The Complete Autobiographical Writings of Sir Walter Scott. Walter Scott
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to take places liberally, and applaud with spirit. The King bowed much on entrance, and was received in a popular manner, which he has no doubt deserved, having relaxed many of his father’s violent persecutions against the Liberals, made in some degree an amnesty, and employed many of this character. He has made efforts to lessen his expenses; but then he deals in military affairs, and that swallows up his savings, and Heaven only knows whether he will bring [Neapolitans] to fight, which the Martinet system alone will never do. His health is undermined by epileptic fits, which, with his great corpulence, make men throw their thoughts on his brother Prince Charles. It is a pity. The King is only two-and-twenty years old.
The Opera bustled off without any remarkable music, and, so far as I understand the language, no poetry; and except the coup d’œil, which was magnificent, it was poor work. It was on the subject of Constantine and Crispus — marvellous good matter, I assure you. I came home at halfpast nine, without waiting the ballet, but I was dog-sick of the whole of it. Went to the Studij to-day. I had no answer to my memorial to the Minister of the Interior, which it seems is necessary to make any copies from the old romances. I find it is an affair of State, and Monsieur — — - can only hope it will be granted in two or three days; — to a man that may leave Naples tomorrow! He offers me a loan of what books I need, Annals included, but this is also a delay of two or three days. I think really the Italian men of letters do not know the use of time made by those of other places, but I must have patience. In the course of my return home I called, by advice of my valet de place, at a bookseller’s, where he said all the great messieurs went for books. It had very little the air of a place of such resort, being kept in a garret above a coach-house. Here some twenty or thirty odd volumes were produced by an old woman, but nothing that was mercantile, so I left them for Lorenzo’s learned friends. And yet I was sorry too, for the lady who showed them to me was very [civil], and, understanding that I was the famous Chevalier, carried her kindness as far as I could desire. The Italians understand nothing of being in a hurry, but perhaps it is their way.
January 24. — The King grants the favour asked. To be perfect I should have the books [out] of the room, but this seems to [hurt?] Monsieur Delicteriis as he, kind and civil as he is, would hardly [allow] me to take my labours out of the Studij, where there are hosts of idlers and echoes and askers and no understanders of askers. I progress, however, as the Americans say. I have found that Sir William Gell’s amanuensis is at present disengaged, and that he is quite the man for copying the romances, which is a plain black letter of 1377, at the cheap and easy rate of 3 quattrons a day. I am ashamed at the lowness of the remuneration, but it will dine him capitally, with a share of a bottle of wine, or, by ‘r lady, a whole one if he likes it; and thrice the sum would hardly do that in England. But we dawdle, and that there is no avoiding. I have found another object in the Studij — the language of Naples.
Jany. 2. — One work in this dialect, for such it is, was described to me as a history of ancient Neapolitan legends — quite in my way; and it proves to be a dumpy fat 12mo edition of Mother Goose’s Tales, with my old friends Puss in Boots, Bluebeard, and almost the whole stock of this very collection. If this be the original of this charming book, it is very curious, for it shows the right of Naples to the authorship, but there are French editions very early also; — for there are two — whether French or Italian, I am uncertain — of different dates, both having claims to the original edition, each omitting some tales which the other has.
To what common original we are to refer them the Lord knows. I will look into [this] very closely, and if this same copiator is worth his ears he can help me. My friend Mr. D. will aid me, but I doubt he hardly likes my familiarity with the department of letters in which he has such an extensive and valuable charge. Yet he is very kind and civil, and promises me the loan of a Neapolitan vocabulary, which will set me up for the attack upon Mother Goose. Spirit of Tom Thumb assist me! I could, I think, make a neat thing of this, obnoxious to ridicule perhaps; — what then! The author of Ma Sœur Anne was a clever man, and his tale will remain popular in spite of all gibes and flouts soever. So Vamos Caracci! If it was not for the trifling and dawdling peculiar to this country, I should have time enough, but their trifling with time is the devil. I will try to engage Mr. Gell in two researches in his way and more in mine, namely, the Andrea Ferrara and the Bonnet piece. Mr. Keppel Craven says Andrea de Ferraras are frequent in Italy. Plenty to do if we had alert assistance, but Gell and Laing Meason have both their own matters to puzzle out, and why should they mind my affairs? The weather is very cold, and I am the reverse of the idiot boy —
“For as my body’s growing worse,
My mind is growing better.”
Of this I am distinctly sensible, and thank God that the mist attending this whoreson apoplexy is wearing off.
I went to the Studij and copied Bevis of Hampton, about two pages, for a pattern. From thence to Sir William Gell, and made an appointment at the Studij with his writer tomorrow at ten, when, I trust, I shall find Delicteriis there, but the gentleman with the classical name is rather kind and friendly in his neighbour’s behalf.
January 26. — This day arrived (for the first time indeed) answer to last post end of December, an epistle from Cadell full of good tidings. Castle Dangerous and Sir Robert of Paris, neither of whom I deemed seaworthy, have performed two voyages — that is, each sold about 3400, and the same of the current year. It proves what I have thought almost impossible, that I might write myself [out], but as yet my spell holds fast.
I have besides two or three good things on which I may advance with spirit, and with palmy hopes on the part of Cadell and myself. He thinks he will soon cry victoria on the bet about his hat. He was to get a new one when I had paid off all my debts. I can hardly, now that I am assured all is well again, form an idea to myself that I could think it was otherwise.
And yet I think it is the public that are mad for passing those two volumes; but I will not be the first to cry them down in the market, for I have others in hand, which, judged with equal favour, will make fortunes of themselves. Let me see what I have on the stocks —
Castle Dangerous (supposed future Editions), £1000
Robert of Paris, “ “ “ 1000
Lady Louisa Stuart, “ “ “ 500
Knights of Malta, “ “ “ 2500
Trotcosianæ Reliquiæ, “ “ 2500
I have returned to my old hopes, and think of giving Milne an offer for his estate.
Letters or Tour of Paul in 3 vols. 3000
Reprint of Bevis of Hampton for Roxburghe Club,
Essay on the Neapolitan dialect,
February
February 10. — We went to Pompeii to-day: a large party, all disposed to enjoy the sight in this fine weather. We had Sir Frederick and Lady Adam, Sir William Gell, the coryphæus of our party, who played his part very well. Miss de la Ferronays, daughter of Monsieur le Duc de la Ferronays, the head, I believe, of the constitutional Royalists, very popular in France, and likely to be called back to the ministry, with two or three other ladies, particularly Mrs. Ashley, born Miss Baillie, very pretty indeed, and lives in the same house. The Countess de la Ferronays has a great deal of talent both musical and dramatic.
February 16. — Sir William Gell called and took me out tonight to a bookseller whose stock was worth looking over.
We saw, among the old buildings of the city, an ancient palace called the Vicaría, which is changed into a prison. Then a new palace was honoured with royal residence instead of the old dungeon. I saw also a fine arch called the Capuan gate, formerly one of the city towers, and a very pretty one. We advanced to see the ruins of a palace said to be a habitation of Queen Joan, and where she put her lovers to death chiefly by potions, thence into a well, smothering them, etc., and other little tenderly trifling matters of gallantry.
March