Chapter LXVI: Letter 337: To Mr. Murray

"Bologna, August 12. 1819.

"I do not know how far I may be able to reply to your letter, for I
am not very well to-day. Last night I went to the representation of
Alfieri's Mirra, the two last acts of which threw me into
convulsions. I do not mean by that word a lady's hysterics, but the
agony of reluctant tears, and the choking shudder, which I do not
often undergo for fiction. This is but the second time for any
thing under reality: the first was on seeing Kean's Sir Giles
Overreach. The worst was, that the 'Dama' in whose box I was, went
off in the same way, I really believe more from fright than any
other sympathy--at least with the players: but she has been ill,
and I have been ill, and we are all languid and pathetic this
morning, with great expenditure of sal volatile.[42] But, to return
to your letter of the 23d of July.

"You are right, Gifford is right, Crabbe is right, Hobhouse is
right--you are all right, and I am all wrong; but do, pray, let me
have that pleasure. Cut me up root and branch; quarter me in the
Quarterly; send round my 'disjecti membra poetae,' like those of
the Levite's concubine; make me, if you will, a spectacle to men
and angels; but don't ask me to alter, for I won't:--I am obstinate
and lazy--and there's the truth.

"But, nevertheless, I will answer your friend P * *, who objects to
the quick succession of fun and gravity, as if in that case the
gravity did not (in intention, at least) heighten the fun. His
metaphor is, that 'we are never scorched and drenched at the same
time.' Blessings on his experience! Ask him these questions about
'scorching and drenching.' Did he never play at cricket, or walk a
mile in hot weather? Did he never spill a dish of tea over himself
in handing the cup to his charmer, to the great shame of his
nankeen breeches? Did he never swim in the sea at noonday with the
sun in his eyes and on his head, which all the foam of ocean could
not cool? Did he never draw his foot out of too hot water,
d----ning his eyes and his valet's? Did he never tumble into a
river or lake, fishing, and sit in his wet clothes in the boat, or
on the bank, afterwards 'scorched and drenched,' like a true
sportsman? 'Oh for breath to utter!'--but make him my compliments;
he is a clever fellow for all that--a very clever fellow.

"You ask me for the plan of Donny Johnny: I _have_ no plan; I _had_
no plan; but I had or have materials; though if, like Tony Lumpkin,
'I am to be snubbed so when I am in spirits,' the poem will be
naught, and the poet turn serious again. If it don't take, I will
leave it off where it is, with all due respect to the public; but
if continued, it must be in my own way. You might as well make
Hamlet (or Diggory) 'act mad' in a strait waistcoat as trammel my
buffoonery, if I am to be a buffoon; their gestures and my thoughts
would only be pitiably absurd and ludicrously constrained. Why,
man, the soul of such writing is its licence; at least the
_liberty_ of that _licence_, if one likes--_not_ that one should
abuse it. It is like Trial by Jury and Peerage and the Habeas
Corpus--a very fine thing, but chiefly in the _reversion;_ because
no one wishes to be tried for the mere pleasure of proving his
possession of the privilege.

"But a truce with these reflections. You are too earnest and eager
about a work never intended to be serious. Do you suppose that I
could have any intention but to giggle and make giggle?--a playful
satire, with as little poetry as could be helped, was what I meant.
And as to the indecency, do, pray, read in Boswell what _Johnson_,
the sullen moralist, says of _Prior_ and Paulo Purgante.

"Will you get a favour done for me? _You_ can, by your government
friends, Croker, Canning, or my old schoolfellow Peel, and I can't.
Here it is. Will you ask them to appoint (_without salary or
emolument_) a noble Italian (whom I will name afterwards) consul or
vice-consul for Ravenna? He is a man of very large
property,--noble, too; but he wishes to have a British protection,
in case of changes. Ravenna is near the sea. He wants no
_emolument_ whatever. That his office might be useful, I know; as I
lately sent off from Ravenna to Trieste a poor devil of an English
sailor, who had remained there sick, sorry, and pennyless (having
been set ashore in 1814), from the want of any accredited agent
able or willing to help him homewards. Will you get this done? If
you do, I will then send his name and condition, subject, of
course, to rejection, if _not_ approved when known.

"I know that in the Levant you make consuls and vice-consuls,
perpetually, of foreigners. This man is a patrician, and has twelve
thousand a year. His motive is a British protection in case of new
invasions. Don't you think Croker would do it for us? To be sure,
my _interest_ is rare!! but, perhaps, a brother wit in the Tory
line might do a good turn at the request of so harmless and long
absent a Whig, particularly as there is no _salary_ or _burden_ of
any sort to be annexed to the office.

"I can assure you, I should look upon it as a great obligation;
but, alas! that very circumstance may, very probably, operate to
the contrary--indeed, it ought; but I have, at least, been an
honest and an open enemy. Amongst your many splendid government
connections, could not you, think you, get our Bibulus made a
Consul? or make me one, that I may make him my Vice. You may be
assured that, in case of accidents in Italy, he would be no feeble
adjunct--as you would think, if you knew his patrimony.

"What is all this about Tom Moore? but why do I ask? since the
state of my own affairs would not permit me to be of use to him,
though they are greatly improved since 1816, and may, with some
more luck and a little prudence, become quite clear. It seems his
claimants are _American_ merchants? _There goes Nemesis!_ Moore
abused America. It is always thus in the long run:--Time, the
Avenger. You have seen every trampler down, in turn, from
Buonaparte to the simplest individuals. You saw how some were
avenged even upon my insignificance, and how in turn * * * paid for
his atrocity. It is an odd world; but the watch has its mainspring,
after all.

"So the Prince has been repealing Lord Edward Fitzgerald's
forfeiture? _Ecco un' sonetto!_

"To be the father of the fatherless,
To stretch the hand from the throne's height, and raise
_His_ offspring, who expired in other days
To make thy sire's sway by a kingdom less,--
_This_ is to be a monarch, and repress
Envy into unutterable praise.
Dismiss thy guard, and trust thee to such traits,
For who would lift a hand, except to bless?
Were it not easy, sir, and is't not sweet
To make thyself beloved? and to be
Omnipotent by Mercy's means? for thus
Thy sovereignty would grow but more complete,
A despot thou, and yet thy people free,
And by the heart, not hand, enslaving us.

"There, you dogs! there's a sonnet for you: you won't have such as
that in a hurry from Mr. Fitzgerald. You may publish it with my
name, an' ye wool. He deserves all praise, bad and good; it was a
very noble piece of principality. Would you like an epigram--a
translation?

"If for silver, or for gold,
You could melt ten thousand pimples
Into half a dozen dimples,
Then your face we might behold,
Looking, doubtless, much more snugly,
Yet ev'n _then_ 'twould be d----d _ugly_.

"This was written on some Frenchwoman, by Rulhieres, I believe.
Yours."

[Footnote 42: The "Dama," in whose company he witnessed this representation, thus describes its effect upon him:--"The play was that of Mirra; the actors, and particularly the actress who performed the part of Mirra, seconded with much success the intentions of our great dramatist. Lord Byron took a strong interest in the representation, and it was evident that he was deeply affected. At length there came a point of the performance at which he could no longer restrain his emotions;--he burst into a flood of tears, and, his sobs preventing him from remaining any longer in the box, he rose and left the theatre.--I saw him similarly affected another time during a representation of Alfieri's 'Philip,' at Ravenna."--"Gli attori, e specialmente l' attrice che rappresentava Mirra secondava assai bene la mente del nostro grande tragico. L.B. prece molto interesse alla rappresentazione, e si conosceva che era molto commosso. Venne un punto poi della tragedia in cui non pote piu frenare la sua emozione,--diede in un diretto pianto e i singhiozzi gl' impedirono di piu restare nel palco; onde si levo, e parti dal teatro. In uno stato simile lo viddi un altra volta a Ravenna ad una rappresentazione del Filippo d'Alfieri."]

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