crosses the threshold of a new life. He reappears later on the scene of all his woes, a broken, friendless stranger, in the person of Lara—that last phase, in which the poet discloses his identity with characteristic insouciance, brings the tragedy abruptly to a close.[45]
On January 6, 1814, Byron wrote a remarkable letter to Moore, at that time in Nottinghamshire:
‘... I have a confidence for you—a perplexing one to me, and just at present in a state of abeyance in itself.... [Here probably follows the disclosure.] However, we shall see. In the meantime you may amuse yourself with my suspense, and put all the justices of peace in requisition, in case I come into your county [Nottinghamshire] with hackbut bent.[46] Seriously, whether I am to hear from her or him, it is a pause, which I can fill up with as few thoughts of my own as I can borrow from other people. Anything is better than stagnation; and now, in the interregnum of my autumn and a strange summer adventure, which I don’t like to think of.... Of course you will keep my secret, and don’t even talk in your sleep of it. Happen what may, your dedication is ensured, being already written; and I shall copy it out fair to-night, in case business or amusement—Amant alterna Camœnæ.’
Byron here refers to ‘The Corsair,’ which he dedicated to Thomas Moore. In order to understand this letter, it may be inferred that one of the letters he had written to his lady-love had remained so long unanswered that Byron feared it might have fallen into her husband’s hands. Writing to Moore on the following day, Byron says:
‘My last epistle would probably put you in a fidget. But the devil, who ought to be civil on such occasions, proved so, and took my letter to the right place.... Is it not odd? the very fate I said she had escaped from * * * * she has now undergone from the worthy * * * *.’
An undated letter from Mary Chaworth, preserved among the Byron letters in Mr. Murray’s possession, seems to belong to this period:
‘Your kind letter, my dear friend, relieved me much, and came yesterday, when I was by no means well, and was a most agreeable remedy, for I fancied a thousand things.... I shall set great value by your seal, and, if you come down to Newstead before we leave Annesley, see no reason why you should not call on us and bring it....[47] I have lately suffered from a pain in my side, which has alarmed me; but I will not, in return for your charming epistle, fill mine with complaints.... I am surprised you have not seen Mr. Chaworth, as I hear of him going about a good deal. We [herself and Miss Radford] are now visiting very near Nottingham, but return to Annesley to-morrow, I trust, where I have left all my little dears except the eldest, whom you saw, and who is with me. We are very anxious to see you, and yet know not how we shall feel on the occasion—formal, I dare say, at the first; but our meeting must be confined to our trio, and then I think we shall be more at our ease. Do write me, and make a sacrifice to friendship, which I shall consider your visit. You may always address your letters to Annesley perfectly safe.
‘Your sincere friend,
‘Mary ——’
On or about January 7, 1814, Byron writes to his sister Augusta in reference to Mary Chaworth:
‘I shall write to-morrow, but did not go to Lady M.’s [Melbourne] twelfth cake banquet. M. [Mary] has written again—all friendship—and really very simple and pathetic—bad usage—paleness—ill-health—old friendship—once—good motive—virtue—and so forth.’