[25] [{19}] [Compare The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto I, stanza ix. 9—
"And burning pride and high disdain
Forbade the rising tears to flow.">[
And strait he fell into a reverie.—[MS.]
——sullen reverie.—[D.]
[26] [Vide post, stanza xi. line 9, [note.]]
[w] Strange fate directed still to uses vile.—[MS. erased.]
Now Paphian jades were heard to sing and smile.—[MS. erased.]
Now Paphian nymphs——.—[D. pencil.]
[27] [The brass eagle which was fished out of the lake at Newstead in the time of Byron's predecessor contained, among other documents, "a grant of full pardon from Henry V. of every possible crime ... which the monks might have committed previous to the 8th of December preceding (Murdris, per ipsos post decimum nonum Diem Novembris, ultimo præteritum perpetratis, si quæ fuerint, exceptis)" (Life, p. 2, note). The monks were a constant source of delight to the Newstead "revellers." Francis Hodgson, in his "Lines on a Ruined Abbey in a Romantic Country" (Poems, 1809), does not spare them—
"'Hail, venerable pile!' whose ivied walls
Proclaim the desolating lapse of years:
And hail, ye hills, and murmuring waterfalls,
Where yet her head the ruin'd Abbey rears.
No longer now the matin tolling bell,
Re-echoing loud among the woody glade,
Calls the fat abbot from his drowsy cell,
And warns the maid to flee, if yet a maid.
No longer now the festive bowl goes round,
Nor monks get drunk in honour of their God.">[