Byron to John Murray, from Venice, May 18th 1819

 

Dear Sir –  I write to you in haste and at past two in the morning – having besides had an accident.  In going about an hour and a half ago to a rendezvous with a Venetian Girl (unmarried and the daughter of one of their nobles) I tumbled into the Grand Canal – and not choosing to miss my appointment by the delays of changing – I have been perched in a balcony with my wet clothes on ever since – till this minute that on my return I have slipped into my dressing gown. – – – My foot slipped in getting into my Gondola to set out (owing {to} the cursed slippery steps of their palaces and in I flounced like a Carp  – and went dripping like a Triton to my Sea=nymph – and had to scramble up to a Grated window “Fenced with iron within and without” {Let} the Lover {get} in, {o}r the Lady {get} out.” She is a very dear friend of mine – and I have undergone some trouble on her account – for last winter the truculent tyrant her flinty=hearted father – having been informed by an infernal German Countess Vorsperg (their next neighbour) of our meetings – they sent a priest to me – and a Commissary of police – and they locked the Girl up – and gave her prayers and bread and water – and our connection was cut off for some time – but the father hath lately been laid up – and the brother is at Milan – and the mother falls asleep – and the Servants are naturally on the wrong side of the question – {and} there is no Moon at Midnight {just now} – so that we have lately been able to recommence; – the fair one is eighteen – her name Angelina – the family name of course I don’t tell you. –She proposed to me to divorce my mathematical wife – and I told her that in England we can’t divorce except for female infidelity – “and pray, (said she), how do you know what she may have {been} doing these last three years?” – I answered that I could not tell – but that the status of Cuckoldom was not quite so flourishing in Great Britain as with us here. – But – She said – “can’t you get rid of her?” – “not more than is done already” (I answered) – “you would not have me poison her?” – would you believe it? She made me no answer – is not that a true and odd national trait? – it spoke more than a thousand words – and yet this is a little, – pretty, – sweet tempered, – quiet, feminine being as ever you saw – but the Passions of a Sunny Soil are paramount to all other considerations; – an unmarried Girl naturally wishes to be married – if she can marry & love at the same time it is well – but at any rate She must love; – I am not sure that my pretty paramour was herself fully aware of the inference to be drawn from her dead Silence – but even the unconsciousness of the latent idea was striking to an Observer of the Passions – and I never {strike out} a thought of another’s or of my own – without trying to trace it to it’s Source. – I wrote to Mr . H. pretty fully about our matters – in a few days I leave Venice for Romagna – excuse this scrawl – for I write in a state of shivering {from} having sat in my dripping drapery – and {from} some other little accessories which {affect} this husk of our immortal Kernel –  let me know if you come out this Summer – that I may be in the way – and come to me – don’t go to an Inn – I do not know that I can promise you any pleasure “our way of life” is so different in these parts, to insure to myself a great deal in seeing you, and in endeavouring (however {vainly}) to prove to you that I am very truly yrs. ever [swirl signature]

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