and his funeral procession
through London is the theme of a memorable passage in
Borrow's _Lavengro_. "Juan" is of course _Don Juan_.
"Allegra," his daughter by Jane (or as she re-christened
herself, Claire) Clairmont--step-daughter of Godwin, through
his second wife, and so a connection though no relation of
Mrs. Shelley--died at five years old. "Ada," his and Lady
Byron's only child, lived to marry Lord Lovelace, and
continued his blood to the present day. "Electra" works out
no further than the fact of her being the daughter of his
"_moral_ Clytemnestra," as he called Lady Byron, from her
having been almost as fatal to his reputation as the actual
Clytemnestra to her husband's life.

35. TO MR. MURRAY

Bologna, June 7. 1817.

Tell Mr. Hobhouse that I wrote to him a few days ago from Ferrara. It
will therefore be idle in him or you to wait for any further answers or
returns of proofs from Venice, as I have directed that no English
letters be sent after me. The publication can be proceeded in without,
and I am already sick of your remarks, to which I think not the least
attention ought to be paid.

Tell Mr. Hobhouse that since I wrote to him I had availed myself of my
Ferrara letters, and found the society much younger and better than that
at Venice. I am very much pleased with the little the shortness of my
stay permitted me to see of the Gonfaloniere Count Mosti, and his family
and friends in general.

I have been picture-gazing this morning at the famous Domenichino and
Guido, both of which are superlative. I afterwards went to the beautiful
cemetery of Bologna, beyond the walls and found, besides the superb
burial ground, an original of a Custode, who reminded me of the
gravedigger in _Hamlet_.

He has a collection of capuchins' skulls, labelled on the forehead, and
taking down one of them said "This is Brother Desiderio Birro, who died
at forty--one of my best friends. I begged his head of his brethren
after his decease, and they gave it me. I put it in lime and then boiled
it. Here it is, teeth and all, in excellent preservation. He was the
merriest, cleverest fellow I ever knew. Wherever he went he brought joy,
and whenever anyone was melancholy, the sight of him was enough to make
him cheerful again. He walked so actively, you might have taken him for
a dancer--he joked--he laughed--oh! he was such a Frate as I never saw
before, nor ever sha