FOOTNOTES:

[265] [A revised version of the following "Advertisement" was prefixed to the First Edition (Printed for J. Murray, Albemarle Street, By T. Davison, Whitefriars, 1814), which was accompanied by Jacqueline:—

"The Reader—if the tale of Lara has the fortune to meet with one—may probably regard it as a sequel to the Corsair;—the colouring is of a similar cast, and although the situations of the characters are changed, the stories are in some measure connected. The countenance is nearly the same—but with a different expression. To the readers' conjecture are left the name of the writer and the failure or success of his attempt—the latter are the only points upon which the author or his judges can feel interested.

"The Poem of Jaqueline is the production of a different author and is added at the request of the writer of the former tale, whose wish and entreaty it was that it should occupy the first pages of the following volume, and he regrets that the tenacious courtesy of his friend would not permit him to place it where the judgement of the reader concurring with his own will suggest its more appropriate station."]

[ji] {328} Their refuge in intensity of thought.—[MS.]

[jj] {329} The sound of other voices than his own.—[MS.]

[270] ["The circumstance of his having at this time [1808-9] among the ornaments of his study, a number of skulls highly polished, and placed on light stands round the room, would seem to indicate that he rather courted than shunned such gloomy associations."—Life, p. 87.]

[271] [Compare—

"His train but deemed the favourite page
Was left behind to spare his age,
Or other if they deemed, none dared
To mutter what he thought or heard."

Marmion, Canto III. stanza xv. lines 19-22.]

[272] [Compare—

"Sweetly shining on the eye,
A rivulet gliding smoothly by;
Which shows with what an easy tide
The moments of the happy glide."

Dyer's Country Walk (Poetical Works of Armstrong, Dyer, and Green, 1858, p. 221).]

[273] {331} ["He used, at first, though offered a bed at Annesley, to return every night to Newstead, to sleep; alleging as a reason that he was afraid of the family pictures of the Chaworths."—Life, p. 27.]

[jk] ——knelt in painted prayer.—[MS.]

[jl] His aspect all that best becomes the grave.—[MS.]

[jm] {333} ——along the gallery crawl.—[MS.]

[jn] {334}

Opinion various as his varying eye
In praise or railing—never passed him by.—[MS.]

[jo] {335} ——gayest of the gay.—[MS.]

[274] [The MS. omits lines 313-382. Stanza xviii. is written on a loose sheet belonging to the Murray MSS.; stanza xix. on a sheet inserted in the MS. Both stanzas must have been composed after the first draft of the poem was completed.]

[jp] ——an inward scorn of all.—[MS.]

[275] {336} [Compare Coleridge's Lines to a Gentleman [William Wordsworth] (written in 1807, but not published till 1817), lines 69, 70—

"Sense of past youth, and manhood come in vain,
And genius given, and knowledge won in vain."]

[jq]

And left Reflection: loth himself to blame,
He called on Nature's self to share the shame.—[MS.]

[jr] And half mistook for fate his wayward will.—[MS.]

[276] [For Byron's belief or half-persuasion that he was predestined to evil, compare Childe Harold, Canto I. stanza lxxxiii. lines 8, 9, and note. Compare, too, Canto III. stanza lxx. lines 8 and 9; and Canto IV. stanza xxxiv. line 6: Poetical Works, 1899, ii, 74, 260, 354.]

[js] {337}

——around another's mind;
There he was fixed——.—[MS.]

[jt] {338}

That friendship, interest, aversion knew
But there within your inmost——.—[MS.]

[ju]

Yes you might hate abhor, but from the breast
He wrung an all unwilling interest—
Vain was the struggle, in that sightless net.—[MS.]

[jv] So springs the exulting spirit—.—[MS.]

[jw] {339} That question thus repeated—Thrice and high.—[MS.]

[jx] {340}

Art thou not he who——"
"Whatso'eer I be.—[MS.]

[jy] {342}

"Tomorrow!—aye—tomorrow" these were all
The words from Lara's answering lip that fall.—[MS.]

[jz] {343} That brought their native echoes to his ear.—[MS.]

[ka] From high and quickened into life and thought.—[MS.]

[kb] {344}

Though no reluctance checked his willing hand,
He still obeyed as others would command.—[MS.]

[kc]

To tune his lute and, if none else were there,
To fill the cup in which himself might share.—[MS.]

[kd] {345} Yet still existed there though still supprest.—[ms]

[ke] And when the slaves and pages round him told.—[ms]

[277] {346} [Compare—

"Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,
Which must be acted, ere they may be scanned."

Macbeth, act iii. sc. 4, lines 139, 140.]

[kf] {347} There lie the lover's hope—the watcher's toil.—[MS.]

[kg] And half-Existence melts within a grave.—[MS.]

[278] {348} [Compare—

Sotheby's Constance de Castile, Canto III. stanza v. lines 17, 18.]

[279] [Compare the last lines of Pippa's song in Browning's Pippa Passes—"God's in His Heaven, all's right with the world!"]

[280] [Mr. Alexander Dyce points out the resemblance between these lines and a passage in one of Pope's letters to Steele (July 15, 1712, Works, 1754, viii. 226): "The morning after my exit the sun will rise as bright as ever, the flowers smell as sweet, the plants spring as green."]

[kh] {349} When Ezzelin——.—[Ed. 1831.]

[ki] Here in thy hall——.—[MS.]

[281] {351} [Compare Mysteries of Udolpho, by Mrs. Ann Radcliffe, 1794, ii. 279: "The Count then fell back into the arms of his servants, while Montoni held his sword over him and bade him ask his life ... his complexion changed almost to blackness as he looked upon his fallen adversary."]

[kj] And turned to smite a foe already felled.—[MS.]

[kk] And he less calm—yet calmer than them all.—[MS.]

[kl] {353} ——the blind and headlong rage.—[MS.]

[km] {354}

The first impressions with his milder sway
Of dread——.—[MS.]

[kn] Mysterious gloom around his hall and state.—[MS.]

[ko] {355} The Beauty—which the first success would snatch.—[MS.]

[kp] {356}

A word's enough to rouse mankind to kill
Some factions phrase by cunning raised and spread.—[MS.]

[kq] {357} ——upon the battle slain.—[Ed. 1831.]

[kr] {358} But not endure the long protracted strife.—[MS. erased.]

[ks] {360} And raged the combat till——.—[MS.]

[282] {361} [Stanza XV. was added after the completion of the first draft of the poem.]

[283] [Compare—

"Il s'excite, il s'empresse, il inspire aux soldats
Cet espoir généreux que lui-même il n'a pas."

Voltaire, Henriade, Chant. viii. lines 127, 128,
Oeuvres Complêtes, Paris, 1837, ii. 325.]

[kt] {362} The stiffening steed is on the dinted earth.—[MS.]

[284] [Compare—

"There lay a horse, another through the field
Ran masterless."

Tasso's Jerusalem (translated by Edward Fairfax),
Bk. VII. stanza cvi. lines 3, 4.]

[ku] ——that glassy river lie.—[MS.]

[285] {364} [Stanza xix. was added after the completion of the poem. The MS. is extant.]

[kv] ——white lips spoke.—[MS.]

[kw] ——pale—and passionless.—[MS.]

[kx] {365}

That Life—immortal—infinite secure
To All for whom that Cross hath made it sure.—
[MS. First ed. 1814.]
or,
That life immortal, infinite and sure
To all whose faith the eternal boon secure.—[MS.]

[ky] But faint the dying Lara's accents grew.—[MS.]

[kz]

He gazed as doubtful that the thing he saw
Had something more to ask from Lone or awe.—[MS.]

[la] {367}

But all unknown the blood he lost or spilt
These only told his Glory or his Guilt.—[MS.]

[286] The event in this section was suggested by the description of the death or rather burial of the Duke of Gandia. "The most interesting and particular account of it is given by Burchard, and is in substance as follows:—'On the eighth day of June, the Cardinal of Valenza and the Duke of Gandia, sons of the pope, supped with their mother, Vanozza, near the church of S. Pietro ad vincula: several other persons being present at the entertainment. A late hour approaching, and the cardinal having reminded his brother that it was time to return to the apostolic palace, they mounted their horses or mules, with only a few attendants, and proceeded together as far as the palace of Cardinal Ascanio Sforza, when the duke informed the cardinal that, before he returned home, he had to pay a visit of pleasure. Dismissing therefore all his attendants, excepting his staffiero, or footman, and a person in a mask, who had paid him a visit whilst at supper, and who, during the space of a month or thereabouts, previous to this time, had called upon him almost daily at the apostolic palace, he took this person behind him on his mule, and proceeded to the street of the Jews, where he quitted his servant, directing him to remain there until a certain hour; when, if he did not return, he might repair to the palace. The duke then seated the person in the mask behind him, and rode I know not whither; but in that night he was assassinated, and thrown into the river. The servant, after having been dismissed, was also assaulted and mortally wounded; and although he was attended with great care, yet such was his situation, that he could give no intelligible account of what had befallen his master. In the morning, the duke not having returned to the palace, his servants began to be alarmed; and one of them informed the pontiff of the evening excursion of his sons, and that the duke had not yet made his appearance. This gave the pope no small anxiety; but he conjectured that the duke had been attracted by some courtesan to pass the night with her, and, not choosing to quit the house in open day, had waited till the following evening to return home. When, however, the evening arrived, and he found himself disappointed in his expectations, he became deeply afflicted, and began to make inquiries from different persons, whom he ordered to attend him for that purpose. Amongst these was a man named Giorgio Schiavoni, who, having discharged some timber from a bark in the river, had remained on board the vessel to watch it; and being interrogated whether he had seen any one thrown into the river on the night preceding, he replied, that he saw two men on foot, who came down the street, and looked diligently about to observe whether any person was passing. That seeing no one, they returned, and a short time afterwards two others came, and looked around in the same manner as the former: no person still appearing, they gave a sign to their companions, when a man came, mounted on a white horse, having behind him a dead body, the head and arms of which hung on one side, and the feet on the other side of the horse; the two persons on foot supporting the body, to prevent its falling. They thus proceeded towards that part where the filth of the city is usually discharged into the river, and turning the horse, with his tail towards the water, the two persons took the dead body by the arms and feet, and with all their strength flung it into the river. The person on horseback then asked if they had thrown it in; to which they replied, Signor, si (yes, Sir). He then looked towards the river, and seeing a mantle floating on the stream, he enquired what it was that appeared black, to which they answered, it was a mantle; and one of them threw stones upon it, in consequence of which it sunk. The attendants of the pontiff then enquired from Giorgio, why he had not revealed this to the governor of the city; to which he replied, that he had seen in his time a hundred dead bodies thrown into the river at the same place, without any inquiry being made respecting them; and that he had not, therefore, considered it as a matter of any importance. The fishermen and seamen were then collected, and ordered to search the river, where, on the following evening, they found the body of the duke, with his habit entire, and thirty ducats in his purse. He was pierced with nine wounds, one of which was in his throat, the others in his head, body, and limbs. No sooner was the pontiff informed of the death of his son, and that he had been thrown, like filth, into the river, than, giving way to his grief, he shut himself up in a chamber, and wept bitterly. The Cardinal of Segovia, and other attendants on the pope, went to the door, and after many hours spent in persuasions and exhortations, prevailed upon him to admit them. From the evening of Wednesday till the following Saturday the pope took no food; nor did he sleep from Thursday morning till the same hour on the ensuing day. At length, however, giving way to the entreaties of his attendants, he began to restrain his sorrow, and to consider the injury which his own health might sustain by the further indulgence of his grief.'"—Roscoe's Life and Pontificate of Leo Tenth, 1805, i. 265. [See, too, for the original in Burchard Diar, in Gordon's Life of Alex. VI., Append., "De Cæde Ducis Gandiæ," Append. No. xlviii., ib., pp. 90, 91.]

[lb] {370} A mighty pebble——.—[MS.]

[lc] That not unarmed in combat fair he fell.—[MS. erased.]

[ld] {371} ——some phantom wound.—[MS.]