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(1) Here follows in the original MS. : —
“My Mother is a high-born dame,
And much misliketh me;
She saith my riot bringeth shame
I had a sister once I ween,
But her fair face I have not seen
(2) [William Fletcher, the faithful valet; — who, after a service of twenty years, (“during which,” he says, “his Lord was more to him than a father,”) received the Pilgrim's last words at Missolonghi, and did not quit his remains, until he had seen them deposited in the family vault at Hucknell. This unsophisticated “yeoman” was a constant source of pleasantry to his master: —e.g. “Fletcher,” he says, in a letter to his mother “is not
“For who would trust the seeming sighs
Of wife or paramour?
We late saw streaming o'er.
Nor perils gathering near;
No thing that claims a tear,
valiant: he requires comforts that I can dispense with, and sighs for beer, and beef, and tea, and his wife, and the devil knows what besides. We were one night lost in a thunder-storm, and since, nearly wrecked. In both cases he was sorely bewildered; from apprehensions of famine and banditti in the first, and drowning in the second instance. His eyes were a little hurt by the lightning, or crying, I don’t know which. I did what I could to console him, but found him incorrigible. He sends six sighs to Sally. I shall settle him in a farm; for he has served me faithfully, and Sally is a good woman.” After all his adventures by flood and field, short commons included, this humble Achates of the poet has now established himself as the keeper of an Italian warehouse, in Charles Street, Berkeley Square, where, if he does not thrive, every one who knows anything of his character will say he deserves to do so. — El
(1) [Here follows in the original MS. :—
“Methinks it would my bosom glad,
To change my proud estate,
And be again a laughing lad
Since youth 1 scarce have pass'd an hour
Except sometimes in Lady's bower,
(2) [Originally, the “little page” and the “yeoman” were introduced in the following stanzas:“And of his train there was a henchman page, A peasant boy, who served his master well; And often would his pranksome prate engage Childe Harold's ear, when his proud heart did swell With sable thoughts that he disdain'd to tell.
XIV. On, on the vessel flies, the land is gone, And winds are rude in Biscay's sleepless bay. Four days are sped, but with the fifth, anon, New shores descried make every bosom gay; And Cintra's mountain greets them on their way, And Tagus dashing onward to the deep, His fabled golden tribute bent to pay; And soon on board the Lusian pilots leap, [reap. And steer 'twixt fertile shores where yet few rustics
xv. Oh, Christ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree' What goodly prospects o'er the hills expand : But man would mar them with an impious hand : And when the Almighty lifts his fiercest scourge 'Gainst those who most transgress his high command, With treble vengeance will his hot shafts urge Gaul's locusthost, and earth from fellest foemen purge.
Then would he smile on him, and Alwin smiled,
XVI. What beauties doth Lisboa (1) first unfold! Her image floating on that noble tide, Which poets vainly pave with sands of gold, But now whereon a thousand keels did ride Of mighty strength, since Albion was allied, And to the Lusians did her aid afford: A nation swoln with ignorance and pride, Wholick yet loathe the hand that waves the sword To save them from the wrath of Gaul's unsparing lord. (2) XVII. But whoso entereth within this town, That, sheening far, celestial seems to be, Disconsolate will wander up and down, "Mid many things unsightly to strange ee; For hut and palace show like filthily: The dingy denizens are rear'd in dirt; Ne personage of high or mean degree Doth care for cleanness of surtout or shirt, Though shent with Egypt's plague, unkempt, unwash'd; unhurt. (1) [“A friend advises Ulissipont, but Lisboa is the Portuguese word, consequently the best. Ulissipont is pedantic; and as I had lugged in Hellas and Eros not long before, there would have been something like an affectation of Greek terms, which I wished to avoid. On the submission of Izusitania to the Moors, they changed the name of the capital, which till then had been Ulisipo, or Lispo ; because, in the Arabic alphabet, the letter p is not used. Hence, I believe, Lisboa; whence, again, the French
Lisbonne, and our Lisbon, — God knows which the earlier corruption: ” Byron, MS.]
(2) [By comparing this and the thirteen following stanzas with the account of his progress which Lord Byron sent home to his mother, the reader will see that they are the exact echoes of the thoughts which oc. curred to his mind as he went over the spots described. – See the Notics of Lord Byron's Life, vol. i. p. 280 - El