The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals
Chapter 75 : "But ne'er magician's wand Wrought change, with all Armida's fairy

"But ne'er magician's wand Wrought change, with all Armida's fairy art, Like what this light touch left on Juan's heart."

In the Catalogue of Byron's books, sold April 5, 1816, appear four editions of Ta.s.so's 'Gerusalemme Liberata', being those of 1776, 1785, 1813, and one undated.]

[Footnote 2: For George Annesley, Lord Valentia, afterwards Earl of Mountnorris (1769-1844), see 'Poems', ed. 1898, vol. i. p. 378, and 'note 5'.]

[Footnote 3: Near Wimborne, Dorset.]

[Footnote 4: The suit of 'Dalrymple' v. 'Dalrymple' was tried before Sir William Scott, in the Consistory Court, Doctors' Commons, July 16, 1811.

The suit was brought by Mrs. Dalrymple ('nee' Joanna Gordon) against Captain John William Henry Dalrymple. By Scottish law he was held to have been married to Miss Gordon, and his subsequent marriage with Miss Manners, sister of the d.u.c.h.ess of St. Albans, was held to be illegal.]

196.--To R.C. Dallas.

Newstead Abbey, October 10th, 1811.

DEAR SIR,--Stanzas 24, 26, 29, [1] though _crossed_ must _stand_, with their _alterations_. The other three [2] are cut out to meet your wishes. We must, however, have a repet.i.tion of the proof, which is the first. I will write soon.

Yours ever,

B.

P.S.--Yesterday I returned from Lancs.

[Footnote 1: The stanzas are xxiv., xxv., xxvi. of Canto I.]

[Footnote 2: The following are the three deleted stanzas:

XXV.

"In golden characters, right well designed, First on the list appeareth one 'Junot;'

Then certain other glorious names we find; (Which rhyme compelleth me to place below--) Dull victors! baffled by a vanquished foe, Wheedled by conynge tongues of laurels due, Stand, worthy of each other, in a row Sirs Arthur, Harry, and the dizzard Hew Dalrymple, seely wight, sore dupe of 'tother tew."

XXVII.

"But when Convention sent his handy work, Pens, tongues, feet, hands, combined in wild uproar; Mayor, Alderman, laid down th' uplifted fork; The bench of Bishops half forgot to snore; Stern Cobbett, who for one whole week forbore To question aught, once more with transport leapt, And bit his dev'lish quill agen, and swore With foe such treaty never should be kept.

Then burst the blatant beast, and roared and raged and--slept!!!"

XXVIII.

"Thus unto heaven appealed the people; heaven, Which loves the lieges of our gracious King, Decreed that ere our generals were forgiven, Inquiry should be held about the thing.

But mercy cloaked the babes beneath her wing; And as they spared our foes so spared we them.

(Where was the pity of our sires for Byng?) Yet knaves, not idiots, should the law condemn.

Then live ye, triumph gallants! and bless your judges' phlegm."]

197.--To R.C. Dallas.

Newstead Abbey, Oct. 11, 1811.

I have returned from Lancas.h.i.+re, and ascertained that my property there may be made very valuable, but various circ.u.mstances very much circ.u.mscribe my exertions at present. I shall be in town on business in the beginning of November, and perhaps at Cambridge before the end of this month; but of my movements you shall be regularly apprised. Your objections I have in part done away by alterations, which I hope will suffice; and I have sent two or three additional stanzas for both _"Fyttes."_ I have been again shocked with a _death_, and have lost one very dear to me in happier times [1]; but "I have almost forgot the taste of grief," and "supped full of horrors" [2] till I have become callous, nor have I a tear left for an event which, five years ago, would have bowed down my head to the earth. It seems as though I were to experience in my youth the greatest misery of age. My friends fall around me, and I shall be left a lonely tree before I am withered. Other men can always take refuge in their families; I have no resource but my own reflections, and they present no prospect here or hereafter, except the selfish satisfaction of surviving my betters. I am indeed very wretched, and you will excuse my saying so, as you know I am not apt to cant of sensibility.

Instead of tiring yourself with _my_ concerns, I should be glad to hear _your_ plans of retirement. I suppose you would not like to be wholly shut out of society? Now I know a large village, or small town, about twelve miles off, where your family would have the advantage of very genteel society, without the hazard of being annoyed by mercantile affluence; where _you_ would meet with men of information and independence; and where I have friends to whom I should be proud to introduce you. There are, besides, a coffee-room, a.s.semblies, etc., etc., which bring people together. My mother had a house there some years, and I am well acquainted with the economy of Southwell, the name of this little commonwealth. Lastly, you will not be very remote from me; and though I am the very worst companion for young people in the world, this objection would not apply to _you_, whom I could see frequently. Your expenses, too, would be such as best suit your inclinations, more or less, as you thought proper; but very little would be requisite to enable you to enter into all the gaieties of a country life. You could be as quiet or bustling as you liked, and certainly as well situated as on the lakes of c.u.mberland, unless you have a particular wish to be _picturesque_.

Pray, is your Ionian friend in town? You have promised me an introduction. You mention having consulted some friend on the MSS. Is not this contrary to our usual way? Instruct Mr. Murray not to allow his shopman to call the work _Child of Harrow's Pilgrimage_!!!!! [3] as he has done to some of my astonished friends, who wrote to inquire after my _sanity_ on the occasion, as well they might. I have heard nothing of Murray, whom I scolded heartily. Must I write more notes? Are there not enough? Cawthorn must be kept back with the _Hints_. I hope he is getting on with Hobhouse's quarto. Good evening.

Yours ever, etc.

[Footnote 1: The reference is to Edleston (see 'Letters', vol. i. p.

130, note 3 [Footnote 2 of Letter 74]), of whose death Miss Edleston had recently sent Byron an account.]

[Footnote 2:

"I have almost forgot the taste of fears: ...

I have supp'd full with horrors."