during my
lifetime, but you may have it if you like. There,
do whatever you please with it.’ In taking
the bag, and thanking him most warmly, I added, ’This
will make a nice legacy for my little Tom, who shall
astonish the latter days of the nineteenth century
with it.’"[2] Shortly after, Moore for the last
time bade his friend farewell, taking with him from
Madame Guiccioli, who did the honours of the house,
an introduction to her brother, Count Gamba, at Rome.
“Theresa Guiccioli,” says Castelar, “appears
like a star on the stormy horizon of the poet’s
life.” A young Romagnese, the daughter of
a nobleman of Ravenna, of good descent but limited
means, she had been educated in a convent, and married
in her nineteenth year to a rich widower of sixty,
in early life a friend of Alfieri, and noted as the
patron of the National Theatre. This beautiful
blonde, of pleasing manners, graceful presence, and
a strong vein of sentiment, fostered by the reading
of Chateaubriand, met Byron for the first time casually
when she came in her bridal dress to one of the Albrizzi
reunions; but she was only introduced to him early
in the April of the following year, at the house of
the Countess Benzoni. “Suddenly the young
Italian found herself inspired with a passion of which
till that moment her mind could not have formed the
least idea; she had thought of love but as an amusement,
and now became its slave.” Byron, on the
other hand, gave what remained of a heart, never alienated
from her by any other mistress. Till the middle
of the month they met every day; and when the husband
took her back to Ravenna she despatched to her idol
a series of impassioned letters, declaring her resolution
to mould her life in accordance with his wishes.
Towards the end of May she had prepared her relatives
to receive Byron as a visitor. He started in answer
to the summons, writing on his way the beautiful stanzas
to the Po, beginning—