Byron's tempestuous mind
is soothed under the
have been accostom'd to entwine
Byron's Olive-tree hill at St. Lazarus, as it is now
gymnastic exercises were sometimes violent, and
at others almost nothing. His body, like his
spirit, readily accommodated itself to all his inclinations.
During an entire
winter, he went out every morning alone to row himself to the island of the Armenians (a small island situated in the midst of a tranquil lake, and distant from Venice about half a league), to enjoy the society of those learned and hospitable monks, and to learn their difficult language; and, in the evening, entering again into his gondola, he went but only for a couple of hours into company. A second winter, whenever the water of the lake was violently agitated, he was observed to cross it, and landing on the nearest terra firma, to fatigue at least two horses whit riding.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Of his household frugalities I speak but on the authority of others; but it is not difficult to conceive that, with a restless spirit like his, which delighted always in having
something to conted with, and which, but a short time before, "for want," as he said, "of something craggy to break upon," had tortured itself with the study of the Armenian language,
he should, in default of all better excitement, find a sort of stir and amusement in the task of contesting, inch by inch, every encroachment of expense, and endeavouring to suppress what he himself calls
"That climax of all earthly ills,
The inflammation of our weekly bills".