'Have you no other remedy than bleeding? There are many more die of the lancet than the lance,' said Byron, as he declined his doctor's proposal. On the following day he was perpetually shuddering, but he got up at his usual hour and transacted business. He did not, however, leave the house. On April 11 Byron resolved to ride out an hour before his usual time, fearing that, if he waited, he would be prevented by the rain. 'We rode for a long time in the olive woods,' says Gamba. 'Lambro, a Suliote officer, accompanied by a numerous suite, attended Byron, who spoke much and appeared to be in good spirits. 'The next day he kept his bed with an attack of rheumatic fever. It was thought that his saddle was wet; but it is more probable that he was really suffering from his previous exposure to the rain, which perhaps affected him the more readily on account of his over-abstemious mode of life.' The dates to which Gamba refers in the statement we have quoted were April 11 and 12. It is important to remark that in Fletcher's account, published in the _Westminster Review_, it is stated that the last time Byron rode out was on April 10. According to Parry, who supports Fletcher's opinion, Byron was very unwell on April 11, and did not leave his house. He had shivering fits, and complained of pains, particularly in his bones and head. 'He talked a great deal,' says Parry, 'and I thought in rather a wandering manner. I became alarmed for his safety, and earnestly begged him to try a change of air and scene at Zante.' Gamba, in his journal, says that Byron rose from his bed on April 13, but did not leave the house. The fever appeared to be diminished, but the pains in his head and bones continued. He was melancholy and irritable. He had not slept since his attack, and could take no other nourishment than a little broth and a spoonful or two of arrowroot. On the 14th he got out of bed at noon; he was calmer. The fever had apparently diminished, but he was very weak, and still complained of pains in his head. It was with the greatest difficulty, says Gamba, that the physicians dissuaded him from going out riding, which, in spite of the threatening weather, he desired to do. There seems at that time to have been no suspicion of danger, and it was even supposed by his doctors that the malady was under control. Byron himself said that he was rather glad of his fever, as it might cure him of his tendency to epilepsy. He attended to his correspondence as usual. Gamba says: 'I think it was on this day that, as I was sitting near him on his sofa, he said to me, "I was afraid I was losing my memory, and, in order to try, I attempted to repeat some Latin verses with the English translation, which I have not tried to recollect since I was at school. I remembered them all except the last word of one of the hexameters."'