Venice (edited from B.L.Add.Mss. 47234)

[In the notes, “J.W.” indicates assistance from Jack Wasserman, to whom I’m most grateful.]

Thursday July 31st 1817

A letter from Byron.1  I get up breakfast and pay thirty soldi at a coffee house here for what I had paid ten at Ferrara.  I told the waiter so, and the rascal only said “You are at Padua, not Ferrara now”.  I got my watch mended and going through the Piazza delle Arbe I saw a charlatan in an open carriage spreading out his boxes2 under the shade of an umbrella held by a ragged fellow.  The man was well dressed, but I can’t think how he had the impudence to appear in a carriage where horses are such a luxury.

I set out at nine, changed horses at Dolo, and arrived at Mira and Byron’s house on the Brenta by half-past eleven.  I saw my friend well and in spirits.  Mr Matthew Lewis was in the house with him,3 and part of the house was occupied by Signora Zagati4 of Venice, the drapier’s lady who, in a country where women gain character by having a cavalier servente5 of rank, has risen since she has been companion in ordinary to Byron.  It is amusing to hear her talk about cattive donne6 with the greatest simplicity.  Signor Pietro, her husband, visits her on a Saturday and Sunday and attends another lady.

I saw a singular character today – a Mexican Marquis who knew Voltaire and of whom more anon – he is in fact ninety,7 and is come to die on the Brenta.8  Byron took me with him to the house of a physician where I am to have a bed – his four daughters and wife chatted with him9 and asked fondly after Marianne Madame Zagati, whose child is with them.  This is singular state, for they seem modest though lively poor things – they sweep the house &c., and yet are reckoned good company enough for any of the high as well as low who now crowd to the Brenta, and make quite a watering place of it.  We dined at four.  Lewis told us an excellent story of the late Sir G. Webster at Inverary.10

Byron and he rode out after dinner – I walked out and struck into the country – ride in canal – came back – supped with Byron.  The blacks call Xtianity White Oby and think it more efficacious than Black Oby.  Lewis christened a great many himself.11

Went home and had a wretched night.  I am close to the house where Henry of Valois III France12 slept (as is recorded, in a letter) on his way from Poland where he was greeted it is said by almost the whole of Italy.

Friday August 1st 1817

Up late – read The Black Dwarf13 last night in bed; I hate the Scotch and the affectation of old country language, although both may be very true to nature for aught I know, and to fact.  Breakfasted at a coffee house – the peasants come in for a drink of water with a little aniseed <and spir> in it for a centesimo or so.  Sat at home writing journal until half past two – boiling weather – dined with Byron.  He and Lewis rode in the evening and I walked in – No, I rode and went to bed – <after supper and> after going to a party at a Jew’s house.

Saturday August 2nd 1817

After breakfast went at twelve to a circumcision14 to which all the ladies and gentlemen were invited and at which indeed I saw all the party of last night, which I understood to consist of the shattered remains of Venetian nobility, now spread upon the banks of the Brenta and mixed and lost amidst the Jews and merchants who have purchased the better villas of this once patrician retreat.  The Jewish lady last night was sitting up in bed with her child beside her under a muslin canopy.  The room was set round with the female part of the company, amongst whom were my young Misses of the lodgings, who in the morning sweep my rooms and appear to me not unwilling to do other little odd jobs when occasion should occur.  Jews and Christians seemed to mix with perfect freedom and as I understand in the liaisons between the sexes there is a mutual interchange of good offices between the two religions.  I believe that the lady was dressed out in her bed as before today.  All the women were with her except two or three who I suppose were of the family and came into the operation room.  But there was not a girl there who did not know what the child was to lose, and more than one joked about the ceremony in my hearing.  A lady said to me, “You need not always go to the priest to have that service performed for you – the surgeon does as well”.  In short, the society here seems upon the most liberal and extraordinary footing.  Madame Zagati is amongst the most genteel and best received, and the young men, who are seen at pothouse doors in the morning in their shirt sleeves, are the beaux of the evening.

I went to the circumcision room – the rabbins were not to be known by their dress, nor did I make out that any ceremony had commenced, when two men in plain clothes sat down next to each other and sung recitative out of two little books, talking to each other and the company at intervals.  Presently two enormously stout fellows threw strips of silk over their shoulders, and one, sitting down in a chair, put three or four pillows on his knees.  The instruments were in a dish prepared – a sort of thin prong to hold the prepuce over the glass and prevent the latter from being cut, a sharp thin knife, a pair of scissors and a lancet, together with some balsam and a rag.  The poor little red child, only eight days old, was brought in – the singing continued between the two who now stood up and approached the man with the pillows – the infant being stripped below was then laid on the pillows – the rabbins stood by and sung – the operator in half minute threw the prepuce, a considerable piece of flesh, in the plate, and I saw the infant covered with the blood.  He screamed violently – the operator then ran his thumbnail violently round between the teguments of the [  ]ended rim of the flesh and sucked the parts.  Owing to some mistake, the wine with which he was to wash his mouth was not ready, and was at last given to him in some confusion by the rabbins, who still continued their mummery and recitative, the child screaming and the father crying in the corner.

A Jew told Lewis that the fault of the family was troppo di sensibilità15 – the operator then powdered the wounded part and then covered it with a balsamed rag and powdered it again – then bandaged it up raw and bloody and delivered the child to a nurse.  The singing ceased, and the men pulled off their silk and the ceremony was declared over.

The foreskin was carefully preserved in a bottle, and became the trophy of the operator who I understood had 800 such, and would bury them with him.  Lewis, however, supposed that the prepuce is buried with its original owner.  We made enquiries, and found that any man may operate who has served an apprenticeship and has suffered his thumbnail to grow to a proper length.  I was shown a thumbnail then in a state of pupillage for the purpose: long, dirty.

This is a brutal ceremony – lasts longer than I thought and is more bloody – and I should think, painful.  It is the height of indecency to ask women to assist at it.  My young ladies, the doctor’s daughters, told me that the moment the child was taken out of the room – on a signal given, all the women cried, or seemed to cry, and continued until the young Jew was brought back.  The name is given on this occasion.  The conversazione lasted for some time – afterwards cakes and chocolate and water dashed with aniseed were handed round and the ladies and gentlemen began again to mix and to make merry upon the morning’s exploit.  I came home and read a little, dined, walked out by myself in the evening – supped at Byron’s – read Tales of my Landlord at night.

Sunday August 3rd 1817

This morning the new parocco16 of a church on the other side of the Brenta came to take possession of his Chiesa.17  A temporary bridge was thrown across the river, and about eleven o’clock, a car carved with a canopy drawn by four post-horses with postillions in caps and feathers, and filled with fiddles and horn and flute blowers, passed <down> up the road, followed by open carriages, chiefly, little [  ] in a great number.  The parocco himself was not to be distinguished, but I was told he was in an open caratella with three other parsons.  The procession crossed the river and went fiddling down the other side of the Brenta until it reached the church.  I heard discharges of little mortars, which I also understood came from the church, and made part of the armoury – The parocco of the Mira sent Madame Zagati a present of figs.18  This to a woman living in open adultery is too bad, even I think.  I saw him in friendly converse with the chief rabbi at the circumcision.  I hear today that the presidents of the judicial tribunals here and at Venice are Germans, and that the causes are tried in Italian!!!19 The Austrian minister or secretary here, De Tourne or some such name,20 is abominated – he has accepted of an Italian lady’s villa here for two years gratis – comes and goes when he pleases and has obliged the owner to hire another villa for herself.

Finish Tales of my Landlord – the great objection to Old Mortality21 is that Edith is too old for a bride at the end of the book – they are very captivating however.  Dined with Byron as usual.  Madame Sagati there.  Walked in the evening and went to the coffee house or as they call it the bottega, where all the Mira was assembled, on wooden chairs in rows, and looked very much what I suppose the company at our watering places appear.  I saw a Pisani22 there, and talked with one who had been high under the old republic.  Amongst the other fashions here it seems that a person who has acquaintanceship or relationship may and [does] give warning to a friend in villegiatura23 that he or she designs them a month’s visit.  I saw an instance of it tonight – and the lady was a fine unmarried girl.  I talked to a cousin of Barras24 tonight – a Frenchman who had been much about the Imperial French court – he does not seem much.  She told a young man, who told me, that her daughter, a fine girl of fourteen, although she had every appearance of woman, was not one yet, not having her courses – well done.

Cards were played this evening, which together with taking lemonade and coffee and aniseed made up the entertainment.  I went home at half-past eleven – read account of loss of the Wager by Commodore Byron25 – there is really some pen.  Strange enough in the relation, Byron was tempted by some shirts to marry a girl whose father proposed the match.26  Captain Cheap and the Spanish governor talked Latin – badly enough, says Byron.27  I swear – there are some fine observations on the selfishness of distress.  I sent a letter to dear Sophy tonight by Zagati to Venice.

Monday August 4th 1817

Not well this morning, up late.  Lounged about the fields of high thick maize and vines strung on poplar trees, reading Shipwrecks28 – dined – rode out.  Lewis talked to me of the ingratitude he had found from everybody.  Even his own brother-in-law, Sir H. Lushington29 at Naples, who owed so much to him, forgot to get him a lodging and basely went to a party of pleasure on shipboard the day he arrived.  He never would ask Lord Holland, he said, for anything.  I’m sure I would not – but Byron explained this to me – Lewis did once ask Lord Holland, if he went to Paris as Ambassador, to take him as secretary.  Holland told Lewis, “Oh yes, and you shall make a meldodrame of it”.  Lewis is a funny man – is always talking about bores and is the chief of that sect.30  He seems however to have some merit, though not equal to what he stands author to.  He told me he had learnt German at Weimar31 – where Wieland and Goethe were very civil to him, a boy of seventeen, and had made him translate their songs into English.  He told me a capital ghost story which he had from the lady who saw the apparition.  He himself has heard a ghost.

Tuesday August 5th 1817

I read Manuel, Mathurin’s new tragedy,32 which was damned and deserves it – such ranting – such bloody unnatural inadequate work.  The epilogue, to which being a grinder of that sort of thing,33 I may speak of, is detestable, and, I think, written by George Lamb.34  I breakfasted five mornings for two franks and less – wrote journal a little this morning – walked out – dined – and passed the evening strolling about on horseback, with Byron, and making assignations.

Wednesday August 6th 1817

Got up at six – went in Byron’s carriage to Fuscina, and thence in a boat to Venice, where I called on Siri and Wilhalm.35  Ordered a pair of w boots.  Left my watch to be mended, and enquired for opportunities to go to the Levant – found a Russian vessel had sailed last week – and that a cordon of troops had been drawn along the frontiers of Dalmatia on account of three sailors having escaped from a suspected ship36 into that province – so that I shall not be able to go by land through Dalmatia to my destination.  I put Doctor Sartorius37 to enquire of the governor or secretary here, De Torr,38 as to the route by Rostanizza to Traunik.39  The answer received was that he could by no means advise that journey, or indeed any other way than going round by Vienna or by sea.  This determined me to wait for a ship either here at Venice or at Trieste.

I was not struck by anything at Venice today except the white veils and black eyes and fine skins of the women.  I found that someone, I believe Mr Clifford,40 had been enquiring for an ossified skull which I had bought at the Gran Bretagna – the skull is there but41 I never bought it, and I trust I never told him that I had.

I came back to the Mira – dined with Byron – walked in the fields in the evening and afterwards had a singular adventure with a lady who called herself a puta42 and who astonished me as much by her information as Theresa surprised Rousseau43 – after what I had seen and heard in this part of Italy I thought such a thing impossible – especially as my lady had walked two miles to the appointment.

Madame Zagati tells me that Cavalieri Serventi are often provided for in the marriage contract with nobles, and that the higher class may change these cavaliers often as they like – whilst those of her seto44 cannot have more than one except after a reasonable lapse.  Lewis told that Torlonia’s daughter,45 when she married, had her cavalier mentioned in the contract which was to be hers come se fosse nata nobile.46  Madame Zagati added that the cavaliers were often taken immediately after marriage, so that no man can be sure even of his wife’s first-born.  She told me, what I have noted before in my last visit to Venice, that the education of the higher classes was, before the French came, almost nothing – the women could positively hardly ever write, nor play, nor dance, nor do anything but embroider perhaps a little and sing the psalter – accomplishments which they learnt in the convents where they were kept until they were taken out to be married at sixteen.  The men were nearly as ignorant – learnt no languages – could scarcely write or even dance – and were ashamed to be thought fond of reading.  The merchants, advocates, and physicians had all the human learning which Venice possessed – at present the French have given a new turn – the nobility are sometimes well-educated: the daughters of great families are taught accomplishments, and to write and read and know French is not uncommon amongst them – the men are ashamed to be thought quite ignorant – and the priesthood47 assist in reforming the methods of public and private instruction.  Yet Venice itself is falling fast to decay.  The natives of this country must not hope to establish a separate independence even by all these improvements, but to qualify themselves for being the enlightened citizens of a much larger community in times when perhaps they may be proud to lose all individual distinctions in the name and character of Italians!!  The French repaired, it may be said made, the fine road from Padua to Venice.  The old republic never thought of its roads – it was a very paternal, mild government, but encouraged neither education nor communication between its states – nor any amelioration of a permanent nature.  As for politics, nobody presumed to say a word on the matter – they had a proverb, Non conviene d’embarassarsi del governo.48

Thursday August 7th 1817

Passed this morning in copying out Francesca da Rimini49 – dined – rode in the evening – read Richelieu’s memoirs50 – heard some stories of Lewis’s.

Sheridan was to make a motion in the Commons one day, and Lord Holland in the Peers on the next on the same subject.  Lord Holland had a letter which he meant to make the ground of his speech.  He called on Sheridan the day of Sheridan’s motion – he found him in bed ill, and saying he should not go down to the house and should not make his motion that day.  Lord Holland read his letter to him – Sheridan asked leave to have it, to copy some figures in it.  Lord Holland complied, and going afterwards at six o’clock to the House of Commons, Sheridan gave him the letter and thanked him.  Shortly after, Sheridan got up to make his motion, and to the surprise of Lord Holland, and Lewis who was sitting by him, spoke Lord Holland’s letter nearly word for word.  Lord Holland was in great consternation at having lost the materials for his next day’s speech – meeting Sheridan in the lobby, he upbraided him – “Aye,” said Sheridan, “I have such a good memory”.

Lewis recollects when balloons were in fashion hearing a man in Hanover Square crying “Balloon oysters!”

Lady Charleville51 came to a representation of Comus52 at Lady Cork’s,53 to act a bacchanal.  She was a cripple and had twined her crutches with ivy!!  Tom Moore observed it with horror to Lewis.  Tom Moore had a cold.  Lady Charleville was afraid it might hurt his voice, and insisted on putting a burgundy pitch plaster54 on him.  This made a scene which Lewis described well.  Lewis told that Crabbe the poet, when Fox was minister with Lord North, sent his poem55 to him in which was a compliment to Fox.  Fox was asked to get him preferment.  Crabbe thought he had waited too long and sent him a letter in which he begged Mr Fox to recollect his promise, and also to know that the same pen which had made his panegyric could also write satire.  Fox took no notice of this, got Crabbe the preferment, and then wrote to tell him of the thing being done and begging to hear no more of him.  However, when Fox was minister in 1805,56 Crabbe sent him another Ms. poem and it was the last thing Fox read.

Lewis is more fond of contradiction than any man I ever knew – he is the completest egoist in the world – and at the same time as he speaks of his contempt of all the world, shows how much he is in the power of any man who chooses to say an ill-natured thing.  He seems however to be a man of principle and attached to the truth, which he tells in as many tiresome details as any man living.

Friday August 8th 1817

Copying Francesca – dine with Byron – bed, and Richelieu.

Saturday August 9th 1817

Copying and finished Francesca – dinner – walk in the fields.  Hear some of Lewis’s stories – find that Byron has given him a sort of document by which he asserts that if Lady Byron’s counsellors say that their lips are sealed – the sealing has not been his – he wishes them to speak and has always wished it – and repeats that he did not insist on Lady Byron’s trying her case and complaint before the public.  I disapprove of this document because it will gratify Lady Byron’s friends to think that Byron is annoyed and because I should think no-one can suppose that Lady Byron’s counsellors meant that their lips were sealed on Lord Byron’s account or at his desire, but merely because they were her counsellors in a private and delicate affair.

I intended to show Lewis Francesca da Rimini – <but> he was occupied with reading Byron’s Fourth Canto of Childe Harold57 which he has just finished and of which he has repeated the first stanza to me – very good indeed.58

Sunday August 10th 1817

Up late.  At the coffee house this morning, I hear that when the government found work for the poor last year they were so weak from bad food, of wild lentils &c., that they could not work.  I wrote a letter to Henry, and then journal.  Walk about.  Dine with Byron as usual, having just heard a dottrina59 at the parish church where the priest was preaching, walking up and down amongst the schools.  I heard him say that the Jews and Hebrews and Lutherans and Turks and Pagans who had been good in this world would serve in the next as a rimprovero60 to the Christians who had been wicked – a strange compound of sense and ignorance, of bigotry and illiberality.  In the country the religion seems to be much on the same footing as in England: the church is open every day until twelve, but is not frequented except on Sundays and holidays only, and I observe no priests but those of the parish – no monks, nor many oratories by the roadside.  I rode out after dinner, and went then to the bottega, where I sat apart and heard nothing.

Monday August 11th 1817

Read a little this morning – dined and passed evening as usual – a life a little too epicurean, for I go to bed at eleven, and get up at ten, reading a little of Richelieu, which I should like better were it not written so evidently to abet a particular set of principales, all true enough, but still too systematic, to be seen in every page of a true history.  The memoirs were compiled from Richelieu’s papers and written in his name.  In order to keep up the illusion, the words “In the last years of my life” are too often introduced.61  Richelieu seems to have believed in the political testament of the cardinal, which Voltaire laughs at so frequently.62  It is extraordinary how similar the exigencies of France seem to have been to our own at this moment – the familles ministerielles are denounced as the chief causes of the ruin of the monarchy – see the anecdote of Lavrillière and Aguesseau, the only honest minister of the Regent.63  The author has given a very strong picture of the real power acquired by the Kings of England which have made the house of Brunswick64 as despotic as any other sovereigns and all by the power of corruption.  The end of the paper system is foretold.65

Tuesday August 12th 1817

Went with Byron to Venice and passed the morning at the Apollo Library, looking at Serassi’s life of Tasso.66  Ordered two copies of my Travels67 and three of my Paris Letters from Cawthorne, to be sent by the Apollo correspondent to Venice.  Got my boots well made for eight francs (a napoleon d’or worth 41 or 41½ Venetian lire).  A rascal watchmaker asked twenty-four lire for putting the balance of my watch straight – I made him take eleven.

Zagati tells me that a rascal was to have been hanged between the pillars of St Mark’s piazzetta – he cut off a girl’s head to get at a couple of sequins worth of gold folded in her hair and then ran out of the house with the head in a handkerchief to save time.  He chanced to come across a sportsman who had wounded a hare, and whose dog, looking for the game and smelling the blood, jumped at the handkerchief.  The sportsman came up and demanded his hare – the man swore he had it not – the other put his fowling piece to the fellow’s head and declared he would have the animal, which he knew was in the linen – otherwise he would blow out the thief’s brains.  In fine the murderer, trembling and aghast, unrolled the handkerchief, and the head dropped on the ground – the sportsman seized him – and he confessed his crime and was to have been hanged this day, but the military have [declared] the execution shall not take place in their parade ground but in another square – so the villain has a respite.

We dined at our old friend the Pellegrino and had our choice of Cyprus or of Samos68 wine for four francs a head.  Came home with a delicious breeze on the water – supped and went to bed.

Wednesday August 13th 1817

Breakfast as usual at the bottega.  Made a note on Tasso’s will and imprisonment for Byron’s fourth canto of Childe Harold.69  Dined – rode in the evening – read a little of Middleton’s Life of Cicero70 – his preface to Lord Hervey71 seems half bold and half servile.  He says, truly, that no modern can hope to be compared to Cicero.  The life of this great man is consoling for those who did not begin public life until late.72  He was not introduced into the forum until twenty-six.  He did not travel until twenty-eight.73  He could not be a senator until he passed the <Ædileship> quaestorship,74 and this he did not do until he was past thirty.  In fine he was not consul until the usual age which appears to have been forty-three, nor had he a son until that age.  I am more delighted than ever with this book, although perhaps it is a little heavily written and has some strange quaintness about it, especially the applying modern technical designations such as “clerk” to the ancient officers of Rome.75

Thursday August 14th 1817

Wrote a little this morning about Tasso, after reading what Tiraboschi76 says on his imprisonment by Alfonso II.  Dined and rode with Byron – read Richelieu and Florian’s life of himself,77 called the Memoirs of a Young Spaniard – Florian talks with rapture of Voltaire.78

The Marquis Moncada79 called and talked a great deal with me – he told me he knew that Napoleon sent his boots and old cocked hat to Madrid, he supposed in imitation of what Charles XII said of the Senate of Stockholm.80  Napoleon was heard to say on the parade at Madrid to himself “si l’Espagne me donnoit son soufflet”.81  Moncada is an esprit fort, but against enlightening the people on subjects of religion – he says they have a coarse cloth and coarse diet and must have a coarse religion.  He saw a Spaniard of Valencia, twelve years old, jump up behind a French dragoon, stab him in the neck, roll him off his saddle, and ride away with his horse to the shouts of the people at midday.  He knew Franklin, and heard, I think, Voltaire bless his son82 – “dieu et liberté”.

Bonaparte was very near not entrapping the whole of the royal family to Bayonne83 – the first come wrote to his relation not to come and gave the letter to a confidant who84 wrapped it in his hair.  Moreau85 found out the letter had been written, intercepted the messenger, and holding a pistol to his head made him give it up.  Had the king86 gone to the Asturias, all Spain had armed for him.  Moncada owns the Bourbon princes were hated in Spain.

This is a very fine old man of the oldest and best school, and is said to be ninety-five years old – perhaps he is eighty-five.  He commanded a regiment in Spain – was born at Palermo – passed twelve years in Mexico.

To return to Florian – it is surprising what libertinage seems to have reigned in his youth amongst the boys, especially in the military schools – Florian was one of the victims of the revolution, but died before forty, not on the scaffold but in consequence of imprisonment by Robespierre.87  He was noble – his death caused no sensation in those days of horror.

Friday August 15th 1817

Writing a note on the Clitumnus88 for Byron’s Childe.  Dine – ride out to Dolo as usual, where there was a fair – like one of our fairs.  This is the feast of the Assunta Madonna.89  The bottega at Dolo seemed crammed with good company – road covered with the sulky gigs90 of the country and other carriages.  Byron and I ate langouria (large water-melon) and did not sup – evening at my Sartori’s.91

Saturday August 16th 1817

Sirocco – my ears and head ringing worse than ever.  Saw at bottega an Italian who had been at London.  What struck him most was the cleanliness of the people, the pavements, the lamps, the bridges, the ships, the great hospital (which?), the modesty of the women by daylight, and the dearness of provisions – he spent six francs a day!!  I see that the present English in Italy are thought saving and to travel for economy – which he excused on the right ground of our having been half ruined by fighting the battles of all Europe.

I read Bayle92 this morning.  “Combabus”, “Grandier”, Francis I, and “Francis, Saint”93 whose cinque piaghe94 some adversary says were made with a spit by St Dominic.  I see nothing of what Mr Grey told me of St Francis being a buck who broke his leg a second time to have it better set.95  There is a waggery in Bayle which made me laugh very often – see article Eve.96

Dined as usual.  Zagati told me that the Austrians had diminished the imports two thirds, but had not made themselves liked even by the possidenti,97 who have gained so much by them.  He averred that not an Italian in Venice lived as a friend with an Austrian, and if an Austrian had any liaison with a Venetian woman, the husband at least was never his friend!!!98  Under the French the abundance of grain was so great that the poor got their bread for twenty lire the sack of flour – the possidenti could not get money enough to pay their taxes and were obliged to sell their land.99  Last winter corn was sixty.  It is now forty lire the sack, which Zagati considers the proper medium.100

The Polesina, of which Rovigo is the capital, being the low land between the Po and the Adige, is sufficient for the whole Stato Veneto.  Zagati said that of all the Venetians who had been guilty of commanding the neutrality in time of the French invasion,101 and so of losing the independence of the state, only two had been held in any consideration by the late government.  One was sent into employ to improve the agriculture of Dalmatia, and another to Milan, where he is now old and blind.  He told me that he was then a boy of thirteen, but that he, with all the rest of Terra Firma, mounted the cockade of St Mark and was ready to fight.  The whole country waited only for orders to act – and were told to keep neuter.  Thus was Venice lost by her own gentiluomini.102  When the treaty of Campo Formio was signed,103 some of these traitors assisted the transfer, for fear the declaration of the independence of the Republic should put it into the hands of their countrymen to punish them.  The word gentiluomo Veneto is not lost yet: I hear at this village such a one is a gentiluomo Veneto – they totter about here, shadows of their former selves.  A gentiluomo employed on Terra Firma was above everyone in his district, and had no other restraint than the fear of one of his subjects getting the protection of a more powerful gentleman at Venice.  <I read> Zagati said that the Milanese, and General Pino104 notably, who had gained everything by the French, were the cause of the abandonment of the Viceroy105 and of the loss of the bel momento which might have made Italy free by declaring Eugene its King – or at least king of the Iron Kingdom106 – yet Eugene was hissed in the theatre even when in power in Milan: the Venetians hate the Milanese.

I see by Richelieu that one of Alberoni’s107 plans was to give half the Milanese with Mantua to the Venetians and half to the Duke of Savoy.108  The Germans are laid down in these memoirs as notoriously the perpetual disturbers of Italy – the Cardinal minister intended to drive them forever beyond the Alps.

I read some more of Middleton – how curious is the story of Macer109 suffocating himself with his handkerchief in court to save his property and sending to the Praetor Cicero just before he was going to pronounce judgement to tell him he was dead.  I fear the more probable story is true – that Macer took to his bed and died.  If I go to Rome again I will keep the Nones of December, the day on which Cicero saved Rome.110

I rode out with Byron to Dolo.  A second fair day feast of St Roche once removed for St Napoleon.111

I saw a gondola from Venice rowed by four men in gala and merry andrew dresses.  Came back and read Cicero again, and then flirted away the evening with the Sartorian family.  Read Richelieu’s account of the minister Argenson and his seraglio at the convent of Trainel.112  The memoir mentions one Fermet as in love with his own daughter who intrigued with Richelieu.113  The maréchal had an affair with his own aunt, Madame. de Nesle, who fought a duel with Madame de Polignac for him – and was wounded in the breast.114

Sunday August 17th 1817

Up late as usual, about half past ten.  Reading about the intrigue and threats of Dubois and Alberoni previous to the triple alliance.115  Breakfast at coffee house – read in my little book,116 that Venice had 200,000 inhabitants.  Write to Charlotte – wrote journal – a hot day, thermometer at a hundred in the sun and eighty in my room.  The school has just gone by to the dottrina,117 singing with their crucifixes.  I remark how sweet and in what tune the men’s voices are – although peasants apparently.  Remark the passion for cards in the little possidenti here, and the extreme fainéance118 of the nation.  A man with a book is stared at – dined with Byron.  Rode in the evening and went to the bottega where a middle-aged lady119 entered eagerly into conversation with me, and on my expressing some of the commonplace sentiments of liberty &c. laid hold of my hand – she told me the Austrians promised everything when they came and persuaded the possidenti to consent to a sort of gratuitous tax for service of the poor, and then came upon them for a rate extraordinary, amounting to three millions.  I hear this woman has been twice married – is of the most amorous complexion, and has for her husband a gentiluomo whose family, she assured me, was nine hundred years old.

Monday August 18th 1817

Writing notes for Childe Harold – read Richelieu in the evening – Middleton after dinner – dine with Byron – ride with him – wander backwards and forwards between Sartori’s and Byron’s villa.

Tuesday August 19th 1817

Letter from Sophy – the party120 are at Paris and set off thence on second of this month for Whitton.  News from Siri of a vessel going to Corfu this week – but I can’t go121 – notes on Childe Harold.  Dinner – rode – books as usual.

Wednesday August 20th 1817

Writing notes – walk in the vine-hung fields as usual for a singular purpose.122  They are praying for rain for the polenta123 which regulates the price of the corn in [  ] [  ] [  ] [  ] of the peasants.  We have flashes of lightning every night – ride with Byron.  Return over the other side of the river from Dolo, which is a pretty wild green lane comparatively with the other dusty road.124  See two women, mother and daughter,125 who call themselves English to the people here, but I can only make out that they speak Greek and have lived in Zante.126  Greek is by no means uncommon here.  Capeternachi, an old woman who has played away her pezzi127 at cards, is, though, a Greek.  Petritine, censor at Venice,128 is of that nation.  Riding home, remarked the moon reigning on the right of us and the Alps still blushing with the gaze of the sunset.  The Brenta came down upon us all purple a delightful scene, which Byron has put in three stanzas of his Childe Harold.129

Thursday August 21st 1817

Notes as usual – dine and ride also back by the other side.  Flirting at the Doctor’s – a strange life – depend [upon it,] my cursed bad habits strengthen as I go weak.

Friday August 22nd 1817

Write notes and a letter in Italian, assisted by the Doctor, to the Canonico Cavaliere, librarian of the public library at Ferrara, asking for a copy of the letters written by Tasso130 – dined at Byron’s, but stopped in ride by a thunderstorm, which kept me at the Doctor’s daughters.  I walked back with Byron.  Thunder like cannon.  Madame de Staël is reported to have died a Catholic, although sensible to the last – also to have had a son at forty-nine, and to have been married to Rocca.131  I read some of Moore’s Lallah Rookh and think the slumbering Albatross is not bad132 – but it is all Byron – a review in the British133 is very good I think on all the oriental poets of our day.

Saturday August 23rd 1817

Rainy morning, fresh and cool – write notes – dine with Byron – ride in cool evening.  Came to Sartori’s – read there a book called Medicina Forense,134 rules for torturing, which appears to have been of use in the tribunals in 1801.135  Chiefly on luxations by the cord.136  Trifled away the whole evening very dully with buscherole punch and the doctor’s daughters.  Zagati at dinner today told me that an old Gondolier ended the stanzas of the Venetian Tasso where he began them.137

Sunday August 24th 1817

Cool morning – write journal at coffee house – notes as usual – the dinner and the day as usual – riding in the evening.

Monday August 25th 1817

Notes – day as usual – dine – ride – punch and daughters of the doctor.  I hear that torturing was not allowed for thirty years before the expiration of the old republic.138

Tuesday August 26th 1817

Notes – day as usual – dine – ride – punch, and doctor’s family with Byron read a little Cicero and Richelieu.139

Wednesday August 27th 1817

Notes – day as usual – dine, ride, punch and doctor’s daughters.  Lovely moonlight nights – no dew – nor cold.

Thursday August 28th 1817

Letter from dear Sophy, who is arrived in England and at Whitton – thank Heaven – in health – all of them.  Notes – letter to Sophy – dine – ride – daughters of Doctor and moonlight walk.  Read Ms. of St. Helene140 – a singular performance by someone who must know Napoleon well.  He said to Macnamara141 that he should have died at Moscow – I find the same sentiment here.  Edinburgh and Quarterly Reviews142 for April – Lallah Rookh,143 Modern Greece,144 – Gally Knight,145 and other things arrived by Parthenopex of Blois146 – came down Brenta in a gondola by moonlight.

Friday August 29th 1817

Notes – dine ride <drink> moonlight walk with Byron.

Zagati at dinner told us two singular stories.147  The murderer of the girl, who, it seems was not caught by a dog, was to have been hanged the other day.  The ketch died,148 and there is now a competition for that office.  A gentleman who has raised himself to a large fortune has a poor brother to whom he has constantly refused relief – this brother went to put in for ketch’s place – the gentleman heard of it and has offered him whatever he will take not to disgrace his name!!!

A Turk arrived at the Regina di Ungheria inn at Venice and lodged there.  He asked to speak to the mistress of the inn, a buxom lady of forty, in keeping with certain children, and who had lost her husband many years before at sea.  After some preliminaries, my hostess went to the Turk, who immediately shut the door, and began questioning her about her family and her late husband.  She told her loss.  When the Turk asked if her husband had any particular mark about him, she said – yes, he had a scar on his shoulder – “Something like this?” said the Turk, pulling down his robe – “I am your husband – I have been to Turkey – I have made a large fortune and I make you three offers, either to quit your amoroso and come with me, or to stay with your amoroso or to accept a pension and live alone.”149  The lady has not yet given an answer, but Madame Zagati said, “I’m sure I would not leave my amoroso for any husband” – looking at Byron.  This is too gross even for me.

Saturday August 30th 1817

Notes as usual – walk out in fields – second crop of hay cutting under the vines.  The polenta began to be pulled – they spread the grains on the pavement before the Contarini’s home.  Dine – ride – and moonlight walk with Byron.150  I have been ticklish about the bowels all this week.  Doctor says I want baths and mineral waters.  Fine weather – warmer but not too hot.  Headache.  Bed.  Richelieu.

Sunday August 31st 1817

Journal at coffee house.  A paper pasted up: Al Chiarissimo David Zuliani medico chirurgo per l’insigne operazione da esso eseguita alla Mira nell’estrazione della placenta dopo 36 ore del Parto – alla povera Antonia Allegro, Sonetto. [  ] [  ]151 This a piece of gratitude on the part of Antonia’s father, who has no other way of paying the surgeon – yet the payment of a doctor’s visit here is only two lire – ten pence – Doctor Sartori tells me that the Austrian government have [  ] done nothing for the poor here – that he, as doctor and deputato, gives a detail of all the deaths in the campo santo and has had to report upon examination that many have died of hunger and of grass, and other crude substances found in their intestines.  Such misery was never known within his memory in Italy.  The course of municipal power in the states comes from the Emperor – the camera aulica, the Governor of Venice, the counsellor of the government, the centrale congregazion composed of noble Venetians – the provincial congregazion composed of nobles and citizens at Venice in greater number than the central, provincial delegation composed of a delegate named by the Emperor in each province, a Chancellor of the Census residing in every district of each province, deputation Communale residing in every camere composed of three possedenti of each commune, the two last depending on the first – and except in cases of health which requires expedition and all are settled by the delegation.  Every representative must go by the communale deputation up to the Emperor – and wait for six months or a year.  The Venetian kingdom has seven provinces – Venice, Padua, Rovigo, Vicenza, Udino, Verona, and Trento.

Writing notes this morning.  Ride.  Dined with Byron.

Monday September 1st 1817

Notes – dine – ride with Byron as usual – Middleton and Richelieu.

Tuesday September 2nd 1817

Notes – dined, ride with Byron – usual reading – fine weather: but the taglio152 of the Mira being cleared out, an unpleasant odour.

Wednesday September 3rd 1817

Notes.  Dinner.  Ride with Byron all usual, except that we have not our nights at Sartori’s.  I have read three Cantos of Tasso for the first time – it is full of quotable phrase.  I find Olindo’s play upon words when at the stake153 unnatural –

Thursday September 4th 1817

Letter from Henry154 of 15th August.  He tells me that Ridgway says the Letters have a steady continuing sale.  Read over Byron’s fourth Canto again.155  Yesterday ride in evening, most delightful.  The Countess Foscarini156 gave a piccola accademia here – the Sartoris were there and the only beau was the Count de Thoum’s camariere who they say also goes with him.  They say also [  ] [  ] was a dancer at Paris.  One of the Dolo Trulls asked why I did not marry the Germana – she being a puta – there seems no distinction of rank here of any kind … Letter from Scrope Davies to Byron – the chief topic, myself infidus scurra157 – it looks however no good to the last edition – or the rascal would not talk so.  Dine – ride – as usual.

Friday September 5th 1817

I get up a little earlier – try hand at a poem – satiric – write sixty-odd lines – tolerably easily.158  Byron read me a prefatory letter to myself this morning for his canto159 – well written – in his manner.  Dine – ride – read Schiller’s Armenian in Italian160 – the first book very interesting.

Saturday September 6th 1817

Sirocco – wind rising – write and read from Tiraboschi.  Dine – Zagati tells me that the murderer is hanged at last – and that a day or two before he had a fistycuffing with another prisoner who had murdered his brother and who contended his murder was not as bad as the murder of an amorosa.

Madame Zagati says “secondo”.161

Dine.  A little rain.  Gone on scheme with Byron in carriage – the sunset in purple and colour of geranium flowers.  Evening at Sartori and hear Bontempi162 on his guitar.

Madame Zagati, in a jealous fit, came after her husband from Venice at night – was stopped by thieves – thought nothing of it – and on overtaking him flung a pair of scissors at him.  She told this herself to us – she is a vindictive ––––– and found out that some dama who had been shy to her had been a mantenuta163 – the dama’s explanation only made her more angry – she has cost Byron about £500, he says.164

Sunday September 7th 1817

Sirocco – up at eight – journal in coffee house.  Hear that polenta last year was just double what it is now – the measure is now only thirty Venetian soldi.

Notes – dine and ride as usual …

Monday September 8th 1817

Notes – dine, and ride – fine weather.

Tuesday September 9th 1817

Notes, dine, and ride – ditto.

Wednesday September 10th 1817

Notes, dine, and ride – letter from Sophy.

Thursday September 11th 1817

Lord Byron and myself set off in his carriage at half past five in the morning to go to Este.165  Fine morning view of Alps, clear and grey in the distance.  Arrived at Padua, heard of troops marching, and determined not to go beyond Arquà.166  Arrived a little beyond the baths of St Helena,167 went over a bridge to the right, and travelling along a straight narrow road for twenty minutes came near a blue deep lake on left – our postillions did not know the way.  We then go into the roots of the Euganean hills,168 a cluster of conical eminences partly covered with cultivated vines, figs, other fruit trees, and partly bare under a hot sun.  The spot looks like “the crater of an exhausted volcano”, which it is.

Arrived at the farmhouse belonging to the parsonage, we left and walked up the hill to Arquà, which we saw in a cleft between two sloping ledges.  It is a scattered village, very prettily situated in these hills about three miles from the high road.  We went up the side of a declivity to the house of Petrarch, now inhabited by farmers – it is on a ledge, looking down on two descents, and in the village.  There are four rooms such as appear to have been inhabited by him – the ceiling old, but the frescoes representing him and Laura in various scenes I take to have been added some time afterwards.  There is a mutilated bust or two.  The relics are a dried cat169 with verses in Latin both said to be Petrarch’s – a wire safe – an old chair of wood, in which he is said to have died.  Petrarch was found dead in his library with his head resting on a book in 1374.  Lived at Arquà for part of four last years of his life.  They show his inkstand, and it is to be observed that the lid is surmounted by a little figure in bronze – and Ariosto’s inkstand has the same taste – the Italians, in the age even of Petrarch, having before them the models of antiquity, began to be tasty.

We put our names in a book which is only shown to gente polite, and after wandering down to the little garden, under a trellis of muscat vines, went down to the church.  There in the yard stands the tomb alone, on four pilasters, with the wings still preserved in the areas of those days – the whole is of red marble.  There is a little bronze bust on one side of the chest, with an eye out.  The picture of Petrarch in the house has an eye out – there is the mark on one side where a Florentine tried to steal the body and did get one of the arms.  A peasant boy, our guide, knew only that Petrarch was a Florentine.  There is a young laurel tree planted at each angle of the tomb.  Below the church yard is Petrarch’s spring, of [  ] Euganean water, under an arch – we found it beset with hornets.  A goodwife with bottle and glass gave us some to drink and asked us to go to the parsonage and see some of Petrarch’s writing.  We had not money – for everything is as venal at this village, as at Rome, so did not go, but left this lovely spot and walked down to our carriage, where we had eggs and grapes and good wine in a garden amidst the hills.

We found the parson would not give or sell our horses any hay, avowing his house was no inn.  I presume he is annoyed by the number of visitants – yet Arquà is one of the most retired villages I have seen.

We returned in hot weather to Padua.  We found the vintage had begun at Arquà.  At Padua the postmaster made us pay for four posts, although it is only twelve miles to Arquà.  Arrived in a beautiful evening by seven o’clock at La Mira, and dined – we stayed two hours at Arquà.

Petritine, censor of Venice, a Greek of Corfu, came this evening.  He told us Mustoxidthi170 was dreadfully angry at a note about his περι αντιδσεως171 in the Quarterly Review.  Mustoxidthi had desired him to see if there was anything in the Review of the Ambrosian Mss. about him.  Petritine saw what was there said, took it down from Byron and me, and carried it back in great glee, having, he said, an old grudge seven years’ standing against Mustoxidthi.

Petritine told us several singular things tonight – he knew the Abbate Serassi172 – Serassi was a master of the cinque cento but a frequenter of Cardinals – nothing was to be expected of his life of Tasso.  Serassi had a contest with an Englishman about these words in the Arminta: “nuomi lumi ed Orfei”.  Our countryman contended it ought to be lini.173  The Abbate would not give up.  As to Tasso’s cell, Baruffaldi174 told Petritine that they had a tradition about it – Mirillis175 had the inscription put up, and Baruffaldi wrote it.  Baruffaldi has dated a letter by Tasso to show his enchanted garden is the origin of English gardens.

When Petritine was at Ferrara, lightning struck Ariosto’s bust at the Benedictine convent and carried off the iron laurel crown.176  Bianchose of Milan, the defender of Celsus,177 made a poem about it, or a prose story.

The Abbate Cesarotti178 was invited by Napoleon to dine with him at Venice.  Napoleon kept him in play all dinnertime, having him at his right hand and taking the cause of Alexander against his Caesar.  The Abbate had the Prince Eugene next to him but turned his back to him the whole time in the [  ] of bending towards Napoleon – who by the way had made the Viceroy his courier coming in to the town.

Petritine had seen Goethe at Madame Albrizzi’s.179  He never said a word for five hours, and when somebody asked him about Werther, turned red.  Madame de Staël came to Venice with letters or a list of Venetian worthies made out for her by Cesarotti at Padua – amongst them was Francesco Gritti, poet in the Venetian dialect.180  Madame sent out her billets as usual, asking the witty, etc., to come to her, “And in the midst of twelve,” said Petritine “we saw Francesco Gritti, a famous soup-maker, walk in.”  This man was more known to Madame de Staël’s lacquey de place than the poet, and had received the invitation.  The baroness complimented him on his works.  “Si fa cio che si può”181 was his reply – and so they went, till the cook was found out.

Petritine told us he had been afraid to republish Botta’s history of the American Independence182 – but had written to the Emperor, representing the necessity of publishing a classical work which has yet only appeared in France.

A poet has been put in prison for three months for saying that Francis183 sleeps on his throne.184

Sartori showed me a speech made by the Emperor Francis: when the Venetian deputies complimented him on the cession of their city to him, he promised to make Venice recover all her splendour.  “It will be a fishing shed”, said the doctor.  He showed me an ode in the same sense, called La Pace Generale, in which the Germans are said to come back to regottissar Italy.185

Friday September 12th 1817

Wrote letter to Lady Holland – notes – ride – dine &c.

Saturday September 13th 1817

Notes, a little – I could do nothing, feeling half mad.  Tried to walk about the fields – got up earlier – my head is half gone – such as it is, or was – dine, ride.

Sunday September 14th 1817

Notes – the same fine weather – dine and walk and ride.  Finished Middleton’s Cicero – there is something like a novel in the way in which he winds up with telling what became of those mentioned in the history.186  The coincidence of young Cicero beating Anthony at drinking187 (who had written a book about his triumphs at toping) and of being Consul, and receiving from Augustus the account of the defeat of Anthony,188 is very remarkable.  I find a Cestius Praetor, whipped by young Cicero – perhaps the man of the pyramid.189  Seneca is quoted.  Byron talked to me about family affairs tonight – he does not care about his wife now, that is certain – finished sixth volume of Richelieu.

Monday September 15th 1817

Wrote journal at coffee house – notes – ride – and dine at seven.

Tuesday September 16th 1817

Did not go to Venice – wrote notes – went to Fuscina with Byron in carriage – rode out – dined at seven.

Wednesday September 17th 1817

Notes – went to Venice with Byron – and took up my apartments at the Gran Brettagna190 – dined there.  Went to Byron’s in evening.  Walked at the new gardens, where my brother’s party and I walked last year.  I see his name in the stranger’s book – poor dear Sophy’s name with them.

Thursday September 18th 1817

Went in the morning to the Apollo Library – bought a book, Marangoni191 – came home and read and copied for notes out of it – called on Byron – came back – dined – read Gibbon.  Went to hear Grassini192 at an accademia.

Friday September 19th 1817

Went to the Apollo, and read and wrote until two o’clock – then went to the Grimani palace193 with Byron and again admired the little marble cabinet, the Socrates and Alcibiades, the Marcus Agrippa in the court, the peasant with the basket – no catalogue has been made of these antiquities.

Called after dinner on Whishaw194 who I find is here.  He told me positively that Madame de Staël did not die a Catholic – he saw her four days before she died – it was Ward who spread the report in a letter to Murray.  Whishaw most admired Tasso’s cell – he had no notion of any doubts.  It seems the letters of Tasso are to be copied for me, and I am called Lord Byron’s secretary.

The Kinnairds come195 – send for Byron – conversation – the Kinnairds have been at Munich and at Augsberg.196  At the first place they dined with the King of Bavaria197 and Prince Eugene,198 at the second saw Hortense of Holland199 – F Beauharnais.  Hortense is positive that the Ms. from St. Helene200 is Napoleon’s, and says the mention made of her mother201 is a certain proof of it.  It is short and feeling – another writer would have looked about for effects, Lord Kinnaird thinks.  This opinion must have come from Prince Eugene, although he could not find the opportunity to ask him.  The King of Bavaria is most liberal and free spoken – he mentioned the attempt that had been made to make him prosecute Hortense.  Lord Kinnaird tells me that Abbé Sièyes202 at Brussels is positive that the Ms. is Bonaparte’s – Cambacérès203 thinks it is not.  The French government have talked of recalling the passports which they originally gave to the refugees at Brussels, in order to prevent the Dutch king204 from affording them a longer refuge.

Saturday September 20th 1817

This morning went about with the Kinnairds – to St  Mark’s place, church, to the Manfrini pictures.205  We all admired Giorgione most – his three portraits of wife and son and self.206  Byron and the Kinnairds and I dined at my inn – Lord Kinnaird told us a story of a conspiracy207 between the Prussians and the discontented in Paris in the winter of 1815, of which Lord Castlereagh was not ignorant and was supposed to participate.  The Prussians gave 30,000 arms, not yet found; Castlereagh was shown to them.  The conspirators – the objective was a pretext to dismember France.  It is not thought that Castlereagh was in the secret, and that he had no other motive than finding it all out is most probable.  It was found out forty-two officers of rank were imprisoned for three months, but were not punished – thus powerful interest must have been made for them.  This seems to me a fairytale, but Lord Kinnaird says he is sure of the fact.  Went to the St Moïse Theatre,208 which opened today – place full – Figaro209 acted – I have been ill two or three days – bath salts.

Sunday September 21st 1817

Employed morning reading fourth canto to the Kinnairds – went out in the gondola with Lord Kinnaird and Lord Byron to the gardens.  Lord Kinnaird read to me a new poem of Frere’s, excellent and quizzical – no better since the days of Swift.210  Read a bit of Macirone’s Joachim Murat.211  Douglas Kinnaird tells me my Letters to Byron212 has not taken – I am too violent, devil damn him.  But he is not a judge – he was angry at my not having followed his advice about shortening the work, and he is one of your modern readers who cannot support an argument but must have stories.  Someone, whom I suspect to be Lord Lansdowne, told Baillie213 that I had too many stories – hard task to suit the palates of such guests.  Very bad news of S.B. Davies.214  Captain Wallace215 has ended in the galleys, where he has been chained for some robbery.  All dine together – argumentation between the brothers.216

Monday September 22nd 1817

Pigou217 called, from Greece.  Bankes218 has been in Nubia – there is a plague at Livadia and perhaps at Athens – positively I do not go.  Wrote a little journal this morning – go about with the Kinnairds seeing sights – <Manfrini Palace>219 Pigou dined with me at our inn.  Go in evening to St Moïse theatre – hear that the expense of house and actors for the whole season up to the end of November is not above £300.  Figaro of Rossini.220 Beautiful music – but reminded me of his (other) Tancredi.221  Extraordinary profligacy of women here – I changed £50 of Henry’s Saturday222 – and got twenty-four francs – sixty for the pound.

Tuesday September 23rd 1817

Going about with the Kinnairds.  Byron and all dine together at our inn – Rizzo, Count,223 came in – went to St Benedetto theatre224 – saw ballet.

Wednesday September 24th 1817

Going about with the Kinnairds to Grimani palace – and churches.  Fine weather.  Dined with the Kinnairds at our inn.  Evening spent at Byron’s where music from Madame Zagati – Bontempi225 – a lady there.226

Thursday September 25th 1817

Going about with the Kinnairds – dine at the Leon Blank227 with Pigou and a Mr Erle of Liverpool.228  Both liberal,229 but I since find them “au niveau”230 frightened about something said about assassinating Castlereagh.  Pigou told me that Sir Thomas Maitland231 at Corfu had said in his hearing that he would not employ an honest man but only a damned scoundrel, one whom he could hang at any time – he is incensed like a god there – wine of Istria good.

Friday September 26th 1817

Find Byron in great tribulation and jealous about Madame Zagati, to whom somebody, so she says, has been sending a billet doux – Madame Zagati negotiates for me with the lady of Wednesday – her friend.  Dine at Pellegrino with the Kinnairds – do not go to the Greek mistress of Chartella232 with the Lord233 today – go to the arena – sit in the open air, but the stage lighted.  It has a very ancient air – and in this starry climate is delightful – the great devil was the hero of the piece,234 and the audience entered into all his distinctions about robbing.  A Good Emperor and an intendant bad were the chief personages – next to the robber.  I go to my lady, and find her name on a note – Alla nobile Signora .......... she born a Loderini, and her brother is named Peter – she was not unpropitious – I went to St Moïse –

Saturday September 27th 1817

Send a letter to my father – telling him to take a lodging for me in Albany if possible – for that I am coming home.235  Poor dear Harriet is not well.  Byron returns to La Mira.  Pigou breakfasted with me, and heard the fourth Canto – he was incensed at the Kinnairds’ presuming to criticise it – enough for whore-mongers and men of fashion to read it.  Walked about a little – dined at Pellegrino alone.  Went to Loderini – heard that a certain couple236 are proverbial for jealousy and pass time ’twixt grida and convulsa.237  Come to box at St Moïse – and afterwards with the Kinnairds and Rizzo – sup at one o’clock at La Luna.  There came in a gentiluomo veneto, one Granderigo – the French used to call him Grand Rigaud.  Wrote a letter to Baillie today, from whom had a letter.  I half advise him not to go to Turkey – Antonio Mire the pimp here is a gentleman.

Sunday September 28th 1817

I lounge about all the morning with the Kinnairds in the arcades of Piazza St Mark’s – crowds of well dressed men and women.  It would be difficult to see decay in such a multitude.  Gibbon has a fine sentence relative to the luxury of a sinking nation – applied to the time of Gratian – “the riot and intemperance of a siege or a shipwreck”, &c.238  I have done nothing this week except read a little Gibbon.  The Kinnairds and I dine at our inn at four – go out in a gondola – see the Salute church and beautiful Luca Giordano – go to the gardens – beautiful evening – now up and down the cool canal239 – nothing equal to Venice.

Pigou told me that the man who reared the columns of the Piazzetta asked as a boon that play might be allowed between the pillars – the privilege was granted.  The Lion of St Mark’s used to have one paw up on the Gospel – the paw is now down and the book away.240  Lounged about in the arcades.  Saw a conjurer – a man selling cundums in the coffee house before all the women, &c.  Turks lounging – a Punch performance in one part – military band parading – the moon shining between the cupolas – went to St Moïse and St Benedetto – both pretty well attended.

Monday September 29th 1817

Went to the public library and copied from St Jerome and Orosues until one, when it shuts.  Walked about with Pigou.  Copied from Grævius at the Apollo library – dined with Pigou at Pellegrino’s – talked politics – he told me there was nothing in my Letters from Paris to justify the abuse of the Quarterly Review – but the reviewer might have heard me talk – but he never did.  Pigou gave me advice, and good in a modest way.  Walked about with him – a delicious night after hot day of Scirocco – came home – to bed at two – letter from Charlotte.

Tuesday September 30th 1817

Up late – heard Kinnaird’s journal.  Lavallette is at Munich called Gossard.  Hear as a great secret that ––––– and –––––– are determined to hang together in case anything happens in ––––––.241  Write journal for last week.  Went about in a gondola and to the gardens with Kinnaird – returned – went to the St Moïse again, and coming home supped with the brothers and took leave of them.  Douglas has a new theory about the revolution having ruined everything, because brought about by a minority, which has been obliged to bribe and corrupt ever since, and has destroyed the free representation – also about the despotism of Queen Elizabeth’s reign which he says never extended to taxation.  I presume this is from Burdett, who by the way lent Cobbett three thousand pounds, of which Cobbett took no notice.

Wednesday October 1st 1817

Employed this day in writing from Grævius – dined at Pellegrino.

Thursday October 2nd 1817

Wrote at the public library, and afterwards from one to five at the Apollo, then returned and wrote until nine at the Apollo.  Sent yesterday letter to Melly.

Friday October 3rd 1817

Wrote at the public library until one from nine, then at the Apollo.  Dined at Pellegrino – returned and wrote again at Apollo.  Saw Mustoxidthi, who told me about his horses with great bitterness at young Dandolo, a boy at the Lyceum writing against him – it is supposed by Cicognara’s242 contrivance.  He told me that he had printed off his ωερι αντιδωσεως quickly, because he was afraid Amati at the Vatican would be beforehand with him.  Mai is a young man of thirty-one, about.  Mustoxidthi is displeased with our Toscan constitution – the nomination of the deputies is thrown too much into the hands of the government, and the three who are sent to London are absolutely without character or acquirements.  The reserve of certain imployo for the English is unbecoming so great a nation.  During the French sway the antiquities of the country were studied; now they are entirely neglected.  Mustoxidthi says Petritine is his enemy and a liar.  Wrote letter to Sophy this evening, having heard the death of my good weak old schoolmaster Dr Estlin,243 who fell down suddenly, or died of an apoplectic fit.

Saturday October 4th 1817

Up later than usual – for I have lately been out of bed before eight, and read and write all the morning until near six at the Apollo – saw Mustoxidi again – he tells me that Leake244 – cites the Teseide of Boccace245 as an original Greek poem – now the Teseide is mentioned in Wharton’s history of English poetry.  A man here has written an octavo volume without the letter R: you may read it and not miss the letter – the date is 1816.  I dine at home and read the life of Anacreon by Mustoxidi, prefaced to a late Italian translation of that author.  It tells some news – but I think is heavy – perhaps it was impossible to prevent it.  I wrote to Torlonia for Fea’s Winckelmann, which I think is source here.  I have expended five louis on a luxury, one on a hat, one on chains of beads, one on an English beggar.  Eating and drinking here, exhausted nearly two more – to bed ten.

Sunday October 5th 1817

Very extraordinary suspicions almost verified.246  I breakfast every morning at the Florian coffee house247 for twenty-two or twenty-eight Venetian soldi.  In the time of the republic you could get a better dinner for one franc – forty Venetian soldi – than you can now for five.  In the gazette here, at the end, these articles come one after another.  Charade, spectacles for the day – St Benedict, St Moïse – the Arena &c.  I here see a sonnet from the Harlequin of the Arena to the Venetian people.  Write journal after breakfasting at Florian.  We have strange cold weather, with rain – like our English November.

Monday October 6th 1817

The above mentioned suspicion verified.  I go to the public library, and write until one thence to the Apollo, and do the same until dinner time dine at Pellegrino.  Come home and find Byron come and gone – in an equinoctial storm.

Tuesday October 7th 1817

Write at public library and at Apollo – dine at home.  Duke of Devonshire248 called – he is just come from Russia and Vienna.  Appears to me much improved – he is delighted with Russia.  Tells me the Emperor has as much pride in his capital and Empire as a private gentleman in his house and park – but they can’t whitewash a house in Petersburg without his permission.  I told him that the Princess of Wales had a mameluke249 outside her carriage – he answered it was not so bad as having a courier inside.250  Now this is not bad for any body.  Wrote a poem 251– either today or yesterday.

Wednesday October 8th 1817

Went to Fuscina in a gondola, and walked thence to La Mira in a little more than two hours.  Saw Byron – dined with him – and returned with him in his carriage to Fuscina – home by seven o’clock.  Called on Duke of Devonshire, and went soon to bed.

Thursday October 9th 1817

Went to the public library, which is not public now but is still open to me for a promised reward.  Wrote until one, then at the Apollo.  Dined at the Pellegrino – walked in the garden – cold weather.  Came home and wrote poetry in the Childe’s style – it is difficult, but not inimitable.252  Byron has imitated Frere’s imitation in a description of Venice253 and done it well.

[Not in diary: Hobhouse’s four stanzas “in the Childe’s style” (BL.Add.Mss 36455 f. 390)]

* Totila swore that he would erase Rome from the face of the earth and convert her Palatine “in gregum puscua” – Belisarius dissuaded him – but the ground into which the imperial palace stretched contiguous to the Roman forum is actually now part of what is called the Campo Vaccino – and herds are now foddered in the porches of the Caesars.

Friday October 10th 1817

At the public library from ten until two, then at the Apollo.  Dine at home.  I am very ill – at least out of sorts – no diet agrees with me – my ears ring so that I sometimes feel as if I were going mad – and now comes this cursed mishap.254

Saturday October 11th 1817

At the library until half past two, having first visited the hideous pozzi.255  Then walked about with Claridge256 in the gardens – the first warm day we have had.  We dine and go to the St Moïse together – he is a lawyer, and shoppy.  He told me [of] a curious letch – a man in the temple keeps a coffin and sends for the girls of the town – those who fit the coffin he honours with his embraces.  Those too long or too short he dismisses.257  Byron tells me the story of the husband at the Queen of Hungary258 is false.

Sunday October 12th 1817

Raining hard – breakfast at home for first time since Wednesday last.  Write Spenserian stanzas, two,259 and this journal, which makes me lose my morning.  N.B. the advertisement of the comic company Venier and Vestris, beginning “If there is a happy moment in the life of man it is then when he returns to places dear to him by their recollection,” &c.  Another company begins their playbill “When Europe was divided into factions”, &c.  The first day of my having a fire in my room.  I went to the chamber where Henry’s party was last year.  I thought I saw them sitting about the cloth covered table – sat at home – dined at home – wrote &c.

Monday October 13th 1817

Went to the public library, read, and wrote.  Gave two zechins to men there – came home and dined, &c.

Tuesday October 14th 1817

Went to public library – came home two.  Paid bill, 317 francs, at the inn – waiters, &c., 48 francs – drew on Siri for £40 at 24 francs 60 centimes.  At three got into a gondola with four men and went to Fuscina – blowing hard.  Found Lord Byron had been waiting and was gone.  Went on in gondola to La Mira – fourteen francs – passed two locks – found him well and merry and happy – more charming every day.  Dined on clarets, &c.  Took up quarters with him at the Casa Trabucco.260

Wednesday October 15th 1817

Began my operations by getting up between seven and eight and copying and writing notes – Byron appears about two.  I write on until three or four when, if the weather permits, I ride with him – it is cold and rainy and more uncomfortable than in England – thermometer in the room at 55 or 56.  The pan of hot ashes makes my head ache.  Dine at six – bed at ten.

Thursday October 16th 1817

Up as usual.  Notes, and ride, and dine, and bed.  Leaves yellow, and falling by the chestnut walk by Henry III’s palace – grapes all off the trees, but meet them in wagonloads.

Friday October 17th 1817

Read Serassi’s Life of Tasso.  Ride, or walk with, in this inclement season – dine at six – bed at ten.  Hear the fate of Moncada, who has turned all his servants away and promises to marry La Moassa, who sleeps with him – they have quarrelled with Madame Foscarini – who is not Madame Foscarini – never having been married to Foscarini.  Bartolo Baccarello says he will not introduce her and her bastards to the virtuous Moncada.

Saturday October 18th 1817

Serassi again – ride or walk – dine &c. – bed at ten.

Sunday October 19th 1817

Writing – Mr Joy and a Mr Gregson261 of Oxford call – saw Davies in London, and apparently going on well.  Brought letter of introduction to Byron and me from him.  Hear L.W.Ward has been cut up by Romilly and Tierney.  Hope that the ministers could pardon his support as easy as the Whigs did his desertion.  Rode out – occasionally a fine evening and mild – dine &c.

Monday October 20th 1817

Writing.  This morning called Mr Ticknor,262 an American gentleman who seemed to know every considerable person in Germany and France – a friend of President Jefferson – who told him that Franklin talked French worse than any body he ever heard – used to say “mon poche” and yet was most voluble and successful in Paris.  Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence – Ticknor describes him as an old man living on a farm on a hill – Monticello, eighty miles from Washington.  Ticknor was in Germany when the attack on Goethe’s life came out in the Edinburgh Review.263  Goethe has an enemy at Jena, a magazine conductor, who printed and translated the article directly.  Ticknor tells me my Travels have been reprinted in America these two years and my Letters in France lately advertised.  He brought in an American fellow-traveller, Mr Roberts.264  When they went Lord Byron and I went to Venice – called on Joy and Gregson – did nothing came back and dined late.

Tuesday October 21st 1817

Note writing – life as usual – dine and bed.

Wednesday October 22nd 1817

Letter from Charlotte, telling me my little sister Eliza died almost suddenly and that Dr Parry’s265 affairs are in a very deranged state .  Notes – ride &c.

Thursday October 23rd 1817

Letter from Sophia with the news of yesterday.  Proceed writing &c.  Fine moonlight – walk to Sartori.

Friday October 24th 1817

Notes &c.  Write letter to Mrs H.  Hobhouse, and letters to Mezzophanti and Buonarotti, for Joy and Gregson, also to Custode about Tasso at Ferrara.  Took a walk – and fine day – Joy and Gregson dined with us – the fatted calf being killed to do honour to Davies.  Joy worked laboriously to be clever – told Sir Thomas Liddle repeated in Durham, when drunk, a lampoon against himself:

Our travellers went off at eight o’clock.

Saturday October 25th 1817

Notes &c. until four.  Walked out by myself – beautiful evening – dined.  Zagati here – he tells that in the Pisani papers it is found that they employed Sansorino as proto architect for nine lire venite a week.  A man has three or four zechins now as Proto.  He says the post office palace is said to be raised on posts made of precious Indian wood.  Not above ten or twelve families doing well in Venice.  Erizzo got his money by a speculation of his uncle, who had some financial secret from the Emperor of Austria, and emptied all the Venetian states of gold – he married his uncle’s whore.  Guido Erizzo, his brother, is allowed 18,000 francs a year by him – and Guido has in all about 60,000 – with this he keeps up a great table at Venice – from six to twenty dine with him every day.

We walk by moonlight – more brilliant than I ever saw – Byron and I curse Coleridge for his criticism on Pope’s moonlight from Homer266 – home – talk and bed half past eleven – I try in vain to read Ormond, Miss Edgeworth’s new novel267 – I catch her every instant in putting verse into prose and making learning pass for wit.

Sunday October 26th 1817

Up at eight – write journal – thermometer fifty-six.  Write notes.  Dine and ride, or rather, ride and dine as usual.

Monday October 27th 1817

Notes and ride and dine, &c …

Tuesday October 28th 1817

Notes, &c., &c …

Wednesday October 29th 1817

Notes, &c.  Fine weather coming again – they call it “the little summer of St Martin”, which concludes fine skies of the season and sends the Italians to the town – the saint[’s day] is on the 11th of November.

Thursday October 30th 1817

Notes &c.  Ride – fine weather – continue getting up at a decent hour, about eight – at night read a little of some nonsense – bed about ten.  Byron retires to Madame from eight to that hour – he does not get up till two.

Friday October 31st 1817

Notes, &c.  Ride as usual.

Saturday November 1st

Set out with Byron in his carriage at quarter past six.  Went to Padua and Montselice, and thence to Este and saw the villa Berlinger which he has taken off Hoppner, our consul, for forty-two louis a year – a beautiful place on a green knoll, with the walls of the old Este cradle opposite.  Este seems a nice town, with a large market place.  We stayed an hour, delighted.  Fletcher’s attention was chiefly attracted by seeing scorpions in a bottle, which he thought an odd allure.  We were nearly driven to the wrong post, but came back and by dint of four horses, came back to La Mira after a lovely agreeable day by six o’clock – where found disagreeable letter from Hoppner, and my sister Amelia, who tells me that poor Harriet has been confined to her bed from Easter last with a nervous irritation – this we think the drawback of our day …  All Saints Day.

Sunday November 2nd 1817

Notes, &c.  Day of tutti i morti, &c.  Ride – old Moncada has turned la Moassa out of his house after a month268 – and the curious were collected to see the boat which ferried her back to the Signor Baccarello’s.  This gentil donna Veneta had been foolish enough to receive letters from an advocate, who kept her, and gave her advice as to disposing of the old man’s person and property.  Moncada had actually made dispositions – blank papers, &c. – for leaving her everything, but a suspicion was given him.  She wrote a letter to her lover lawyer stating she had given him one bile and hoped to give him another and get rid of him, calling him a vecchio impossibile – a servant maid who was to take this to the post gave it instead to Moncada, who got also the letters written to her.  He pretended to admire the little box in which they were locked.  He said, “If you like it you may have it”.  He put his hand to it – she said she must take the papers out of it.  He said “No, it is the papers I want” – she resisted, when he fairly pushed her on the sofa and took out the letters.  He sent for a lawyer, and the next morning coolly told her, “Either you go out of the house or I will”.  She came away, but sent for her pianoforte and her bed-linen, and a promised pension.  There is no knowing what she got out of him, but his pin money was only fifty francs a month.  He swears she tried to excite him.  She says he tried to get her to bed to him – so ends this ridiculous affair between a Spaniard of seventy-eight, and a girl of twenty-two.  A strange state of morals and management.  The old fellow is a liberale and thought of retiring to San Marino.

Monday November 3rd 1817

Notes, &c.  Ride and dine.

Tuesday November 4th 1817

Notes, &c.  Ride and dine.

Wednesday November 5th 1817

Notes, &c.  Ride and dine.

Thursday November 6th 1817

Notes and ride – the sun let in a cold quick fog – and half wetted us coming home.

Friday November 7th 1817

Notes – ride and dine again.

Saturday November 8th 1817

Notes, and went to Venice with Byron.  Wrote a letter to Charlotte – came back and dined.

Sunday November 9th 1817

Notes – and do not ride, it being wet – the walnuts stripped – winter nearly confirmed.

Monday November 10th 1817

Notes, and walk alone – a fine evening – full dinner – Egarements du Coeur269 a dull book.

Tuesday November 11th 1817

Notes – late rising at nine – delicious day – in great spirits, rode out – full dinner – brandy, &c.  The goat.270

Wednesday November 12th 1817

Up later – notes.  Ride out rather earlier – cold.  Truth told about memory, which I find going alas – the little I ever had.  Walk out – inscription: doei amoenitate illectus – sedem hame hane quietus et pacis sibi suisque omnis paravit – Johannes Blavius Theotoblius Corcyrensis.  A white house in a village opposite a muddy canal – home and dine, and pass bad evening at La Mira.  A strange life – very tranquil and comfortable – the drunken doctor called and desired me to wish him well.

Thursday November 13th 1817

Wrote notes, and at half past three p.m. left Lord Byron’s hospitable mansion, after regalos271 of 109 francs to domestics.  Byron and I went together to Fuscina and thence to Venice, where I took up my abode in the Frezerria – opposite Byron’s house.272  Went to Pellegrino to dinner, where they made me pay five francs, so resolved not to go again – came home – went in the evening to Byron’s.

Friday November 14th 1817273

Up early.  Notes – went in gondola with Byron to the Lido.  Fine day.  Dined at home on dinner of Battista’s274 dressing.  Play in the evening at St Benedetto, with Byron.  One of Goldoni’s – Il Maldicente.275  Ludicrous.  Coffee house life natural here.  Vestris276 is certainly a good actor, and there is something natural that is the exaggerated nature of the Italians in all their acting – brandy and water with Byron.

Saturday November 15th 1817

Early – notes.277  Went <with B> out at three o’clock, and walked in the garden.  The Austrian soldiers drumming there enough to shake the leaves off.278  Dine at home.  Opera, Cinderella.279

Sunday November 16th 1817

Up late – in high health and spirits – notes as usual.  Read life of Tiraboschi280 a superstitious good man, died in 1794, of a stranguary281 chiefly.  Also a life of Winklemann in his Storia &c., translated by Fea, or rather annotated by him,282 which the scoundrels Torlonia have sent me from Rome for fifteen crowns.  He was murdered at Trieste by one Francesco Arcangeli of Pistoja in 1768.  A little more than fifty years old – the son of a cobbler of Halle.  Walked out in the gardens.  A fine evening – setting sun.  Dine at home.  Rode a little – bed early, and cannot sleep for the noise made in streets by people coming from the plays, three of which quite full tonight.  At Santa Luca the entry is only five sous.  At St Benedict, I paid for half a box Venetian lire and a half.

Monday November 17th 1817

Up early – notes till four.  Go with Byron in gondola to the Lido.  Coming home, observing the setting sun, orange and green in the sky which I never recollect to have seen before – the water one flare.  Home, dine.  Go to St Benedetto – house well attended – the Figlio Bandito283 acted – ranting and tearing, but natural.  Hoppner, the painter’s son, consul here,284 tells Byron he feels no sympathy with the Italians who lost their liberties to the French.  This is the way these scoundrels talk, and write home to their government who call their nonsense good information.285  Hoppner says Petritine is liar and a bad man – so I must take care about the anecdotes he told me.286  Bed late after brandy and water.

Tuesday November 18th 1817

Up late.  Settled accounts with Bapista up to first of November.  Draw on Siri for £40, write journal for few days.  Recollect that a charlatan selling a balsam on the quay of the Sclavonians, the other day, said par parenthese that the crowd now in the piazzetta was nothing to what it was when his old master Doctor Gambacusta used to sell his worm balsam on a baneo these thirty years ago.287  Wrote a letter to Buonarotti of Florence288 about Boccaccio, and to Sophy about myself.  Walked out to the Gardens – home, dined.  Went to the opera with Byron – home, bed at twelve.  Exchange at twenty-four, sunk by a cursed decree of the Austrians excluding English merchandise almost.  These fellows tried to sink a well in the island of St Giorgio which is nothing but an artificial mud bank.289  They are very particular here about calling out “Chi è?”290 before they open doors, as two women were murdered last winter.

Wednesday November 19th 1817

Up by eight – writing notes until near four.  Walked out to gardens.  Met Byron – came home with him – then walked in piazza.  Dull day.  Zanetto291 tells me that Lucca oil, which was one franc when the French were here, and a third of a fleet was always taken by the English, is now one and twelve sous when all arrive.  Dine – and attack the Colisseum.292  After dinner went to the <St Benedetto> St Luca – saw a play of Goldoni’s harlequin – La Vedova Scaltra.293  Lord Ronbill had a star in his buttonhole – made a present of 1,000 ducats twice to his mistress and called for punch – wretched acting.  The Spaniard, Don Albero, had been a Vetturino294 – they left out the trait at the end when the Franc Limon295 offers to be the Cavalier Servente of the lady whom he can’t marry.  This was too home and thrust perhaps – fine mouth.296

Thursday November 20th 1817

Up as usual – writing notes – went to the Gardens – met Byron.  Walked with him and came back in his gondola – dined at home.  Battista took my carriage to Mestre today from La Mira – they297 allow no one coming post by land to come by a private boat to Venice – Battista was stopped and brought back, but compounded for two oars and half a three francs and a half.  Went in evening to my old lodgings,298 where the old landlord talked to me about old times.  The republic was upset by those who wished to be all equal.  An apothecary of the name of Dandolo299 took the sword from Manin300 the last Doge.  He did not declaim against the patricii nor their prisons – the man who was found in the pozzi301 by the French had murdered his father and mother, he said.  Talked of the luxury of those days and the bona-mercato.  Eight theatres open at Carnival, and the gay men made the round of all in the course of the night.  I went to Byron’s and sat till twelve – then returned to my old lodgings – and came home about one.

Friday November 21st 1817

Up early – went with in Byron’s gondola to Siri and Wilhalm’s.  Exchange fallen again – owing to their accursed decree no demand for English papers – left £30 with them.  Went with Byron to Lido – his horse and hay arrived.  The douane at Fuscina made the hay pay a deposit of 6,000 francs in case it should land at Venice instead of Lido, which is not within the jurisdiction.  Fine evening – came back – walked in the piazza under the moon.  It was the great Venice feast under the Salute302 – the bridge made further down than two years ago owing to the falls of the boats, when five were drowned when the Emperor Francis was here.  Dined – went in the evening to St Benedetto and saw The Triumph of Humanity, or Bombardment of Algiers303 – Lord Exmouth was in a jacket with a feathered <cap> hat – he was acted by the madman in Aguere – the Turks had bayonets and muskets and knew the manual exercise.  House chock full – home eleven.  Bed.

Saturday November 22nd 1817

Up, notes.  At a little past two, went with Byron to Lido.  Mounted the grey and rode along the beach with him partly, and partly on a bank to opposite to Malamocco,304 about five miles.  Curious land near Malamocco – gardens with red hedges.  Lovely day – recollect the glee inspired by galloping along the beach – a light breeze – boats – boys fishing for little crabs.  Came home half past five – dried water – dined – Byron told me he thought Lady Byron did not like me.305  At another time said I had no principle, because Byron used to say I should laugh at some fine sayings of his – poor dear contradictory thing.  Read a little Velleius Paterculus306 – Servilia, wife of young Lepidus who conspired against Augustus and was taken off by Maecenas, “vivo igni devorato prematurum mortem immortale nominis sui memoria penscuit!” swallowing coals “sui memoria penscuit”.  Swallowing coals was the fashionable death then, although if Portia had done so307 Velleius would probably have mentioned it, for he mentions the suicide of Calpurnia, wife of Aristius.  Suicide is so much praised that it could have been thought so little – if as was supposed [by] Paterculus that Anthony “se ipse non seguitur intermemit ades ut multa desidiae crimina morte redimeret” unless he means to put the “non seguitur” and the “desidea” in apposition – Asinius Pollio308 said “ero praesta victoris” – a good motto for Ward.

Sunday November 23rd 1817

Notes – ride on Lido – fine day.  There meet two riding, a banker of Augsburg and his son, the only horses kept for riding on the islands.  Went opposite by the bank to Malamocco.  Coming back, the banker and Byron before, Byron holloed out “Hobhouse, what do you think – the Princess Charlotte is dead!”309  The bankers had read of her dying in childbed, after being delivered of a dead son.  We were really affected by this news, and went home conjecturing – dined at home after trying to hear more in vain.  Home at night – I think.

Monday November 24th 1817

Up early – notes as usual – went to Apollo.  The news was in the Legarno Gazette – not believed