and the frank outbreak of cordiality and gaiety with which he gave way to his feelings. It would be impossible, indeed, to convey to those who have not, at some time or other, felt the charm of his manner, any idea of what it could be when under the influence of such pleasurable excitement as it was most flatteringly evident he experienced at this mo

ment.

I was a good deal struck, however, by the alteration that had taken place in his personal appearance. He had grown fatter both in person and face, and the latter had most suffered by the change,having lost, by the enlargement of the features, some of that refined and spiritualized look that had, in other times, distinguished it. The addition of whiskers, too, which he had not long before been induced to adopt, from hearing that some one had said he had a faccia di musico,' as well as the length to which his hair grew down on his neck, and the rather foreign air of his coat and cap,-all combined to produce that dissimilarity to his former self I had observed in him. He was still, however, eminently handsome; and, in exchange for whatever his features might have lost of their high, romantic character, they had become more fitted for the expression of that arch, waggish wisdom, that Epicurean play of humour, which he had shown to be equally inherent in his various and prodigally gifted nature; while, by the somewhat increased roundness of the contours, the resemblance of his finely-formed mouth and chin to those of the Belvedere Apollo had become still more striking.

His breakfast, which I found he rarely took before three or four o'clock in the afternoon, was speedily despatched, his habit being to eat it standing, and

the meal in general consisting of one or two raw eggs, a cup of tea without either milk or sugar, and a bit of dry biscuit. Before we took our departure, he presented me to the Countess Guiccioli, who was at this time, as my readers already know, living under the same roof with him at La Mira; and who, with a style of beauty singular in an Italian, as being faircomplexioned and delicate, left an impression upon my mind, during this our first short interview, of intelligence and amiableness such as all that I have since known or heard of her has but served to confirm.

We now started together, Lord Byron and myself, in my little Milanese vehicle, for Fusina,—his portly gondolier Tita, in a rich livery and most redundant mustachios, having seated himself on the front of the carriage, to the no small trial of its strength, which had already once given way, even under my own weight, between Verona and Vicenza. On our arrival at Fusina, my noble friend, from his familiarity with all the details of the place, had it in his power to save me both trouble and expense in the different arrangements relative to the custom-house, remise, &c.; and the good-natured assiduity with which he bustled about in despatching these matters, gave me an opportunity of observing, in his use of the infirm limb, a much greater degree of activity than I had ever before, except in sparring, witnessed.

As we proceeded across the Lagoon in his gondola, the sun was just setting, and it was an evening such as Romance would have chosen for a first sight of Venice, rising with her tiara of bright towers' above the wave; while, to complete, as might be imagined, the solemn interest of the scene, I beheld it in company

VOL. II.

2 L

with him who had lately given a new life to its glories,

and sung of that fair City of the Sea thus grandly:

'I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs;

A palace and a prison on each hand:

I saw from out the wave her structures rise
'As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand:
'A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
' Around me, and a dying glory smiles
'O'er the far times, when many a subject land

Look'd to the winged lion's marble piles,

'Where Venice sat in state, throned in her hundred isles.' But, whatever emotions the first sight of such a scene might, under other circumstances, have inspired me with, the mood of mind in which I now viewed it was altogether the very reverse of what might have been expected. The exuberant gaiety of my companion, and the recollections,-anything but romantic, -into which our conversation wandered, put at once completely to flight all poetical and historical associations; and our course was, I am almost ashamed to say, one of uninterrupted merriment and laughter till we found ourselves at the steps of my friend's palazzo on the Grand Canal. All that had ever happened, of gay or ridiculous, during our London life together, his scrapes and my lecturings, our joint adventures with the Bores and Blues, the two great enemies, as he always called them, of London happiness, our joyous nights together at Watier's, Kinnaird's, &c. and that d-d supper of Rancliffe's which ought to have been a dinner,'—all was passed rapidly in review between us, and with a flow of humour and hilarity, on his side, of which it would have been difficult, even for persons far graver than I can pretend to be, not to have caught the contagion.

He had all along expressed his determination that I should not go to any hotel, but fix my quarters at his

house during the period of my stay; and, had he been residing there himself, such an arrangement would have been all that I most desired. But, this not being the case, a common hotel was, I thought, a far readier resource; and I therefore entreated that he would allow me to order an apartment at the Gran Bretagna, which had the reputation, I understood, of being a comfortable hotel. This, however, he would not hear of; and, as an inducement for me to agree to his plan, said that, as long as I chose to stay, though he should be obliged to return to La Mira in the evenings, he would make it a point to come to Venice every day and dine with me. As we now turned into the dismal canal, and stopped before his damp-looking mansion, my predilection for the Gran Bretagna returned in full force; and I again ventured to hint that it would save an abundance of trouble to let me proceed thither. But No-no,' he answered, I see you think you'll 'be very uncomfortable here; but you'll find that it is not quite so bad as you expect.'

As I groped my way after him through the dark hall, he cried out, 'Keep clear of the dog;' and before we had proceeded many paces farther, Take care, or that monkey will fly at you;'-a curious proof, among many others, of his fidelity to all the tastes of his youth, as it agrees perfectly with the description of his life at Newstead, in 1809, and of the sort of menagerie which his visitors had then to encounter in their progress through his hall. Having escaped these dangers, I followed him up the staircase to the apartment destined for me. All this time he had been despatching servants in various directions,-one, to procure me a laquais de place; another to go in quest of Mr. Alexander Scott, to whom he wished to give

me in charge; while a third was sent to order his Segretario to come to him. So, then, you keep a Secretary?' I said. 'Yes,' he answered, a fellow who 'can't write *-but such are the names these pompous 'people give to things.'

When we had reached the door of the apartment it was discovered to be locked, and, to all appearance, had been so for some time, as the key could not be found;-a circumstance which, to my English apprehension, naturally connected itself with notions of damp and desolation, and I again sighed inwardly for the Gran Bretagna. Impatient at the delay of the key, my noble host, with one of his humorous maledictions, gave a vigorous kick to the door and burst it open; on which we at once entered into an apartment not only spacious and elegant, but wearing an aspect of comfort and habitableness which to a traveller's eye is as welcome as it is rare. 'Here,' he said, in a voice whose every tone spoke kindness and hospitality,— 'these are the rooms I use myself, and here I mean to ' establish you.'

He had ordered dinner from some Tratteria, and while waiting its arrival-as well as that of Mr. Alexander Scott, whom he had invited to join us-we stood out on the balcony, in order that, before the daylight was quite gone, I might have some glimpses of the scene which the Canal presented. Happening to remark, in looking up at the clouds, which were still bright in the west, that what had struck me in Italian sunsets was that peculiar rosy hue- I had hardly pronounced the word 'rosy,' when Lord Byron, clapping his hand on my mouth, said, with a laugh,

The title of Segretario is sometimes given, as in this case, to a headservant or house-steward.