"Ravenna, 8bre 8°, 1820.
"Foscolo's letter is exactly the thing wanted; firstly, because he
is a man of genius; and, next, because he is an Italian, and
therefore the best judge of Italics. Besides,
"He's more an antique Roman than a Dane;
that is, he is more of the ancient Greek than of the modern
Italian. Though 'somewhat,' as Dugald Dalgetty says, 'too wild and
sa_l_vage' (like 'Ronald of the Mist'), 'tis a wonderful man, and
my friends Hobhouse and Rose both swear by him; and they are good
judges of men and of Italian humanity.
"Here are in all _two_ worthy voices gain'd:
Gifford says it is good 'sterling genuine English,' and Foscolo
says that the characters are right Venetian. Shakspeare and Otway
had a million of advantages over me, besides the incalculable one
of being _dead_ from one to two centuries, and having been both
born blackguards (which ARE such attractions to the gentle living
reader); let me then preserve the only one which I could possibly
have--that of having been at Venice, and entered more into the
local spirit of it. I claim no more.
"I know what Foscolo means about Calendaro's _spitting_ at Bertram;
_that's_ national--the objection, I mean. The Italians and French,
with those 'flags of abomination,' their pocket handkerchiefs, spit
there, and here, and every where else--in your face almost, and
therefore _object_ to it on the stage as _too familiar_. But we who
_spit_ nowhere--but in a man's face when we grow savage--are not
likely to feel this. Remember _Massinger_, and Kean's Sir Giles
Overreach--
"Lord! _thus_ I _spit_ at thee and at thy counsel!
Besides, Calendaro does _not_ spit in Bertram's face; he spits _at_
him, as I have seen the Mussulmans do upon the ground when they are
in a rage. Again, he _does not in fact despise_ Bertram, though he
affects it--as we all do, when angry with one we think our
inferior. He is angry at not being allowed to die in his own way
(although not afraid of death); and recollect that he suspected and
hated Bertram from the first. Israel Bertuccio, on the other hand,
is a cooler and more concentrated fellow: he acts upon _principle
and impulse_; Calendaro upon _impulse_ and _example_.
"So there's argument for you.
"The Doge _repeats_;--_true_, but it is from engrossing passion,
and because he sees _different_ persons, and is always obliged to
recur to the _cause_ uppermost in his mind. His speeches are
long:--true, but I wrote for the _closet_, and on the French and
Italian model rather than yours, which I think not very highly of,
for all your _old_ dramatists, who are long enough too, God
knows:--_look_ into any of them.
"I return you Foscolo's letter, because it alludes also to his
private affairs. I am sorry to see such a man in straits, because I
know what they are, or what they were. I never met but three men
who would have held out a finger to me: one was yourself, the other
William Bankes, and the other a nobleman long ago dead: but of
these the first was the only one who offered it while I _really_
wanted it; the second from good will--but I was not in need of
Bankes's aid, and would not have accepted it if I had (though I
love and esteem him); and the _third_ --------.[82]
"So you see that I have seen some strange things in my time. As for
your own offer, it was in 1815, when I was in actual uncertainty of
five pounds. I rejected it; but I have not forgotten it, although
you probably have.
"P.S. Foscolo's Ricciardo was lent, with the _leaves uncut_, to
some Italians, now in villeggiatura, so that I have had no
opportunity of hearing their decision, or of reading it. They
seized on it as Foscolo's, and on account of the beauty of the
paper and printing, directly. If I find it takes, I will reprint it
_here_. The Italians think as highly of Foscolo as they can of any
man, divided and miserable as they are, and with neither leisure at
present to read, nor head nor heart to judge of any thing but
extracts from French newspapers and the Lugano Gazette.
"We are all looking at one another, like wolves on their prey in
pursuit, only waiting for the first falling on to do unutterable
things. They are a great world in chaos, or angels in hell, which
you please; but out of chaos came Paradise, and out of hell--I
don't know what; but the devil went _in_ there, and he was a fine
fellow once, you know.
"You need never favour me with any periodical publication, except
the Edinburgh Quarterly, and an occasional Blackwood; or now and
then a Monthly Review; for the rest I do not feel curiosity enough
to look beyond their covers.
"To be sure I took in the British finely. He fell precisely into
the glaring trap laid for him. It was inconceivable how he could be
so absurd as to imagine us serious with him.
"Recollect, that if you put my name to 'Don Juan' in these canting
days, any lawyer might oppose my guardian right of my daughter in
Chancery, on the plea of its containing the _parody_;--such are the
perils of a foolish jest. I was not aware of this at the time, but
you will find it correct, I believe; and you may be sure that the
Noels would not let it slip. Now I prefer my child to a poem at any
time, and so should you, as having half a dozen.
"Let me know your notions.
"If you turn over the earlier pages of the Huntingdon peerage
story, you will see how common a name Ada was in the early
Plantagenet days. I found it in my own pedigree in the reign of
John and Henry, and gave it to my daughter. It was also the name of
Charlemagne's sister. It is in an early chapter of Genesis, as the
name of the wife of Lamech; and I suppose Ada is the feminine of
_Adam_. It is short, ancient, vocalic, and had been in my family;
for which reason I gave it to my daughter."
[Footnote 82: The paragraph is left thus imperfect in the original.]
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