The chimney-pieces were
carved and emblazoned; and all, so far as I could judge, was in perfect
keeping, so that if a prince or noble of three centuries ago were to come
to lodge at Newstead Abbey, he would hardly know that he had strayed out
of his own century. And yet he might have known by some token, for there
are volumes of poetry and light literature on the tables in these royal
bedchambers, and in that of Henry VII. I saw The House of the Seven
Gables and The Scarlet Letter in Routledge's edition.
Certainly the house is admirably fitted up; and there must have been
something very excellent and comprehensive in the domestic arrangements
of the monks, since they adapt themselves so well to a state of society
entirely different from that in which they originated. The library is a
very comfortable room, and provocative of studious ideas, though lounging
and luxurious. It is long, and rather low, furnished with soft couches,
and, on the whole, though a man might dream of study, I think he would be
most likely to read nothing but novels there. I know not what the room
was in monkish times, but it was waste and ruinous in Lord Byron's.
Here, I think, the housekeeper unlocked a beautiful cabinet, and took out
the famous skull which Lord Byron transformed into a drinking-goblet. It
has a silver rim and stand, but still the ugly skull is bare and evident,
and the naked inner bone receives the wine. I should think it would hold
at least a quart,--enough to overpower any living head into which this
death's-head should transfer its contents; and a man must be either very
drunk or very thirsty, before he would taste wine out of such a goblet.
Pages:
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686