"One evening, in the middle of a philosophical argument on the principle of utility, Silvio Pellico, a delightful poet, came in breathless haste to apprise Lord Byron that his friend and physician Polidori had been arrested. We instantly ran to the guard-house. It turned out that Polidori had fancied himself incommoded in the pit by the fur cap of the officer on guard, and had requested him to take it off, alleging that it impeded his view of the stage. The poet Monti had accompanied us, and, to the number of fifteen or twenty, we surrounded the prisoner. Every one spoke at once. Polidori was beside himself with passion, and his face red as a burning coal. Byron, though he too was in a violent rage, was on the contrary pale as ashes. His patrician blood boiled as he reflected on the slight consideration in which he was held. The Austrian officer ran from the guard-house to call his men, who seized their arms that had been piled on the outside. Monti's idea was excellent: 'Sortiamo tutti—restino solamente i titolati' (Let us all go out—only the men of title to remain). De Brême remained, with the Marquis di Sartirana, his brother, Count Confalonieri, and Lord Byron. These gentlemen having written their names and titles, the list was handed to the officer on guard, who instantly forgot the insult offered to his fur cap, and allowed Polidori to leave the guard-house. In the evening, however, the Doctor received an order to
