網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

"she is rotten; she was never worth much.

[ocr errors]

"When I went the tour of the Lake in her "with Shelley and Hobhouse, she was nearly "wrecked near the very spot where St. Preux “and Julia were in danger of being drowned. "It would have been classical to have been lost

66

[ocr errors]

"there, but not so agreeable. Shelley was on "the Lake much oftener than I, at all hours ❝ of the night and day: he almost lived on it; "his great rage is a boat. We are both build"ing now at Genoa, I a yacht, and he an open boat."

[ocr errors]

We played at billiards till the carriage was announced, and I accompanied him in his drive. Soon after we got off the stones, we mounted our horses, which were waiting for us. Lord Byron is an admirable horseman, combining grace with the security of his seat. He prides himself much on this exercise. He conducted us for some miles till we came to a farm-house, were he practises pistol-firing every

[ocr errors]

evening. This is his favourite amusement, and may indeed be called almost a pursuit. He always has pistols in his holster, and eight or ten pair by the first makers in London carried by his courier. We had each twelve rounds of ammunition, and in a diameter of four inches he put eleven out of twelve shots. I observed his hand shook exceedingly. He said that when he first began at Manton's he was the worst shot in the world, and Manton was perhaps the best. The subject turned upon duelling, and he contended for its necessity, and quoted some strong arguments in favour of it.

"I have been concerned," said he, " in many "duels as second, but only in two as principal'; "one was with Hobhouse before I became in"timate with him. The best marksmen at a

66

target are not the surest in the field. Cecil's "and Stackpoole's affair proved this. They

.66

1

fought after a quarrel of three years, during "which they were practising daily. Stack

"poole was so good a shot that he used to cut "off the heads of the fowls for dinner as they He had every

"drank out of the coops about.

"wish to kill his antagonist, but he received "his death-blow from Cecil, who fired rather "first, or rather was the quickest shot of the "two. All he said when falling was, 'D- n "it, have I missed him?" Shelley is a much "better shot than I am, but he is thinking of metaphysics rather than of firing."

66

I understand that Lord Byron is always in better spirits after having culped (as he calls it) the targe often, or hit a five-paul piece, the counterpart of which is always given to the farmer, who is making a little fortune. All the pieces struck, Lord Byron keeps to put, as he says, in his museum.

We now continued our ride, and returued to Pisa by the Lucca gate.

"Pisa with its hanging tower and Sophia"like dome reminds me," said Lord Byron, "of an eastern place."

He then remarked the heavy smoke that rolled away from the city, spreading in the distance a vale of mist, through which the golden clouds of evening appeared.

"It is fine," said Lord Byron, "but no sun"sets are to be compared with those of Venice.

66

66

They are too gorgeous for any painter, and

defy any poet. My rides, indeed, would

"have been nothing without the Venetian sun"sets. Ask Shelley."

"Stand on the marble bridge," said Shelley, "cast your eye, if you are not dazzled, on its river glowing as with fire, then follow the graceful curve of the palaces on the Lung' Arno till the arch is naved by the massy dungeon-tower (erroneously called Ugolino's),

frowning in dark relief, and tell me if any thing can surpass a sunset at Pisa."

The history of one, is that of almost every day. It is impossible to conceive a more unvaried life than Lord Byron led at this period. I continued to visit him at the same hour daily. Billiards, conversation, or reading, filled up the intervals till it was time to take our evening drive, ride, and pistol-practice. On our return, which was always in the same direction, we frequently met the Countess Guiccioli, with whom he stopped to converse a few minutes.

He dined at half an hour after sunset, (at twenty-four o'clock;) then drove to Count Gamba's, the Countess Guiccioli's father, passed several hours in her society, returned to his palace, and either read or wrote till two, or three in the morning; occasionally drinking

C

« 上一頁繼續 »