If you had seen Lord Byron, you could scarcely disbelieve him—so beautiful a countenance I scarcely ever saw—his teeth so many stationary smiles—his eyes the open portals of the sun – things of light, and for light – and his forehead so ample, and yet so flexible, passing from marble smoothness into a hundred wreathes and lines and dimples correspondent to the feelings and sentiments he is uttering. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Table Talk.
I have some very “magnifique” Albanian dresses, the only expensive articles in this country. They cost 50 guineas each and have so much gold they would cost in England two hundred. Byron, Letter to his Mother, 12 November 1809.
Of all his fancy dress uniforms, Byron took special delight in this costume; thus turbaned and brocaded, he sat for his famous portrait by the painter Thomas Phillips…In his fantasy, Byron now became what he beheld: an Oriental potentate, powerful and free, to whom nothing was forbidden.” Benita Eisler, Byron.
Makes me think about Byron really differently!