Life of Lord Byron, Vol. IV | Page 5

marble; the
Genius of Death, a sleeping figure, &c. &c.
"I also went to the Medici chapel--fine frippery in great slabs of various
expensive stones, to commemorate fifty rotten and forgotten carcasses.
It is unfinished, and will remain so.
"The church of 'Santa Croce' contains much illustrious nothing. The
tombs of Machiavelli, Michael Angelo, Galileo Galilei, and Alfieri,

make it the Westminster Abbey of Italy. I did not admire any of these
tombs--beyond their contents. That of Alfieri is heavy, and all of them
seem to me overloaded. What is necessary but a bust and name? and
perhaps a date? the last for the unchronological, of whom I am one. But
all your allegory and eulogy is infernal, and worse than the long wigs
of English numskulls upon Roman bodies in the statuary of the reigns
of Charles II., William, and Anne.
"When you write, write to Venice, as usual; I mean to return there in a
fortnight. I shall not be in England for a long time. This afternoon I met
Lord and Lady Jersey, and saw them for some time: all well; children
grown and healthy; she very pretty, but sunburnt; he very sick of
travelling; bound for Paris. There are not many English on the move,
and those who are, mostly homewards. I shall not return till business
makes me, being much better where I am in health, &c. &c.
"For the sake of my personal comfort, I pray you send me immediately
_to Venice_--_mind, Venice_--viz. _Waites' tooth-powder_, red, a
quantity; calcined magnesia, of the best quality, a quantity; and all this
by safe, sure, and speedy means; and, by the Lord! do it.
"I have done nothing at Manfred's third Act. You must wait; I'll have at
it in a week or two, or so. Yours ever," &c.
* * * * *
LETTER 277. TO MR. MURRAY.
"Rome, May 5. 1817.
"By this post, (or next at farthest) I send you in two other covers, the
new third Act of 'Manfred.' I have re-written the greater part, and
returned what is not altered in the proof you sent me. The Abbot is
become a good man, and the Spirits are brought in at the death. You
will find I think, some good poetry in this new act, here and there; and
if so, print it, without sending me farther proofs, _under Mr. Gifford's
correction_, if he will have the goodness to overlook it. Address all
answers to Venice, as usual; I mean to return there in ten days.

"'The Lament of Tasso,' which I sent from Florence, has, I trust, arrived:
I look upon it as a 'these be good rhymes,' as Pope's papa said to him
when he was a boy. For the two--it and the Drama--you will disburse to
me (via Kinnaird) six hundred guineas. You will perhaps be surprised
that I set the same price upon this as upon the Drama; but, besides that I
look upon it as good, I won't take less than three hundred guineas for
any thing. The two together will make you a larger publication than the
'Siege' and 'Parisina;' so you may think yourself let off very easy: that is
to say, if these poems are good for any thing, which I hope and believe.
"I have been some days in Rome the Wonderful. I am seeing sights,
and have done nothing else, except the new third Act for you. I have
this morning seen a live pope and a dead cardinal: Pius VII. has been
burying Cardinal Bracchi, whose body I saw in state at the Chiesa
Nuova. Rome has delighted me beyond every thing, since Athens and
Constantinople. But I shall not remain long this visit. Address to
Venice.
"Ever, &c.
"P.S. I have got my saddle-horses here, and have ridden, and am riding,
all about the country."
* * * * *
From the foregoing letters to Mr. Murray, we may collect some curious
particulars respecting one of the most original and sublime of the noble
poet's productions, the Drama of Manfred. His failure (and to an extent
of which the reader shall be enabled presently to judge), in the
completion of a design which he had, through two Acts, so
magnificently carried on,--the impatience with which, though
conscious of this failure, he as usual hurried to the press, without
deigning to woo, or wait for, a happier moment of inspiration,--his
frank docility in, at once, surrendering up his third Act to reprobation,
without urging one parental word in its behalf,--the doubt he evidently
felt, whether, from his habit of striking off these creations at a heat, he
should be able to rekindle his imagination on the subject,--and then,
lastly, the complete success with which, when his mind did make the

spring, he at once cleared