I have been urging Shelley to translate it; but he said that the translator of ‘Wallenstein’ was the only person living who could venture to attempt it;—that he had written to Coleridge, but in vain. For a man to translate it, he must think as he does.”
“How do you explain,” said I, “the first line,—
‘The sun thunders through the sky’?”
“He speaks of the music of the spheres in Heaven,” said he, “where, as in Job, the first scene is laid.”
“Since you left us,” said Lord Byron, “I have seen Hobhouse for a few days. Hobhouse is the oldest and the best friend I have. What scenes we have witnessed together! Our friendship began at Cambridge. We led the same sort of life in town, and travelled in company a great part of the years 1809, 10, and 11. He was present at my marriage, and was with me in 1816, after my separation. We were at Venice, and visited Rome together, in 1817. The greater part of my ‘Childe Harold’ was composed when we were together, and I could do no less in gratitude than dedicate the
