Microsoft Word Byron and Scott 1809-1824

161: The phrase is not in The Taming of the Shrew. 
162: Horace Walpole (Lord Orford). 
163: Unidentified. 
164: The Drummer, or The Haunted House, by Joseph Addison (1759). 

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For my Syren she never boded me either good or evil; by the man her companion had he been 
worth anything I should have preserved a beautiful little family property to which I was heir. I am my 
dear Lord Byron affectionately yours while 
WALTER SCOTT 
Pray do you see anything of Sir Humphrey
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or his Lady my gentle coz. She left Britain as I thought 
but poorly but has too much spirit to consent to be ill like other folks. 
Byron to Scott, from Pisa, May 4th 1822: 
(Source: Ms. not found; text from Moore’s Life II 592-4; LJ VI 55-9; QII 692-4; BLJ X 153-5) 
Byron answers the last item but one, and describes the Pisan Affray, with enclosed notes. This is his 
last known letter to Scott. 
Pisa, May 4. 1822. 
My dear Sir Walter, 
Your account of your family is very pleasing: would that I “could answer this comfort with the 
like!”
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but I have just lost my natural daughter, Allegra, by a fever. The only consolation, save time, 
is the reflection, that she is either at rest or happy; for her few years (only five) prevented her from 
having incurred any sin, except what we inherit from Adam. 
“Whom the gods love, die young.” 
I need not say that your letters are particularly welcome, when they do not tax your time and 
patience; and now that our correspondence is resumed, I trust it will continue. 
I have lately had some anxiety, rather than trouble, about an awkward affair here, which you may 
perhaps have heard of; but our minister has behaved very handsomely, and the Tuscan Government as 
well as it is possible for such a government to behave, which is not saying much for the latter. Some 
other English, and Scots, and myself, had a brawl with a dragoon, who insulted one of the party, and 
whom we mistook for an officer, as he was medalled and well mounted, &c. but he turned out to be a 
sergeant-major. He called out the guard at the gates to arrest us (we being unarmed); upon which I and 
another (an Italian) rode through the said guard; but they succeeded in detaining others of the party. I 
rode to my house and sent my secretary to give an account of the attempted and illegal arrest to the 
authorities, and then, without dismounting, rode back towards the gates, which are near my present 
mansion. Half-way I met my man vapouring away and threatening to draw upon me (who had a cane in 
my hand, and no other arms). I, still believing him an officer, demanded his name and address, and 
gave him my hand and glove thereupon. A servant of mine thrust in between us (totally without 
orders), but let him go on my command. He then rode off at full speed; but about forty paces further 
was stabbed, and very dangerously (so as to be in peril), by some Callum Beg
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or other of my people 
(for I have some rough-handed folks about me), I need hardly say without my direction or approval. 
The said dragoon had been sabring our unarmed countrymen, however, at the gate, after they were in 
arrest, and held by the guards, and wounded one, Captain Hay, very severely. However, he got his 
paiks
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—having acted like an assassin, and being treated like one. Who wounded him, though it was 
done before thousands of people, they have never been able to ascertain, or prove, nor even the 
weapon; some said a pistol, an air-gun, a stiletto, a sword, a lance, a pitchfork, and what not. They have 
arrested and examined servants and people of all descriptions, but can make out nothing. Mr. Dawkins, 
our minister, assures me, that no suspicion is entertained of the man who wounded him having been 
instigated by me, or any of the party. I enclose you copies of the depositions of those with us, and Dr. 
Craufurd, a canny Scot (not an acquaintance), who saw the latter part of the affair. They are in Italian. 
These are the only literary matters in which I have been engaged since the publication and row 
about “Cain;”—but Mr. Murray has several things of mine in his obstetrical hands. Another Mystery—
a Vision—a Drama—and the like. But you won’t tell me what you are doing—however, I shall find 
you out, write what you will. You say that I should like your son-in-law—it would be very difficult for 
me to dislike any one connected with you; but I have no doubt that his own qualities are all that you 
describe. 
I am sorry you don’t like Lord Orford’s new work. My aristocracy, which is very fierce, makes 
him a favourite of mine. Recollect that those “little factions” comprised Lord Chatham and Fox, the 
father, and that we live in gigantic and exaggerated times, which make all under Gog and Magog