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tion and constancy half redeemed its sin. But she, overwhelmed by grief at the sad parting, had been placed in a travelling carriage while almost in a state of insensibility: and was journeying towards Bologna, little conscious that he whom she would have given all she possessed on earth to see once more, was looking on the chamber she had left, and the flowers she had loved; his mind filled with a presentiment that they should never meet again.
I have always thought that Lord Byron had his own peculiar position in view, when he wrote
Sardanapalus;" for in it I find the deep emotions that agitated his breast towards two women at the same time. The least demonstration of affection, from his would have brought him, full of remorseful tenderness, to her feet; even while his heart owned and melted at the devotion of By dying only could he be faithful to both.
Such is one of the bitter consequences resulting from the violation of ties, never severed without retribution.
We sat for some time in the chamber in which Byron always wrote. Into this no one was permitted to enter while he occupied it; his door was locked, and a perfect stillness reigned around. Here he completed the “ Age of Bronze,” and the last cantos of - Don Juan.” Here also he wrote all the letters and the poems addressed to me, now in my possession.
We walked on the terrace, and in the garden where he so constantly walked : visited Il Paradiso, a charming villa near the Saluzzi, to which he once accompanied us, and in which he wrote an impromptu on the occasion. In short, we went over all his former haunts. Mrs. Barry played and sang to us in the evening, and with all woman's delicate tact selected music in unison with our feelings; to which her powerful and sweet voice, lent new charms.
Altogether, the day was one which I shall not easily forget : and Byron, could he have been aware of the kind and gentle feelings still entertained towards his memory, by those assembled in his former dwelling, would not have been sceptical of their friendship
Mr. and Mrs. Barry dined with us to-day, and in the evening we went to the opera. It offered nothing worthy of note; but the ballet, in which Mademoiselle Brignolle danced, was good. Her style is peculiar; she advances rapidly across the stage on the extreme point of her toes, without for a moment losing her a plomb, cuts into the air, and alights again on the point of her feet, as if she were no heavier than gossamer.
Lord and Lady Burghersh are arrived here, and are as popular at Genoa as in all other parts of Italy where they are known. They have done much to efface the impression entertained by Italians, that the English aristocracy are not much devoted to the
fine arts, or prone to encourage them; for Lady Burghersh is said to be not only a connoisseure in painting, but to have arrived at no mean excellence in it herself; while the kind-hearted and excellent Lord Burghersh is a proficient in music, and has composed some very charming things.
A circumstance occurred to-day which goes far to justify the good opinion I have always entertained of the Italians, since I have dwelt among them. A
. shoemaker, who when we were first at Genoa, resided in a small house in the flagged passage leading to the Alberga della Villa, used to work outside his door, plying his trade, and gaily singing ; while his only child, a little girl of two years old, used to toddle round him, sometimes holding a flower to his nose, or interrupting his occupation by her embraces. The mother, an interesting looking brunette, was wont to stand at her door knitting, or working; her eyes beaming with tenderness as she looked from the child to the father, who lavished on the playful little creature every epithet of love. We noticed this humble group continually, and they soon became accustomed to our faces; and would salute us with smiles and good wishes, expressed with that warmth peculiar to Italians. The child it was who first noticed us, or at least who first evinced her recognition ; for she would kiss her little hand, or hold out a flower for us to smell, and when our acquaintance had ripened into more familiarity,
would clap her hands with joy when she saw us approach. The father and mother, delighted with the playfulness and intelligence of their child, and flattered by our notice of her, would recount to us as we paused before their lowly dwelling, “ the sayings and doings” of their darling ; and tell how two babes, their first born, had been taken from them by God, before they had been able to articulate a word, or to walk.
“ Ah! it was a terrible thing, Signora, to see them carried out of this door, and I thought my poor
Teresina would have died when the last was snatched from us.”—“Do not mention it, anima mia, I cannot even now bear to think of it !” and the good Teresina raised her apron to her eyes. . The child ran to her mother and held up her little mouth to be kissed, and the father said, “ She is so sensible, Signora, she understands every thing, God bless her dear little heart !” _“ And she is so like her sister and brother, whom we lost, Signora, sobbed the mother, “that I sometimes fear she too may be taken from us.”_" Teresina, Teresina, do not think of any thing so dreadful !” and the father caught his child eagerly, and pressed her in his
I purchased some silver trinkets for the child, and among the rest was a medal of St. Teresa, her patron saint, to be worn round her neck. The delight of the parents could only be equalled by
their gratitude, and the little girl too, grew fonder
The morning we left Genoa this family group came to see us enter our carriages; and brought two beautiful bouquets for our acceptance.
We had much difficulty in inducing them to retain some money which we positively forced into their hands; and the tears flowed down their cheeks as they held up the child, and invoked blessings on us as we drove off.
We often spoke of these humble friends at Genoa, and when we returned in 1826, looked in vain for them. They had left the flagged passage near the Alberga della Villa, and had gone no one knew whither. The day after our arrival here, I encountered the laquais-de-place who had formerly served us; and offered him some reward if he could discover the abode of Teresina and her husband. He this day brought me the intelligence I sought, and led us to the dwelling of this worthy couple.
We found them in an obscure quarter of the town, and great was their joy at seeing us, though it was soon checked by grief; and they wept while telling us that the little Teresina, like her sister and brother, had been snatched from them. “But she lived long enough to be able to utter your names, Signora, and would kiss the medallion.” Here the poor Teresina drew the one I had given her child, from her bosom, and pressed it to her lips.