Title: Don Juan Author: Lord George Gordon Byron

DON JUAN by George Byron DEDICATION DEDICATION. BOB SOUTHEY! You 're a poet- Poet-laureate, And representative of all the race, Although 't is true that you turn'd out a Tory at Last,- yours has lately been a common case; And now, my Epic Renegade! what are ye at? With all the Lakers, in and out of place? A nest of tuneful persons, to my eye Like 'four and twenty Blackbirds in a pye;' 'Which pye being open'd they began to sing' (This old song and new simile holds good), 'A dainty dish to set before the King,' Or Regent, who admires such kind of food;And Coleridge, too, has lately taken wing, But like a hawk encumber'd with his hood,Explaining metaphysics to the nationI wish he would explain his Explanation. You, Bob! are rather insolent, you know, At being disappointed in your wish To supersede all warblers here below, And be the only Blackbird in the dish; And then you overstrain yourself, or so, And tumble downward like the flying fish Gasping on deck, because you soar too high, Bob, And fall, for lack of moisture, quite a-dry, Bob! And Wordsworth, in a rather long Excursion (I think the quarto holds five hundred pages), Has given a sample from the vasty version Of his new system to perplex the sages; 'T is poetry- at least by his assertion, And may appear so when the dog-star ragesAnd he who understands it would be able To add a story to the Tower of Babel. You- Gentlemen! by dint of long seclusion From better company, have kept your own At Keswick, and, through still continued fusion Of one another's minds, at last have grown To deem as a most logical conclusion, That Poesy has wreaths for you alone: There is a narrowness in such a notion, Which makes me wish you'd change your lakes for ocean. I would not imitate the petty thought, Nor coin my self-love to so base a vice,

For all the glory your conversion brought, Since gold alone should not have been its price. You have your salary; was 't for that you wrought? And Wordsworth has his place in the Excise. You're shabby fellows- true- but poets still, And duly seated on the immortal hill. Your bays may hide the baldness of your browsPerhaps some virtuous blushes;- let them goTo you I envy neither fruit nor boughsAnd for the fame you would engross below, The field is universal, and allows Scope to all such as feel the inherent glow: Scott, Rogers, Campbell, Moore, and Crabbe will try 'Gainst you the question with posterity. For me, who, wandering with pedestrian Muses, Contend not with you on the winged steed, I wish your fate may yield ye, when she chooses, The fame you envy and the skill you need; And recollect a poet nothing loses In giving to his brethren their full meed Of merit, and complaint of present days Is not the certain path to future praise. He that reserves his laurels for posterity (Who does not often claim the bright reversion) Has generally no great crop to spare it, he Being only injured by his own assertion; And although here and there some glorious rarity Arise like Titan from the sea's immersion, The major part of such appelants go To- God knows where- for no one else can know. If, fallen in evil days on evil tongues, Milton appeal'd to the Avenger, Time, If Time, the Avenger, execrates his wrongs, And makes the word Miltonic' mean 'sublime,' He deign'd not to belie his soul in songs, Nor turn his very talent to a crime; He did not loathe the Sire to laud the Son, But closed the tyrant-hater he begun. Think'st thou, could he- the blind Old Man- arise Like Samuel from the grave, to freeze once more The blood of monarchs with his prophecies, Or be alive again- again all hoar With time and trials, and those helpless eyes, And heartless daughters- worn- and pale- and poor; Would he adore a sultan? he obey The intellectual eunuch Castlereagh? Cold-blooded, smooth-faced, placid miscreant! Dabbling its sleek young hands in Erin's gore, And thus for wider carnage taught to pant, Transferr'd to gorge upon a sister shore, The vulgarest tool that Tyranny could want, With just enough of talent, and no more, To lengthen fetters by another fix'd, And offer poison long already mix'd.

An orator of such set trash of phrase Ineffably- legitimately vile, That even its grossest flatterers dare not praise, Nor foes- all nations- condescend to smile,Not even a sprightly blunder's spark can blaze From that Ixion grindstone's ceaseless toil, That turns and turns to give the world a notion Of endless torments and perpetual motion. A bungler even in its disgusting trade, And botching, patching, leaving still behind Something of which its masters are afraid, States to be curb'd and thoughts to be confined, Conspiracy or Congress to be madeCobbling at manacles for all mankindA tinkering slave-maker, who mends old chains, With God and man's abhorrence for its gains. If we may judge of matter by the mind, Emasculated to the marrow It Hath but two objects, how to serve and bind, Deeming the chain it wears even men may fit, Eutropius of its many masters,- blind To worth as freedom, wisdom as to wit, Fearless- because no feeling dwells in ice, Its very courage stagnates to a vice. Where shall I turn me not to view its bonds, For I will never feel them?- Italy! Thy late reviving Roman soul desponds Beneath the lie this State-thing breathed o'er theeThy clanking chain, and Erin's yet green wounds, Have voices, tongues to cry aloud for me. Europe has slaves, allies, kings, armies still, And Southey lives to sing them very ill. Meantime, Sir Laureate, I proceed to dedicate, In honest simple verse, this song to you. And, if in flattering strains I do not predicate, 'T is that I still retain my 'buff and blue;' My politics as yet are all to educate: Apostasy 's so fashionable, too, To keep one creed 's a task grown quite Herculean; Is it not so, my Tory, ultra-Julian? VENICE, September 16, 1818. CANTO_THE_FIRST CANTO THE FIRST. I WANT a hero: an uncommon want, When every year and month sends forth a new one, Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, The age discovers he is not the true one; Of such as these I should not care to vaunt, I 'll therefore take our ancient friend Don JuanWe all have seen him, in the pantomime, Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time. Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke, Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,

Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk, And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now; Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk, Followers of fame, 'nine farrow' of that sow: France, too, had Buonaparte and Dumourier Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier. Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau, Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette, Were French, and famous people, as we know: And there were others, scarce forgotten yet, Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau, With many of the military set, Exceedingly remarkable at times, But not at all adapted to my rhymes. Nelson was once Britannia's god of war, And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd; There 's no more to be said of Trafalgar, 'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd; Because the army 's grown more popular, At which the naval people are concern'd; Besides, the prince is all for the land-service, Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis. Brave men were living before Agamemnon And since, exceeding valorous and sage, A good deal like him too, though quite the same none; But then they shone not on the poet's page, And so have been forgotten:- I condemn none, But can't find any in the present age Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one); So, as I said, I 'll take my friend Don Juan. Most epic poets plunge 'in medias res' (Horace makes this the heroic turnpike road), And then your hero tells, whene'er you please, What went before- by way of episode, While seated after dinner at his ease, Beside his mistress in some soft abode, Palace, or garden, paradise, or cavern, Which serves the happy couple for a tavern. That is the usual method, but not mineMy way is to begin with the beginning; The regularity of my design Forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning, And therefore I shall open with a line (Although it cost me half an hour in spinning) Narrating somewhat of Don Juan's father, And also of his mother, if you 'd rather. In Seville was he born, a pleasant city, Famous for oranges and women- he Who has not seen it will be much to pity, So says the proverb- and I quite agree; Of all the Spanish towns is none more pretty, Cadiz perhaps- but that you soon may see; Don Juan's parents lived beside the river, A noble stream, and call'd the Guadalquivir.

His father's name was Jose- Don, of course,A true Hidalgo, free from every stain Of Moor or Hebrew blood, he traced his source Through the most Gothic gentlemen of Spain; A better cavalier ne'er mounted horse, Or, being mounted, e'er got down again, Than Jose, who begot our hero, who Begot- but that 's to come- Well, to renew: His mother was a learned lady, famed For every branch of every science known In every Christian language ever named, With virtues equall'd by her wit alone, She made the cleverest people quite ashamed, And even the good with inward envy groan, Finding themselves so very much exceeded In their own way by all the things that she did. Her memory was a mine: she knew by heart All Calderon and greater part of Lope, So that if any actor miss'd his part She could have served him for the prompter's copy; For her Feinagle's were an useless art, And he himself obliged to shut up shop- he Could never make a memory so fine as That which adorn'd the brain of Donna Inez. Her favourite science was the mathematical, Her noblest virtue was her magnanimity, Her wit (she sometimes tried at wit) was Attic all, Her serious sayings darken'd to sublimity; In short, in all things she was fairly what I call A prodigy- her morning dress was dimity, Her evening silk, or, in the summer, muslin, And other stuffs, with which I won't stay puzzling. She knew the Latin- that is, 'the Lord's prayer,' And Greek- the alphabet- I 'm nearly sure; She read some French romances here and there, Although her mode of speaking was not pure; For native Spanish she had no great care, At least her conversation was obscure; Her thoughts were theorems, her words a problem, As if she deem'd that mystery would ennoble 'em. She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue, And said there was analogy between 'em; She proved it somehow out of sacred song, But I must leave the proofs to those who 've seen 'em; But this I heard her say, and can't be wrong And all may think which way their judgments lean 'em, ''T is strange- the Hebrew noun which means "I am," The English always use to govern d__n.' Some women use their tongues- she look'd a lecture, Each eye a sermon, and her brow a homily, An all-in-all sufficient self-director, Like the lamented late Sir Samuel Romilly, The Law's expounder, and the State's corrector, Whose suicide was almost an anomaly-

as usual. In which not Envy's self a flaw discovers. 'T is pity learned virgins ever wed With persons of no sort of education. With no great love for learning. do the best they can. The world. like a lineal son of Eve. In short. Save thine 'incomparable oil. indeed. so unprepared. and innocence.the worst of all. wickedly inclined To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn'd. some said twoBut for domestic quarrels one will do. Or gentlemen.' And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard. And even the wisest. Don Jose. Or 'Coelebs' Wife' set out in quest of lovers. A great opinion of her own good qualities. Morality's prim personification. Where all was peace. Who chose to go where'er he had a mind. who. And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realities. And never dream'd his lady was concern'd. He was a mortal of the careless kind. And fans turn into falchions in fair hands. Neglect.One sad example more. Miss Edgeworth's novels stepping from their covers. and bliss (I wonder how they got through the twelve hours). she was a walking calculation. Grow tired of scientific conversation: .' Macassar! Perfect she was. But then she had a devil of a spirit. That you might 'brain them with their lady's fan. or the learn'd. hours. So far above the cunning powers of hell. Oh! she was perfect past all parallelOf any modern female saint's comparison. Or Mrs. though well born and bred. she was in her moralities. Where our first parents never learn'd to kiss Till they were exiled from their earlier bowers. And such. with all her merit. Trimmer's books on education. Her guardian angel had given up his garrison. And why and wherefore no one understands. requires a saint to bear it.' For she had not even one. To others' share let 'female errors fall. Whisper'd he had a mistress. and never on his guard. Went plucking various fruit without her leave. Even her minutest motions went as well As those of the best time-piece made by Harrison: In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her. And let few opportunities escape Of getting her liege lord into a scrape. and days. This was an easy matter with a man Oft in the wrong. Have moments. Now Donna Inez had. indeed. that 'All is vanity' (The jury brought their verdict in 'Insanity'). but as perfection is Insipid in this naughty world of ours.

His parents ne'er agreed except in doting Upon the most unquiet imp on earth. And then she had all Seville for abettors. Don Jose and the Donna Inez led For some time an unhappy sort of life. Inform us truly. 'T was surely no concern of theirs nor mine. others for old grudges. And so I interfered. Then advocates. All which might. Although their porter afterwards confess'dBut that 's no matter. down stairs. Yet when they ask'd her for her depositions. And then this best and weakest woman bore With such serenity her husband's woes. if occasion served. they 'd have sent young master forth To school. But if there 's anything in which I shine. and judges. not divorced. And open'd certain trunks of books and letters. had they been but both in Their senses. Until at length the smother'd fire broke out. But as he had some lucid intermissions. And gave no outward signs of inward strife. and in a single station. but their treatment was not kind.Oh! ye lords of ladies intellectual. Instead of quarrelling. be quoted. They lived respectably as man and wife. For little Juan o'er me threw. She kept a journal. No sort of explanation could be had. where his faults were noted. good-for-nothing. 'T is in arranging all my friends' affairs. A pail of housemaid's water unawares. And put the business past all kind of doubt. Wishing each other. Besides her good old grandmother (who doted). and with the best Intentions. Not any of the many could divine. Though several thousand people chose to try.which seem'd very odd. She next decided he was only bad. The hearers of her case became repeaters. have they not hen-peck'd you all? Don Jose and his lady quarrell'd.why. To teach him manners for the time to come. . But. I 'm a plain man. Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred. A little curly-headed. And mischief-making monkey from his birth. or had him soundly whipp'd at home. For neither of them could I ever find.curiosity. Not having of my own domestic cares.I don't choose to say much upon this head. I think the foolish people were possess'd. And tried to prove her loving lord was mad. For Inez call'd some druggists and physicians. Some for amusement. I loathe that low vice. inquisitors. Save that her duty both to man and God Required this conduct. and the worst 's behind. but dead.

their resurrection aids our glories By contrast.at least so they say: I ask'd the doctors after his diseaseHe died of the slow fever call'd the tertian. And left his widow to her own aversion. Don Jose died. And if your quarrels should rip up old stories.they were become traditional. Therefore his frailties I 'll no further scan Indeed there were not many more to tell. unluckily. who made matters worse. ('T were hard to tell upon a like occasion To whom it may be best to have recourseI can't say much for friend or yet relation): The lawyers did their utmost for divorce. 'What magnanimity!' No doubt this patience. That all the world exclaim'd. as you well know. According to all hints I could collect From counsel learned in those kinds of laws (Although their talk 's obscure and circumspect). . And help them with a lie or two additional. his servants sent away. He died: and most unluckily. A priest the other. if others hurt you. 'T is also pleasant to be deem'd magnanimous. and buried with him lay The public feeling and the lawyers' fees: His house was sold. and were not so peaceable As Numa's (who was also named Pompilius). and nobly chose Never to say a word about them moreCalmly she heard each calumny that rose. ah! he died. His death contrived to spoil a charming cause. The more so in obtaining our own ends. That I must say who knew him very well. Revenge in person 's certainly no virtue. And if his passions now and then outran Discretion. And what the lawyers call a 'malus animus' Conduct like this by no means comprehends. because. But. A thousand pities also with respect To public feeling. He had been ill brought up. But then 't is not my fault. Yet Jose was an honourable man. Then their relations.Just as the Spartan ladies did of yore. when the world is damning us. A Jew took one of his two mistresses. But scarce a fee was paid on either side Before. I 'm not to blame.no more is Any one else. and was born bilious. Is philosophic in our former friends. Besides. which is what we just were wishing all: And science profits by this resurrectionDead scandals form good subjects for dissection. And saw his agonies with such sublimity. Their friends had tried at reconciliation. which on this occasion Was manifested in a great sensation. Who saw their spouses kill'd.

But not a page of any thing that 's loose. and lands.Whate'er might be his worthlessness or worth. Ovid 's a rake. Save death or Doctors' Commons. at least all such as could be said To be the most remote from common use. and messuages. excepting natural history. and most of all the abstruse. He learn'd the arts of riding.so he died. all. she Resolved that Juan should be quite a paragon. The arts. An only son left with an only mother Is brought up much more wisely than another. sciences. Was ever suffer'd. Arts. And for their AEneids. Sagest of women. Or hints continuation of the species. especially the dead. Where all his household gods lay shiver'd round him: No choice was left his feelings or his pride. For Donna Inez dreaded the Mythology. no branch was made a mystery To Juan's eyes.since it can do no good on earthIt was a trying moment that which found him Standing alone beside his desolate hearth. and Odysseys. Was. In all these he was much and deeply read. The sciences. lest he should grow vicious. Iliads. And answer'd but to nature's just demands. I don't think Sappho's Ode a good example. which was fair. In case our lord the king should go to war again. even of widows. And so they were submitted first to her. fencing. Let 's own. that his breeding should be strictly moral. Juan was sole heir To a chancery suit. His classic studies made a little puzzle. gunnery.or a nunnery. Although Longinus tells us there is no hymn Where the sublime soars forth on wings more ample: . his dam from Aragon): Then for accomplishments of chivalry. Poor fellow! he had many things to wound him. Anacreon's morals are a still worse sample. as half his verses show him. His reverend tutors had at times a tussle. Were forced to make an odd sort! of apology. And saw into herself each day before all The learned tutors whom for him she hired. Much into all his studies she inquired. But that which Donna Inez most desired. The languages. with a long minority and care. And how to scale a fortress. And worthy of the noblest pedigree (His sire was of Castile. Dying intestate. Who in the earlier ages raised a bustle. Promised to turn out well in proper hands: Inez became sole guardian. But never put on pantaloons or bodices. Because of filthy loves of gods and goddesses. Which. Catullus scarcely has a decent poem.

For speaking out so plainly in his song. He did not take such studies for restraints.But Virgil's songs are pure. from out the schoolboy's vision. To meet the ingenuous youth of future ages. but. But how faith is acquired. and lives of all the saints. For there we have them all 'at one fell swoop. fearful to deface Too much their modest bard by this omission. They only add them all in an appendix. Could turn their optics to the text and pray. too. was a seal'd book to little JuanI can't but say that his mamma was right. The Missal too (it was the family Missal) Was ornamented in a sort of way Which ancient mass-books often are. Who saw those figures on the margin kiss all.and not so decent either. Her maids were old. and this all Kinds of grotesques illumined.' Instead of being scatter'd through the Pages. You might be sure she was a perfect fright.' Lucretius' irreligion is too strong. She scarcely trusted him from out her sight. who place Judiciously. So well not one of the aforesaid paints As Saint Augustine in his fine Confessions. Which make the reader envy his transgressions. Young Juan wax'd in goodliness and grace. and at eleven With all the promise of as fine a face As e'er to man's maturer growth was given: . Instead of standing staring all together. She did this during even her husband's lifeI recommend as much to every wife. And homilies. So much indeed as to be downright rude. Till some less rigid editor shall stoop To call them back into their separate cages. Like garden gods. At six a charming child. For early stomachs. Which saves. Sermons he read. They stand forth marshall'd in a handsome troop. the trouble of an index. If such an education was the true one. and if she took a new one. and how they. And pitying sore his mutilated case. and gave her son another. The grosser parts. To Jerome and to Chrysostom inured. This.But Don Juan's mother Kept this herself. and then ensured. in fact. Is more than I know. to prove wholesome food. except that horrid one Beginning with 'Formosum Pastor Corydon. I can't help thinking Juvenal was wrong. and lectures he endured. Although no doubt his real intent was good. And then what proper person can be partial To all those nauseous epigrams of Martial? Juan was taught from out the best edition. Expurgated by learned men.

There was the Donna Julia.He studied steadily.but 'Verbum sat.no. I said. slender. No. and his mother's joy Was to declare how sage. and steady. in the right road to heaven. For there it was I pick'd up my own knowledge. even in jest. Tall. as well as most. all Selected for discretion and devotion. or his bow to Cupid (But this last simile is trite and stupid). and have some skill In character. but well knit: he seem'd Active. I know That sons should not be educated so. at least.but it would not be fair From sire to son to augur good or ill: He and his wife were an ill-sorted pairBut scandal 's my aversion. Knowledge of matters. For my part I say nothing. Her zone to Venus. the other Between his tutors. At twelve he was a fine. Young Juan now was sixteen years of age.' I think I pick'd up too. or salt to ocean. But what I say is neither here nor there: I knew his father well. confessor. Her young philosopher was grown already. Though I acquired. for to be precocious Was in her eyes a thing the most atrocious.I 'd send him out betimes to college. At least it seem'd so.but This I will say.nothing. As well as all the Greek I since have lost: I say that there 's the place. The darkness of her Oriental eye Accorded with her Moorish origin . I had my doubts.but I pass over that. but quiet boy. Amongst her numerous acquaintance. And seem'd. Although in infancy a little wild. At six. as a page.but. and still. he was a charming child. though not so sprightly. For half his days were pass'd at church. whom to call Pretty were but to give a feeble notion Of many charms in her as natural As sweetness to the flower. 'T is not with Donna Inez I would shut Him up to learn his catechism alone. They tamed him down amongst them: to destroy His natural spirit not in vain they toil'd. and mother. handsome. but she flew in a rage And bit her lips (for else she might have scream'd) If any said so.'t is not for me to boast. And everybody but his mother deem'd Him almost man.but no matter whatI never married. For there one learns. I think. perhaps I have them still. and grew apace.I protest Against all evil speaking.my reasons are my ownThat if I had an only son to put To school (as God be praised that I have none).

And yet. This heathenish cross restored the breed again. the race went on Improving still through every generation. Ruin'd its blood. And love than either. you know.nay. she. Her eyebrow's shape was like th' aerial bow. But would have been. perhaps.I hate a dumpy woman. and nieces. She married (I forget the pedigree) With an Hidalgo. Wedded she was some years. I think. . but much improved its flesh. some stay'd in Spain. and there would arise A something in them which was not desire. this is a sort of sin). At such alliances his sires would frown. In that point so precise in each degree That they bred in and in. who transmitted down His blood less noble than such blood should be. in sooth. Boabdil wept. of Donna Julia's kin Some went to Africa. Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow Bright with intelligence. but for the soul Which struggled through and chasten'd down the whole. Which always spoils the breed. instead of such a ONE 'T were better to have TWO of five-and-twenty. and. As if her veins ran lightning. Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth. and such husbands are in plenty. In Spain. The sons no more were short. and twenty-three.' Ladies even of the most uneasy virtue Prefer a spouse whose age is short of thirty. However this might be. 'T is said that Donna Julia's grandmamma Produced her Don more heirs at love than law. and to a man Of fifty. suppressing half its fire Until she spoke. Mounting at times to a transparent glow. For from a root the ugliest in Old Spain Sprung up a branch as beautiful as fresh. then through its soft disguise Flash'd an expression more of pride than ire. forced to fly. and she Was married. Her eye (I 'm very fond of handsome eyes) Was large and dark. Who left an only daughter. my narration May have suggested that this single one Could be but Julia (whom on this occasion I shall have much to speak about). Possess'd an air and grace by no means common: Her stature tall. When proud Granada fell. and fair. Marrying their cousins. and smooth. the daughters plain: But there 's a rumour which I fain would hush. chaste. Until it centred in an only son. 'mi vien in mente. Especially in countries near the sun: And now I think on 't. as might be shown. if it increases. charming. by the by. their aunts. Her great-great-grandmamma chose to remain.(Her blood was not all Spanish.

Where juries cast up what a wife is worth. But will keep baking.yet I never could see whyWith Donna Inez quite a favourite friend. I can't tell whether Julia saw the affair With other people's eyes. without a rag on. A man well looking for his years. and harmless styled. Suffering each other's foibles by accord. And not exactly either one or two. broiling. but none could be aware Of this. Because it is a marketable vice. Happy the nations of the moral North! Where all is virtue. Caress'd him often. Between their tastes there was small sympathy. who must pay a handsome price. Who cannot leave alone our helpless clay. She kept her counsel in so close a way. Perhaps she did not know. And if she could not (who can?) silence scandal. and who Was neither much beloved nor yet abhorr'd: They lived together. and gods adultery. Julia was. By laying whate'er sum in mulct they please on The lover. as a pretty child. and thirteen he. as most people do. And complimented Don Alfonso's taste. But I am not so sure I should have smiled When he was sixteen. shivering forth ('T was snow that brought St. though he did not show it. at least no symptom e'er was shown. and. Indifferent from the first or callous grown: I 'm really puzzled what to think or say. For malice still imputes some private end) That Inez had. . Alfonso was the name of Julia's lord. The flesh is frail. When she had twenty years. burning on. And certainly this course was much the best: She flatter'd Julia with her sage protection. For jealousy dislikes the world to know it. That howsoever people fast and pray. and so the soul undone: What men call gallantry.'T is a sad thing. or if her own Discoveries made.such a thing might be Quite innocently done. Is much more common where the climate 's sultry. Forgot with him her very prudent carriage. And all the fault of that indecent sun. I cannot choose but say. and the winter season Sends sin. Juan she saw. And that still keeping up the old connection. Anthony to reason). Julia twenty-three. She took his lady also in affection. Which time had lately render'd much more chaste. At least she left it a more slender handle. ere Don Alfonso's marriage. Yet he was jealous. or did not care. For not a line had Julia ever penn'd: Some people whisper but no doubt they lie.

their greetings almost dumb. Then there were sighs. And in whatever aspect it arrays Itself. Of which young passion cannot be bereft. And if she met him. Poor Julia's heart was in an awkward state. he had no more notion Than he who never saw the sea of ocean. Coldness or anger. thrilling. religion's. that to the mind 'T was but a doubt. And next day paid a visit to his mother. the youth shy. Their looks cast down. let in another. Her resolutions were most truly great. And will not dare to trust itself with truth. they had become Changed. For honour's. Tremblings when met. And almost might have made a Tarquin quake: She pray'd the Virgin Mary for her grace. though she smiled no more. As if her heart had deeper thoughts in store She must not own. virtue's sake. it displays Its workings through the vainly guarded eye. . She felt it going. But as for Juan. She look'd a sadness sweeter than her smile. and still too late. though for no transgression. yet betrays Even by its darkness. And love is taught hypocrisy from youth. so very slight. for the dame grew distant. All these are little preludes to possession. Are masks it often wears. pride's. And tremulously gentle her small hand Withdrew itself from his. And merely tend to show how greatly love is Embarrass'd at first starting with a novice. and so bland And slight. As being the best judge of a lady's case. but cherish'd more the while For that compression in its burning core. 't is still the same hypocrisy. Even innocence itself has many a wile. and restlessness when left. by the Virgin's grace. Yet Julia's very coldness still was kind. Particularly amongst sun-burnt nations. Which. Whate'er the cause might be. And much embarrassment in either eye. She vow'd she never would see Juan more. and resolved to make The noblest efforts for herself and mate.These few short years make wondrous alterations. but left behind A little pressure. And burning blushes. But passion most dissembles. but ne'er magician's wand Wrought change with all Armida's fairy art Like what this light touch left on Juan's heart. And look'd extremely at the opening door. And stolen glances. sweeter for the theft. as the blackest sky Foretells the heaviest tempest. the deeper for suppression. even disdain or hate. There surely will be little doubt with some That Donna Julia knew the reason why.

her purity of soulShe. for the future of her strength convinced.she should discover That all within was not so very well. And. For my part. Was Julia's innocent determination In young Don Juan's favour. Fraught with this fine intention.and thought so. surely. with what sweet persuasion He might be taught. lighted at too pure a shrine to dim its Ethereal lustre. that we must feel upon occasion For people who are pleasanter than others. and may exist Between young persons without any danger. then. or mole. But whether Julia to the task was equal Is that which must be mention'd in the sequel. but love within its proper limits. it can be no other. And even if by chance. perfect. A hand may first.' Thus Julia said. were I the man On whom her reveries celestial ran. with a stripling of sixteen . And so I 'd have her think. and be the better when they 're over. and to him its Exertion might be useful on occasion. But then they only seem so many brothers. if still free. to be sure. and well fenced In mail of proof. And then there are such things as love divine. Exceeding sagely from that hour dispensed With any kind of troublesome control. that such or such a lover Might please perhaps. She now determined that a virtuous woman Should rather face and overcome temptation. and then a lip be kist. Love. and yet a little soreAgain it opens.and who can tell? The devil 's so very sly. But hear these freedoms form the utmost list Of all o'er which such love may be a ranger: If people go beyond. by love and her togetherI really don't know what. Bright and immaculate. 't is quite a crime.No! I 'm afraid That night the Virgin was no further pray'd. And that her honour was a rock. And matrons who would be no less secure. nor Julia either. And.Grateful she was. 't is but denial: I recommend young ladies to make trial. Platonic. That is to say. That flight was base and dastardly. Such as the angels think so very fine. 'T is surely Juan now. 'just such love as mine. And. But not my fault. And if the man should ask. Such love is innocent. unmix'd and pure. a thought beyond the common Preference. and no man Should ever give her heart the least sensation.I tell them all in time. to such doings I 'm a stranger. Her plan she deem'd both innocent and feasible. a virtuous wife can quell Such thoughts.

not A hermit's. or may find. for Julia thought In French.' as we knew all that before. But then. By solitude I mean a sultan's. and thus appeals To the good sense and senses of mankind. (This should be entre nous. could not be great. 'Oh Love! in such a wilderness as this. His home deserted for the lonely wood. But Heaven forbid that such a thought should cross Her brain. Where transport and security entwine. satisfied to mean Nothing but what was good. Here is the empire of thy perfect bliss. her breast was peaceableA quiet conscience makes one so serene! Christians have burnt each other. The poet meant. I only say suppose it. restless.I won't say more about 'entwined' Or 'transport. might grow charming. plunged in solitude: I 'm fond myself of solitude or so.. with a haram for a grot. idle. For he would learn the rudiments of love.inter nos. He puzzled over what he found a new one. And in the interim (to pursue this vision) The mischief. and never hit the true one. Which. So much for Julia. though in a dream! (and then she sigh'd) Never could she survive that common loss. and not at all alarming. That no one likes to be disturb'd at meals Or love. His. Even seven years hence it would not be too late. I mean the seraph way of those above. But beg 'Security' will bolt the door. For that same twining 'transport and security' Are twisted to a phrase of some obscurity. In feelings quick as Ovid's Miss Medea. quite persuaded That all the Apostles would have done as they did. . Poor little fellow! he had no idea Of his own case. Or if they did so. And here thou art a god indeed divine. But just suppose that moment should betide. with a little patience. Silent and pensive.Not scandal's fangs could fix on much that 's seizable. Now we 'll turn to Juan. With the exception of the second line. But not as yet imagined it could be Thing quite in course. after all. As all have found on trial. but then the rhyme would go for naught.) I only say suppose this supposition: Juan being then grown up to man's estate Would fully suit a widow of condition. no doubt. I beg it may be understood. And if in the mean time her husband died. Tormented with a wound he could not know.' The bard I quote from does not sing amiss. slow. The very thing which every body feels. like all deep grief.

So by the poesy of his own mind Over the mystic leaf his soul was shook.Young Juan wander'd by the glassy brooks. he did the best he could With things not very subject to control. so pursued His self-communion with his own high soul. And how the goddesses came down to men: He miss'd the pathway. He thought about himself. He pored upon the leaves. And turn'd. though not the whole Of its disease.And then he thought of Donna Julia's eyes. He. and aspirations high. Sometimes he turn'd to gaze upon his book. they prove unintelligible. and then He thought of wood-nymphs and immortal bowers. and of wars. Could yield his spirit that for which it panted. like Wordsworth. or Garcilasso.by the wind Even as the page is rustled while we look. and on the flowers. How many miles the moon might have in girth. and of the many bars To perfect knowledge of the boundless skies. Which some are born with. and the whole earth Of man the wonderful. He found how much old Time had been a winnerHe also found that he had lost his dinner. nor knowing what he wanted. in its great mood. Nor glowing reverie. And hear the heart beat with the love it granted. And every now and then we read them through. . As if 't were one whereon magicians bind Their spells. Boscan. they know not why: 'T was strange that one so young should thus concern His brain about the action of the sky. but the most part learn To plague themselves withal. and of the stars. If you think 't was philosophy that this did. he threw Himself at length within the leafy nooks Where the wild branch of the cork forest grew. Unless. And then he thought of earthquakes. Until his mighty heart. Of air-balloons. Thinking unutterable things. In thoughts like these true wisdom may discern Longings sublime. There poets find materials for their books. into a metaphysician. nor poet's lay. without perceiving his condition. Juan (and not Wordsworth). I can't help thinking puberty assisted. he forgot the hours. According to some good old woman's tale. A bosom whereon he his head might lay. Like Coleridge. and give them to the passing gale. Thus would he while his lonely hours away Dissatisfied. And when he look'd upon his watch again.. So that their plan and prosody are eligible. Had mitigated part. And how the deuce they ever could have birth. And heard a voice in all the winds.

at least. could not. And stand convicted of more truth than treason. Thus parents also are at times short-sighted. and think no man Should rashly quote. and year. and not his folly. And so is spring about the end of May. the father swears. In case he thought his wife too great a prize.March has its hares. Is.) I say. a summer's day.gentlemen. and so clear Of sight. Those lonely walks. on this occasion. for fear of a mistake. where the Fates . The last indeed 's infallibly the case: And when the spouse and friend are gone off wholly. and May must have its heroine.the sixth of June:I like to be particular in dates. Young Hopeful's mistress. like all very clever people. I need not mention yet. but moon. and lengthening reveries. But still no less suspects in the wrong place.With. For instance. But what that motive was. They make some blunder. This may seem strange. whose ladies take Leave to o'erstep the written rights of woman. Jealous of some one who had no such wishes. Or. Perhaps to finish Juan's education. She saw that Juan was not at his ease. And wonders why the devil he got heirs. It was upon a day. which their ladies tell us. Or which. when these same gentlemen are jealous. which I forget. But that which chiefly may. The sun. A real husband always is suspicious. That there are months which nature grows more merry in. and must surprise. By harbouring some dear friend extremely vicious. Or pandering blindly to his own disgrace. I sha'n't say here.Summer's indeed a very dangerous season. but yet 't is very common. Perhaps to open Don Alfonso's eyes. or would not. that the Donna Inez did not tease Her only son with question or surmise: Whether it was she did not see. no doubt. or Miss Fanny's lover. He wonders at their vice. they ne'er discover. Till some confounded escapade has blighted The plan of twenty years. But Inez was so anxious. And then the mother cries. that I must think.Which commandment is 't they break? (I have forgot the number. But whatsoe'er the cause is. The while the wicked world beholds delighted. Not only of the age. Could not escape the gentle Julia's eyes. And break the. one may say. 'T was on a summer's day. They are a sort of post-house. and all is over. Though watchful as the lynx.several other things. She had some other motive much more near For leaving Juan to this new temptation. is the prevailing reason.

When people say. thieves commit their crimes. A good deal may be bought for fifty Louis. At fifty love for love is rare. And even if I knew. I should not tellPeople should hold their tongues in any case. Excepting the post-obits of theology. and very often do. No matter how or why the thing befell. the snowy and the sunny. For Don Alfonso. When poets say. Julia had honour.' They mean to scold. And then of Don Alfonso's fifty years: I wish these last had not occurr'd. Unconsciously she lean'd upon the other. Leaving at last not much besides chronology. With all the trophies of triumphant songHe won them well. truth. Which play'd within the tangles of her hair: . And while she ponder'd this.perhaps still nearer sevenWhen Julia sate within as pretty a bower As e'er held houri in that heathenish heaven Described by Mahomet. Quite by mistake. whate'er it may in money. And of the folly of all prudish fears.Change horses. Because that number rarely much endears. So was her creed in her own innocence. 't is true. and yet she felt no wrong. Victorious virtue. and domestic truth. How self-deceitful is the sagest part Of mortals whom thy lure hath led alongThe precipice she stood on was immense. 'I've written fifty rhymes. She thought of her own strength. She never would disgrace the ring she wore. about the hour Of half-past six. face to faceWhen two such faces are so. but not alone. To whom the lyre and laurels have been given. Sounds ill in love. no doubt. virtue.' They make you dread that they 'll recite them too. to shut their eyes. And through all climes. But there were she and Juan. 't would be wise. I know not well How this same interview had taken place. 'I've told you fifty times. Strengthening the weak. How beautiful she look'd! her conscious heart Glow'd in her cheek. In gangs of fifty. it equally as true is. and she inly swore. and Juan's youth. But very difficult. Nor leave a wish which wisdom might reprove. Then spur away o'er empires and o'er states. and trampling on the strong. 'T was on the sixth of June. But then. and Anacreon Moore. One hand on Juan's carelessly was thrown. and love. making history change its tune. By all the vows below to powers above.she thought it was her own. and may he wear them long! She sate. besides much more. in sooth. Oh Love! how perfect is thy mystic art.

His young lip thank'd it with a grateful kiss. lest he had done amiss. a coxcomb. But then the situation had its charm. not the twenty-first of June. without the power Of calling wholly back its self-control. Oh Plato! Plato! you have paved the way. there is not a day. She who for many years had watch'd her son soI 'm very certain mine would not have done so. but she strove to speak. began too soon Their nomenclature. withdrew In deep despair. no better than a go-between. . But what he did. is much what you would do. As if it said. With your confounded fantasies. There is a dangerous silence in that hour. her voice was grown so weak. Breathes also to the heart. and frown'd not. The longest. to more Immoral conduct by the fancied sway Your system feigns o'er the controulless core Of human hearts. The silver light which. I cannot know what Juan thought of this. and o'er it throws A loving languor. by degrees Gently. hallowing tree and tower. I 'm almost sorry that I e'er begun. they Who call'd her CHASTE. And held her tongue.And to contend with thoughts she could not smother She seem'd by the distraction of her air. Yet still she must have thought there was no harm. Or else 't were easy to withdraw her waist.God knows what next. methinks. A stillness. Had she imagined such a thing could rouse A feeling dangerous to a prudent spouse. 'T was surely very wrong in Juan's mother To leave together this imprudent pair. Which trembled like the bosom where 't was placed. At best. A charlatan. Sees half the business in a wicked way On which three single hours of moonshine smileAnd then she looks so modest all the while. but palpably confirm'd its grasp. half embraced And half retiring from the glowing arm. which is not repose. 'Detain me. The sun set.' Yet there 's no doubt she only meant to clasp His fingers with a pure Platonic squeeze: She would have shrunk as from a toad.and have been.I can't go on. abash'd at its own joy. And then. And Julia sate with Juan. and up rose the yellow moon: The devil 's in the moon for mischief. which leaves room for the full soul To open all itself.You 're a bore. The hand which still held Juan's.Love is so very timid when 't is new: She blush'd. or asp. And then. Sheds beauty and deep softness o'er the whole. than all the long array Of poets and romancers:. if you please.

But keeping Julia and Don Juan still In sight. and there is no great cause to quake. we 'll say 'T was in November. Fond of a little love (which I call leisure). except in sighs. A little still she strove. Oh Pleasure! you are indeed a pleasant thing. And mean. so they but hold. By distance mellow'd.And Julia's voice was lost. and as I have a high sense Of Aristotle and the Rules. Yet still. o'er the waters sweep. Without whose epoch my poetic skill For want of facts would all be thrown away). very much ashamed. as the old Are quite enough for me. 'T is sweet to be awaken'd by the lark. Until too late for useful conversation. and then be wise? Not that remorse did not oppose temptation. Which some irregularity may make In the design. The tears were gushing from her gentle eyes. Or lull'd by falling waters. This liberty is a poetic licence. Although one must be damn'd for you. 'T is sweet to see the evening star appear. no doubt: I make a resolution every spring Of reformation. Here my chaste Muse a liberty must takeStart not! still chaster reader. We 'll talk of that anon. 't is fit To beg his pardon when I err a bit. I wish indeed they had not had occasion. to be quite reclaim'd. But who. 'T is sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home. that several months have pass'd.consented.the era 's more obscure. And must have cost his majesty a treasure: For my part. sweet the hum . based on ocean. But somehow. next winter. 'T is sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming. span the sky. 'T is said that Xerxes offer'd a reward To those who could invent him a new pleasure: Methinks the requisition 's rather hard. this my vestal vow takes wing. alas! can love. I 'm a moderate-minded bard. 'T is sweet to listen as the night-winds creep From leaf to leaf.. and much repented And whispering 'I will ne'er consent'. I trust it may be kept throughout: I 'm very sorry. but I 'm not so sure About the day. This licence is to hope the reader will Suppose from June the sixth (the fatal day. and look brighter when we come.she 'll be nice henceForward. 't is sweet to view on high The rainbow. ere the year run out.'T is sweet to hear At midnight on the blue and moonlit deep The song and oar of Adria's gondolier. I care not for new pleasures.

and when you 've lost your Labour. there 's a sure market for imposture. Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps. 't is sweet to put an end To strife. Is first and passionate love. no matter how. and of empty pockets. and their earliest words. as the unforgiven Fire which Prometheus filch'd for us from heaven. than these. By blood or ink. What opposite discoveries we have seen! (Signs of true genius. or cash. 't is sometimes sweet to have our quarrels. Dear is the helpless creature we defend Against the world. the song of birds. Sweet is a legacy. prize-money to seamen. This is the age of oddities let loose. By borrowing a new one from an ox. Sweet is revenge. But sweeter still than this. Pillage to soldiers. 'T is sweet to win.) One makes new noses. ale in barrels. Bread has been made (indifferent) from potatoes. the voice of girls. one's laurels. Particularly with a tiresome friend: Sweet is old wine in bottles. With which the Doctor paid off an old pox. one a guillotine. Sweet is the vintage. Still breaking. You 'd best begin with truth.especially to women.too long already For an estate. or country seat. than all. when the showering grapes In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth. One breaks your bones. one sets them in their sockets. Who 've made 'us youth' wait too. No doubt in fable. though there we are forgot.Of bees.it stands alone. but with stamina so steady That all the Israelites are fit to mob its Next owner for their double-damn'd post-obits. and the various arts. and makes strange use Of his own nature. and passing sweet The unexpected death of some old lady Or gentleman of seventy years complete. so shown. and dear the schoolboy spot We ne'er forget. And likes particularly to produce Some new experiment to show his parts. Where different talents find their different marts. Like Adam's recollection of his fall. But vaccination certainly has been A kind antithesis to Congreve's rockets. And galvanism has set some corpses grinning. Purple and gushing: sweet are our escapes From civic revelry to rural mirth.all 's knownAnd life yields nothing further to recall Worthy of this ambrosial sin. The lisp of children. But has not answer'd like the apparatus Of the Humane Society's beginning . Man 's a strange animal. The tree of knowledge has been pluck'd. Sweet to the father is his first-born's birth.

A lobster salad. and champagne.and thenWhat then?. or plague. by which coals Are safely mined for in the mode he mentions. most probably.. Tombuctoo travels. Perhaps. Madam. And sober suns must set at five o'clock. And the sea dashes round the promontory. 'T is pity though. as the watchmen say. you know. and for saving souls. the wind was low or loud By gusts. Perhaps it may be follow'd by the great. And are to be so. and when The goal is gain'd. With war. So that civilisation they may learn. once more. And which in ravage the more loathsome evil isTheir real lues. at the least. 'T is said the great came from America.Madam. we die.Return we to our story: 'T was in November. With more than half the city at his back- . any way. voyages to the Poles. or treasure. 'T was. a cloudy night. Even as a summer sky 's without a cloud: I 'm fond of fire. and chat. that Pleasure 's a sin.The population there so spreads. And the loud breaker boils against the rock. And wonderful beyond all wondrous measure. No moon. If they had never been awoke before. Are ways to benefit mankind. And the far mountains wax a little hoary.Madam. as true.Donna Julia was in bed. and crickets. The path is through perplexing ways. or our pseudo-syphilis? This is the patent-age of new inventions For killing bodies.The door was fasten'd. or famine. All propagated with the best intentions. when fine days are few. round which the family crowd. power. Sir Humphry Davy's lantern. or love. as shooting them at Waterloo. Sleeping. then 'Madam.. There 's something cheerful in that sort of light. and sometimes sin 's a pleasure. in this sublime world. Few mortals know what end they would be at. and all that. no more do youAnd so good night.By which men are unsuffocated gratis: What wondrous new machines have late been spinning! I said the small-pox has gone out of late. they say 'T is grown high time to thin it in its turn.when at her door Arose a clatter might awake the dead.here 's my master.hist! 'For God's sake. But whether glory. 'T was midnight.I do not know. Man 's a phenomenon. And that they have been so we all have read. one knows not what. no stars. and many a sparkling hearth was bright With the piled wood. but with voice and fist First knocks were heard. And clap a white cape on their mantles blue. Perhaps it may set out on its return.

Don Alfonso. the room!'. and in a crack Will all be here. Closet and clothes' press. or what suspicion Could enter into Don Alfonso's head. And found much linen. and say. perhaps he yet may flySurely the window 's not so very high!' By this time Don Alfonso was arrived. Contrived to fling the bed-clothes in a heap. 'In heaven's name. Were one not punish'd. Until the hours of absence should run through. who Of goblins. and rummaged everywhere. Her maid Antonia. To prove himself the thing he most abhorr'd. I can't tell how. 'My dear.I kept good watch. then. As if she had just now from out them crept: I can't tell why she should take all this trouble To prove her mistress had been sleeping double.she had not slept). starting as from sleep (Mind. or why. combs.Alfonso said. . who was an adept. Had thought one man might be deterr'd by two. chest and window-seat. But Julia mistress. Appear'd like two poor harmless women. friends. complete. and yawn. To keep them beautiful. And truant husband should return. they search'd. Poor Donna Julia.Was ever heard of such a curst disaster! 'T is not my fault. or leave them neat: Arras they prick'd and curtains with their swords. 'I will. To hold a levee round his lady's bed. Without a word of previous admonition. With other articles of ladies fair. but still more of men afraid. Began at once to scream. whom the thought would kill? Search. slippers. and weep. And therefore paused not to disturb the slumber Of any wicked woman. And therefore side by side were gently laid. what d' ye mean? Has madness seized you? would that I had died Ere such a monster's victim I had been! What may this midnight violence betide. And wounded several shutters.that I do not say. and some boards. who contrived By stealth her husband's temples to encumber: Examples of this kind are so contagious. brushes. lace. and cried. With torches. The major part of them had long been wived.Alack! Do pray undo the bolt a little fasterThey 're on the stair just now. I was the first who came away. But for a cavalier of his condition It surely was exceedingly ill-bred. A sudden fit of drunkenness or spleen? Dare you suspect me. arm'd with fire and sword. and servants in great number.' He search'd. And summon lackeys. all would be outrageous. and Antonia maid. and several pair Of stockings.' Now Julia found at length a voice.

Under the bed they search'd.' she cried. Who kill'd himself for love (with wine) last year. and wrong on wrong! It was for this that I became a bride! For this in silence I have suffer'd long A husband like Alfonso at my side. 'Insult on insult heap. They open'd windows. was almost uncivil? Is it for this that General Count O'Reilly. And Lord Mount Coffeehouse. Is 't worthy of your years?. or sixty. since the time so opportune is- .'Yes. Except to bull-fights. And then they stared each other's faces round: 'T is odd. Julia's tongue Was not asleep. 'Have I not had two bishops at my feet. But now I 'll bear no more. Of looking in the bed as well as under. whate'er my suitors were. Who took Algiers. If ever you indeed deserved the name. perjured. barbarous Don Alfonso. but the earth said nought. declares I used him vilely? 'Did not the Italian Musico Cazzani Sing at my heart six months at least in vain? Did not his countryman. that any other it would vex. Call me the only virtuous wife in Spain? Were there not also Russians. But found my very innocence perplex So much. play. English.you have threescoreFifty.it was not that they sought. Don Alfonso! husband now no more. he always doubted I was marriedHow sorry you will be when I 've miscarried! 'Was it for this that no Cortejo e'er I yet have chosen from out the youth of Seville? Is it for this I scarce went anywhere. and there they foundNo matter what. and revel? Is it for this. many? The Count Strongstroganoff I put in pain. Count Corniani. I favor'd none. If there be law or lawyers in all Spain. And seems to me almost a sort of blunder. The Duke of Ichar.nay. And never once he has had cause to scold. causeless to explore For facts against a virtuous woman's fame? Ungrateful. 'Yes. it is all the sameIs 't wise or fitting. the Irish peer. mass. and Don Fernan Nunez? And is it thus a faithful wife you treat? I wonder in what quarter now the moon is: I praise your vast forbearance not to beat Me also. rout. nor here remain. How dare you think your lady would go on so? 'Is it for this I have disdain'd to hold The common privileges of my sex? That I have chosen a confessor so old And deaf. search and search. gazing if the ground Had signs or footmarks. During this inquisition. not one of all these seekers thought.

pray turn your spies out. you 'll tell us. and beg you will take care And make no further noise. sir. Pray have the courtesy to make it known Who is the man you search for? how d' ye call Him? what 's his lineage? let him but be shownI hope he 's young and handsome. 't was for his dirty fee. let me. confusion over all. no doubt. perhaps. till you discover The secret cavern of this lurking treasureAnd when 't is found. I wish to sleep. 'At least. he Deserves the worst. too. there the great arm-chair. Whom I see standing there. I am ashamed of having shed these tears.search them under. that since you stain My honour thus. They are unworthy of my father's daughter. sir. there The antechamber. there the toilet. And not from any love to you nor me. 'And now. 'I could tear their eyes out. tell me. You 've made the apartment in a fit condition: There 's pen and ink for you. At that age he would be too old for slaughter. Because. Hidalgo! now that you have thrown Doubt upon me. You saw that she was sleeping by my side When you broke in upon us with your fellows: Look where you please. There is the sofa. his conduct 's less defensible. Or for the sake of decency abide A moment at the door. 'If he comes here to take a deposition. I would not you for nothing should be fee'dBut.and be assured. and looking sensible Of having play'd the fool? though both I spurn. The little I have said may serve to show The guileless heart in silence may grieve o'er The wrongs to whose exposure it is slow: . I have done. he has not sixty years.Oh. and say no more. as my maid 's undrest. valiant man! with sword drawn and cock'd trigger. I trust. have that pleasure. 'Perhaps 't is of Antonia you are jealous. 'And now.we 've nothing. Or for so young a husband's jealous fears (Antonia! let me have a glass of water). Now.which would really hold a lover. Only another time. sir.is he tall? Tell me. over. My mother dream'd not in my natal hour That I should fall into a monster's power.' 'There is the closet. By all means let the gentleman proceed. Under pretence of business indispensable With that sublime of rascals your attorney. that we may be Drest to receive so much good company. it shall not be in vain. when you needLet every thing be noted with precision. to hide.' 'Oh!' sobb'd Antonia. don't you cut a pretty figure? 'Was it for this you took your sudden journey. The chimney.

With 'Pray. For reputations he had little care. with looks abused Her master and his myrmidons. 'D.' But nothing else. So there were quarrels. With him retired his 'posse comitatus. Like skies that rain and lighten. And. but fail. And louder than her breathing beats her heart. So that a suit or action were made good. he made a foolish figure. was amused. But Don Alfonso stood with downcast looks. as a veil. He stood in act to speak.'. He cast a rueful look or two. who linger'd near the door . Or madam dies. With much suspicion in his attitude. With prying snub-nose. pale She lay. that which he was bid. When. 'T will one day ask you why you used me so? God grant you feel not then the bitterest grief!Antonia! where 's my pocket-handkerchief?' She ceased. appears Her streaming hair. her dark eyes flashing through their tears.I leave you to your conscience as before. Knowing they must be settled by the laws. Following Antonia's motions here and there. her relations. after searching in five hundred nooks. And. and whatever else the owners choose: Alfonso saw his wife. except the attorney. and heavy. and small eyes. Added to those his lady with such vigour Had pour'd upon him for the last half-hour. To hide the glossy shoulder. To which the sole reply was tears and sobs.as a thunder-shower.. thick. which uprears Its snow through all. and throbs. The Senhor Don Alfonso stood confused. the time of words was o'er. truth to say. till these Were proved by competent false witnesses. whose Prologue is always certain throes. leave the room. And indications of hysterics.Alfonso mutter'd. Small pity had he for the young and fair. like Achates. or rather stammer. sir.' The attorney last. except some self-rebukes.n her. And then he tried to muster all his patience. He saw too. and say no more. cared not for the cause. At first he tried to hammer an excuse. turning up her nose. And treating a young wife with so much rigour. Antonia bustled round the ransack'd room. He. Gasps. He knew not wherefore. and thought of Job's. faithful to the tomb. and did. and turn'd upon her pillow. he stood. But sage Antonia cut him short before The anvil of his speech received the hammer. He gain'd no point. Waved and o'ershading her wan cheek. of whom Not one.her soft lips lie apart. Quick. the black curls strive. in perspective. And ne'er believed in negatives.

secondly. leaving pill and potion. nor can I indeed describe the whereYoung. it wanted but few hours of day: Antonia puzzled.for there is more behind: With much heartfelt reluctance be it said. And half forgot their danger and despair: Antonia's patience now was at a stand'Come. than. 't is no time now for fooling there. No doubt. which just now wore An awkward look. What 's to be done? Alfonso will be back The moment he has sent his fools away. Young Juan slipp'd half-smother'd. For David lived. Antonia's skill was put upon the rack. Julia did not speak. 'T were better. He turn'd his lip to hers. round or square. and pack'd easily. than be shut With maudlin Clarence in his Malmsey butt. from the bed. And find a deuced balance with the devil. But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So much as when we call our old debts in At sixty years. be blind? Nothing so dear as an unfilch'd good name! But to proceed. But no device could be brought into playAnd how to parry the renew'd attack? Besides. as he revolved the case. in little compass. come. a young belle. But press'd her bloodless lip to Juan's cheek. Of his position I can give no notion: 'T is written in the Hebrew Chronicle. in great wrath. How the physicians. he lay.Reluctantly. But pity him I neither must nor may His suffocation by that pretty pair. and with his hand Call'd back the tangles of her wandering hair. slender. because He had no business to commit a sin. by way of blister. Unless this world. He had been hid. At least 't was rather early to begin. Prescribed. And. Even then their love they could not all command. The door was fasten'd in his legal face.' She whisper'd. to die so. No sooner was it bolted.not a little sore At this most strange and unexplain'd 'hiatus' In Don Alfonso's facts. and draw the accompts of evil. sure. fined by human laws. Perhaps 't was in a different way applied. and t' other too. When old King David's blood grew dull in motion.Oh shame! Oh sin! Oh sorrow! and oh womankind! How can you do such things and keep your fame. but Juan nearly died. Forbid by heavenly. I pity not. still tarrying there as late as Antonia let him.'I must deposit This pretty gentleman within the closet: . And that the medicine answer'd very well.I don't pretend to say How.

Even if it should comprise a pack of fables. had tolerable grounds.Mention'd his jealousy but never who Had been the happy lover. what piece of work is here! I really. Julia. 'Had it but been for a stout cavalier Of twenty-five or thirty (come. wonder at your taste (Come. curtsied. which makes two. don't you know that it may end in blood? You 'll lose your life. However. at the least. But whether 't was that one's own guilt confoundsBut that can't be. and when he Suspects with one. but alone. His mind the more o'er this its mystery brooded. And if we can but till the morning keep Our counsel. He would not justify what he had done. There might be one more motive. An order somewhat sullenly obey'd. Which. The devil 's in the urchin. who her husband's foible knows. But there were ample reasons for it.my master must be near: There. Closed the oration of the trusty maid: She loiter'd. still must pose. as has been often shown. for the present. though all the while there rose A ready answer. which at once enables A matron. and withdrew.Alfonso's loves with Inez were well known. none Of which he specified in this his pleading: His speech was a fine sample. madam. present remedy was none. To whom she knew his mother's fame was dear. By a few timely words to turn the tables.then begun Some strange excuses for his late proceeding. A lady with apologies abounds.It might be that her silence sprang alone From delicacy to Don Juan's ear. he's fast.I 'm in such a fright. if it does not silence.' Julia said nought. Don Alfonso entering. and he told her to be gone. in fact. mind. 't is true. Of rhetoric. Conceal'd amongst his premises. And no great good seem'd answer'd if she stay'd: Regarding both with slow and sidelong view. To say the best. you must not sleep). for that half-girlish face.'Pray. 'T is to retort with firmness. and no goodIs this a time for giggling? this a plight? Why. .(Juan. sir. and I shall lose my place. he concluded.' Now. make haste)But for a child. keep your nonsense for some luckier nightWho can have put my master in this mood? What will become on 't. get in). My mistress all. which the learn'd call 'rigmarole. Alfonso ne'er to Juan had alluded. do you reproach with three. on the whole. She snuff'd the candle. it was extreme ill-breeding. Alfonso paused a minute.

not a wordThe door is open. Which Julia half withheld. But met Alfonso in his dressing-gown. and to seize. fly! for heaven's sake. in tender cases. And then flew out into another passion. And when at length they 're out of breath. Dire was the scuffle. He left the room for his relinquish'd sword. and out went the light. at least I Have always done so. 't is of no great use. trice. Antonia cried out 'Rape!' and Julia 'Fire!' But not a servant stirr'd to aid the fight. And Julia instant to the closet flew. lo! he stumbled o'er a pair of shoes. And laid conditions he thought very hard on.haste! I hear Alfonso's hurrying feetDay has not broke. Beseeching she no further would refuse. attempting a reply. when push'd by questions rather rough. but these (No one can tell how much I grieve to say) Were masculine.so Juan knock'd him down. And cast their languid eyes down. When. Of all experience 't is the usual price.Ah! well-a-day! My teeth begin to chatter. Juan. it came too late.To speak of Inez now were. Denying several little things he wanted: He stood like Adam lingering near his garden. Who threaten'd death. Was but a moment's act.sit down and sup.and then.. In any case. one may say.you may yet slip through The passage you so often have exploredHere is the garden-key. Alfonso.what then? not much. and we believe them. and then half granted. With useless penitence perplex'd and haunted. But it will serve to keep my verse compact)Which keeps.Fly. They blush. if they Are such as fit with ladies' feet. Like throwing Juan in Alfonso's way. And might have done so by the garden-gate. pommell'd to his heart's desire. 'Fly. and begg'd her pardon. And then. Alfonso closed his speech.and then. and let loose A tear or two. For then their eloquence grows quite profuse. A lady always distant from the fact: The charming creatures lie with such a grace. The only mischief was. A sort of income-tax laid on by fate: Juan had reach'd the room-door in a. . and then we make it up. is enough. A pair of shoes!.there 's no one in the street: None can say that this was not good advice. they sigh.fly. A hint. besides there is a tact (That modern phrase appears to me sad stuff.Adieu! Haste. There 's nothing so becoming to the face. to see them. my veins freezeAlfonso first examined well their fashion. Silence is best.

Antonia in hysterics. She had resolved that he should travel through All European climes. At last.. And then. all likeness ends between the pair. and the cause at full. Here ends this canto. And how Alfonso sued for a divorce. How Juan naked. Julia swoon'd. The best is that in short-hand ta'en by Gurney. . Alfonso's sword had dropp'd ere he could draw it. The depositions. And liking not the inside. by land or sea. but they none of them are dull. turn'd the key about. His blood was up: though young. First vow'd (and never had she vow'd in vain) To Virgin Mary several pounds of candles. and maids. but there. I doubt. But Donna Inez. like Joseph. For Juan very luckily ne'er saw it. the pleadings Of counsel to nonsuit. to divert the train Of one of the most circulating scandals That had for centuries been known in Spain. favour'd by the night. Some half-torn drapery scatter'd on the ground. Alfonso's days had not been in the land Much longer. At least since the retirement of the Vandals. or say.Swore lustily he'd be revenged this night. If you would like to see the whole proceedings. or to annul. The nine days' wonder which was brought to light. Who favours what she should not. He fled. And reach'd his home in an unseemly plight? The pleasant scandal which arose next day. but no more: Juan the gate gain'd. She sent her son to be shipp'd off from Cadiz. by the door. And they continued battling hand to hand. His temper not being under great command. Were in the English newspapers. Alfonso leaning. too. as they more faintly wrestling lay. And then his only garment quite gave way.wives! Alfonso grappled to detain the foe. Lights came at length. Who to Madrid on purpose made a journey. If at that moment he had chanced to claw it.. Juan contrived to give an awkward blow. There 's more than one edition. Some blood. found his way. And not at all disposed to prove a martyr. blasphemed an octave higher. and several footsteps. and men. of course. by the advice of some old ladies. lovers' lives! And how ye may be doubly widows. and the readings Are various. lock'd the out. And blood ('t was from the nose) began to flow. The names of all the witnesses.Think of husbands'. who found An awkward spectacle their eyes before. he was a Tartar. breathless. And Juan throttled him to get away.Need I sing. leaving it. And Juan.

forgive me. my own esteem. but not the less a pain.No. Julia was sent into a convent: she Grieved.'t is well. perhaps. to fill up his heart. glory.. heaven. To love again. Sword. could sorrow kill. and in pride. church. My eyeballs burn and throb. My misery can scarce be more complete: I had not lived till now. I have no further claim on your young heart. except some years to hide My shame and sorrow deep in my heart's core. to love and pray for you!' . 'You will proceed in pleasure. offer in exchange Pride. camp. you depart: 'T is wise. 'My breast has been all weakness. station. Especially in France and Italy (At least this is the thing most people do). Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet. Yet. but cannot cast aside The passion which still rages as beforeAnd so farewell. nor can forgetTo all.To mend his former morals. man may range The court. but linger still. and so stands the pole. ambition. I love you. To love too much has been the only art I used. So shakes the needle. None can deem harshlier of me than I deem: I trace this scrawl because I cannot restI 've nothing to reproach. So clear is still the memory of that dream. if I name my guilt. 't is not what it appears. And yet I may as well the task fulfil. or to request. and be again undone. fame. As vibrates my fond heart to my fix'd soul. gown. And yet can not regret what it hath cost. except one image. but have no tears. That word is idle now. the vessel. But still I think I can collect my mind. And few there are whom these cannot estrange. And dare not set my seal upon this sheet. These I could bear. And I must even survive this last adieu. for this love have lost State. gain. and if a stain Be on this sheet. madly blind.I write in haste. her feelings may be better Shown in the following copy of her Letter:'They tell me 't is decided. As roll the waves before the settled wind. mankind's. Beloved and loving many. and the mart. 'Man's love is of man's life a thing apart. My blood still rushes where my spirit 's set. but. is so yet. 'T is woman's whole existence. Men have all these resources. we but one. 'I loved. love me. and would be again.but let it go. and get new. And bear with life. all is o'er For me on earth. 'I have no more to say. Mine is the victim. My heart is feminine. 't is not to boast.

but whether I shall proceed with his adventures is Dependent on the public altogether. and several now in Seville. and war. tradition.' The motto cut upon a white cornelian. And here the advantage is my own. And no great mischief 's done by their caprice. a heavy gale at sea. that 't is quite a bore Their labyrinth of fables to thread through. And yet she did not let one tear escape her. We 'll see. I 've got new mythological machinery. If ever I should condescend to prose. I 'm fond of rhyme. The wax was superfine. And if their approbation we experience. So that my name of Epic 's no misnomer. I ween (Not that I have not several merits more. But that which more completely faith exacts Is that myself. each book containing. I appeal To history. The Vade Mecum of the true sublime. 'Elle vous suit partout. All these things will be specified in time. The seal a sun-flower. and captains. New characters. And very handsome supernatural scenery. its hue vermilion. and is meant to be Divided in twelve books. however. Whereas this story 's actually true. and operas in three acts. Which makes so many poets. To plays in five. But this will more peculiarly be seen). To newspapers. I 'll write poetical commandments. Good workmen never quarrel with their tools. in these I shall enrich My text with many things that no one knows. My poem 's epic. and to facts. slight and new: Her small white hand could hardly reach the taper. what they say to this: Their favour in an author's cap 's a feather. This was Don Juan's earliest scrape. If any person doubt it. A list of ships. It trembled as magnetic needles do. the episodes are three: A panoramic view of hell 's in training. And carry precept to the highest pitch: . All these confirm my statement a good deal. which Shall supersede beyond all doubt all those That went before. whose truth all know and feel.This note was written upon gilt-edged paper With a neat little crow-quill. Saw Juan's last elopement with the devil. and some fools: Prose poets like blank-verse. and kings reigning. After the style of Virgil and of Homer. With love. With strict regard to Aristotle's rules. Perhaps they 'll have some more about a year hence. They so embellish. There 's only one slight difference between Me and my epic brethren gone before.

The public approbation I expect. nobody will be so pert) That this is not a moral tale. the third so quaint and mouthy: With Crabbe it may be difficult to cope.the rod. nor Commit. Or. The second drunk. he lies. I 've bribed my grandmother's review.the British. after all. That they will not cry out before they 're hurt. Every Poet his own Aristotle. and say (But. Thou shalt not set up Wordsworth. and defy All other magazines of art or science. And break a promise after having made it her. and you may kissExactly as you please. Led by some tortuosity of mind. Who thank'd me duly by return of postI 'm for a handsome article his creditor. And smear his page with gall instead of honey. I . though gay. there should be some so blind To their own good this warning to despise. Southey. Should captains the remark. Pope. Thou shalt not write. They also lie too. Sotheby's Muse. Coleridge. at least. or monthly. And cry that they 'the moral cannot find. Denying the receipt of what it cost. I pray. Then that they 'll read it o'er again. His Pegasus. make. And beg they 'll take my word about the moral. or three monthly. Daily.I 'll call the work 'Longinus o'er a Bottle.' Thou shalt believe in Milton. I mean to show The very place where wicked people go. they 'll doubtless please to recollect My epical pretensions to the laurel: For fear some prudish readers should grow skittish. nor anything that 's his. All I can say is. I think that with this holy new alliance I may ensure the public. Thou shalt not covet Mr. in short.flirtation with the muse of Moore. is very fond of this).' I tell him. Besides. But if you don't. if a clergyman. doubtless.. if my gentle Muse he please to roast. first. Thou shalt not bear false witness like 'the Blues' (There 's one. I sent it in a letter to the Editor. Which I with their amusement will connect (So children cutting teeth receive a coral). Yet.under a mistake. Because the first is crazed beyond all hope. or critics. Meantime. I 'll lay it on. And Campbell's Hippocrene is somewhat drouthy: Thou shalt not steal from Samuel Rogers. If. or not. by G_d! If any person should presume to assert This story is not moral.that he had the money. but what I choose: This is true criticism. Dryden. in Canto Twelfth. Not to believe my verse and their own eyes.

Can make the fool of which they made before.Oh! never more. I Have spent my life. I trust. and thou art Insensible. 'Non ego hoc ferrem calida juventa Consule Planco. I 've spoken. but none the worse. like Friar Bacon's brazen head. My days of love are over. my heart.' Horace said. Though heaven knows how it ever found a lodgment. What is the end of Fame? 't is but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper: . So for a good old-gentlemanly vice. And feel no more the spirit to retort. And deem not. me no more The charms of maid.no more. what I deem'd.a chymic treasure Is glittering youth. The copious use of claret is forbid too.Oh! never more on me The freshness of the heart can fall like dew. And would not brook at all this sort of thing In my hot youth.In short. No more.Have not essay'd to multiply their clients. my universe! Once all in all. Hived in our bosoms like the bag o' the bee: Think'st thou the honey with those objects grew? Alas! 't was not in them. Canst thou be my sole world. and so Say I. which I have spent betimesMy heart in passion.no more. Time was. No more.when George the Third was King. The credulous hope of mutual minds is o'er. and my head on rhymes. and still less of widow. my soul invincible. And the two last have left me many a token O'er which reflection may be made at leisure: Now. which was broken Before the shrines of Sorrow. by which quotation there is meant a Hint that some six or seven good years ago (Long ere I dreamt of dating from the Brenta) I was most ready to return a blow. and. but in thy power To double even the sweetness of a flower. wife. Time 's past:'. in short. but now a thing apart. And in thy stead I 've got a deal of judgment. both interest and principal. Ambition was my idol. I think I must take up with avarice. Thou canst not be my blessing or my curse: The illusion 's gone for ever. I must not lead the life I did do. 'Time is. And that the Edinburgh Review and Quarterly Treat a dissenting author very martyrly. I Have squander'd my whole summer while 't was May. Which out of all the lovely things we see Extracts emotions beautiful and new. Because they tell me 't were in vain to try. But now at thirty years my hair is grey (I wonder what it will be like at forty? I thought of a peruke the other day)My heart is not much greener. and of Pleasure.

You 've pass'd your youth not so unpleasantly. For this men write. gentle reader! and Still gentler purchaser! the bard. What are the hopes of man? Old Egypt's King Cheops erected the first pyramid And largest. Spain may prove an exception to the rule.' But for the present. Since not a pinch of dust remains of Cheops. And if you had it o'er again. when the original is dust. as I believe. His daily task had kept his fancy cool.go thy ways! And if. Burglariously broke his coffin's lid: Let not a monument give you or me hopes. and Wordsworth understood. from this my solitude! I cast thee on the waters. Germany. and mind your purse. But somebody or other rummaging. OH ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations.that 's IMust. had he been nurtured in the north. CANTO_THE_SECOND CANTO THE SECOND. a wretched picture. Say very often to myself. sir. I pray ye flog them upon all occasions. England. And read your Bible. reader! take them not for mine. And flesh (which Death mows down to hay) is grass. Since. like all hills. he Became divested of his native modesty. and mummy hid.'t would passSo thank your stars that matters are no worse. I shall not try Your patience further than by this short sample'T were well if others follow'd my example. or Spain. It mends their morals. preach.' To have. In the third form. And so 'Your humble servant.' When Southey 's read. or even in the fourth. Had he but been placed at a public school. speak. is lost in vapour. and if not. in a way that 's rather of the oddest. France. But I being fond of true philosophy.Some liken it to climbing up a hill. shake you by the hand. 'Alas! All things that have been born were born to die. . Holland. and good-b'ye!' We meet again. 'Go. with permission. I can't help putting in my claim to praiseThe four first rhymes are Southey's every line: For God's sake. At least. never mind the pain: The best of mothers and of educations In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain. thinking it was just the thing To keep his memory whole. thy vein be good. little book. A name. And bards burn what they call their 'midnight taper. Whose summit. if we should understand Each other. and worse bust. The world will find thee after many days. and heroes kill.

and then their garb! Their veil and petticoat. and so our life exhales. devotion. While the o'erpowering eye. And send him like a dove of promise forth.say my prayers. And live and die.come. you must). And as the veering wind shifts. To wean him from the wickedness of earth. if you must. a cameleopard. mathematical. heads or tails. As if a Spanish ship were Noah's ark. ambition. But why?.well. But to our tale: the Donna Inez sent Her son to Cadiz only to embark.well. a barb New broke. No.All sunny land Of love! when I forget you.. an old ass. Thank Heaven I 've got no metaphor quite ready (And so.none of these will do. The king commands us.never mind. then received A lecture and some money: for four springs . Don Juan bade his valet pack his things According to direction. there was His lady-mother.but never was there plann'd A dress through which the eyes give such a volley. Nor liken it. Excepting the Venetian Fazzioli. dust. To stay there had not answer'd her intent.But then exceptions always prove its worthA lad of sixteen causing a divorce Puzzled his tutors very much. may I fail To.Alas! to dwell Upon such things would very near absorb A canto.we leave the reader in the dark'T was for a voyage that the young man was meant. such graceful ladies. A.I never saw the like: An Arab horse.the veil Thrown back a moment with the glancing hand.perhaps a name. And such sweet girls.. shift our sails. fame. a stately stag. And all mankind turn with it. his tutor. not much in unity With his young wife. A little breath. A pretty woman (that 's quite natural.then their feet and ankles. that turns you pale. and opportunity. a gazelle. Or else the thing had hardly come to pass). the world must turn upon its axis. Well.. Their very walk would make your bosom swell.I mean. of course. Flashes into the heart:. before Peru learn'd to rebel). I can't say that it puzzles me at all. I recollect it well'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is (Or was. let 's be steadyChaste Muse!. wine. I can't describe it. and the doctor quacks us. make love and pay our taxes. though so much it strike. my sober Muse. The priest instructs. If all things be consider'd: first.well.a time. love. I said that Juan had been sent to CadizA pretty town. Fighting. A husband rather old.

So that he had much better cause to grieve Than many persons more advanced in life. too. His mother. cordage strain'd. standing upon deck. Especially when life is rather new: I recollect Great Britain's coast looks white. or set upon a stool: The great success of Juan's education. mystified by distance. And if we now and then a sigh must heave At quitting even those we quit in strife. who 've cross'd it oft. the dashing spray Flies in one's face. one keeps looking at the steeple. So Juan stood. Don Juan stood. Even nations feel this when they go to war. the water passing rough: A devil of a sea rolls in that bay. And the ship creak'd. before You sneer. sir. Beheld his native Spain receding far: First partings form a lesson hard to learn. and though Inez grieved (As every kind of parting has its stings). From which away so fair and fast they bore. and sailors swore. the town became a speck.perhaps his last. But Juan had got many things to leave.He was to travel. So Juan wept. No doubt we weep for those the heart endearsThat is. Juan embark'd. Infants of three years old were taught that day. Dunces were whipt. She hoped he would improve.farewell of Spain. or the fool. and. In the mean time. and makes it weather-tough: And there he stood to take. and I assure you this is true. who would rather play (Like truant rogues) the devil. When gazing on them. till deeper griefs congeal our tears. We enter on our nautical existence. Spurr'd her to teach another generation. And.and two or three of credit. Brave Inez now set up a Sunday school For naughty children.perhaps believed: A letter. For I have found it answer. it unmans one quite. I can't but say it is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters. The best of remedies is a beef-steak Against sea-sickness: try it. There is a sort of unexprest concern. His first. and a mistress. and no wife. But almost every other country 's blue. gazing from the stern. bewilder'd on the deck: The wind sung.the ship got under way. know well enough. as wept the captive Jews . to pass her hours away. The wind was fair. As I. she gave (he never read it) Of good advice. and take again.so may you. A kind of shock that sets one's heart ajar: At leaving even the most unpleasant people And places.

The loss of love. I Love 's a capricious power: I 've known it hold Out through a fever caused by its own heat. 't is where she. and cannot beSooner shall this blue ocean melt to air. . Farewell. he Reflected on his present situation. I swearBut that 's impossible.By Babel's waters.(Here he drew Her letter out again. and much he sigh'd and thought. Oh. And such light griefs are not a thing to die on. and read it through. alas! attends. sobbing often. oh.. Pedro. and he grew sea-sick). Julia! (this curst vessel pitches so)Beloved Julia. still remembering Sion: I 'd weep. Or rather stomach. my mother! and. my love! (you rascal. And Juan wept. help me down below. A mind diseased no remedy can physic (Here the ship gave a lurch. 'Sweets to the sweet' (I like so much to quote. While his salt tears dropp'd into the salt sea. Beyond the best apothecary's art. Battista. too.) He felt that chilling heaviness of heart. the treachery of friends. which. But the sea acted as a strong emetic. 'Sooner shall heaven kiss earth (here he fell sicker). when a part Of us dies with them as each fond hope ends: No doubt he would have been much more pathetic. Young men should travel. as many an exiled heart hath died. Of its own thirst to see again thy shore: Farewell. And find a quincy very hard to treat. Julia! what is every other wo? (For God's sake let me have a glass of liquor. my Spain! a long farewell!' he cried. dearest Julia!. Sooner shall earth resolve itself to sea. quicker)Oh. 'Farewell. my fair! Or think of any thing excepting thee. Or death of those we dote on.) 'And. But be much puzzled by a cough and cold. But vulgar illnesses don't like to meet. But die. for Ophelia brought Flowers to the grave). Against all noble maladies he 's bold. since all is o'er. And seriously resolved on reformation.) Julia. Nor that a sneeze should interrupt his sigh. Perhaps it may be lined with this my canto. You must excuse this extract. Pedro.but mine is not a weeping Muse. if but to amuse Themselves. where Guadalquivir's waters glide! Farewell. and the next time their servants tie on Behind their carriages their new portmanteau. 'Perhaps I may revisit thee no more. oh! if e'er I should forget. Than I resign thine image. and. hear me still beseeching!' (Here he grew inarticulate with retching. The Queen of Denmark.

. which the morn Of his departure had been sent him by His Spanish friends for those in Italy.' Was steering duly for the port Leghorn. 'T was not without some reason. Despite of all their efforts and expedients. But for the pumps: I 'm glad to make them known To all the brother tars who may have need hence. until it blew a gale. and they must have gone down. also shatter'd the Whole of her stern-frame. and for them he had a Letter of introduction. One gang of people instantly was put Upon the pumps and the remainder set To get up part of the cargo. ne'er at sea before? The ship. Resist his stomach. how else Could Juan's passion. but all such ingredients Would have been vain. perhaps. Love. At last they did get at it really. Started the stern-post. And purgatives are dangerous to his reign. For the sky show'd it would come on to blow. and made an awkward rift. shirts. But worst of all is nausea. and him afraid. The rudder tore away: 't was time to sound The pumps. But now lay sick and speechless on his pillow. long'd for land. His headache being increased by every billow. for the wind Increased at night. while the billows roar. and what not. and. and there were four feet water found. Into the opening. And rocking in his hammock. bales of muslin. Some landsmen would have look'd a little pale.Nor inflammations redden his blind eye. For sailors are. the licentiate Pedrillo. a different kind: At sunset they began to take in sail. Sea-sickness death: his love was perfect. who heroically breathes a vein. And though 't was not much to a naval mind. a mast or so. Which struck her aft. For there the Spanish family Moncada Were settled long ere Juan's sire was born: They were relations. in fact. Shrinks from the application of hot towels. ere she could lift Herself from out her present jeopardy. And the waves oozing through the port-hole made His berth a little damp. His suite consisted of three servants and A tutor. call'd the most holy 'Trinidada. jackets. or a pain About the lower region of the bowels. And carry away. Who several languages did understand. But they could not come at the leak as yet. but Still their salvation was an even bet: The water rush'd through in a way quite puzzling. While they thrust sheets. At one o'clock the wind with sudden shift Threw the ship right into the trough of the sea.

or heads. That even the able seaman. and wrecks. who may chance to be survivors. some drank spirits. fright cured the qualms Of all the luckless landsmen's sea-sick maws: Strange sounds of wailing. And swimmers. There she lay motionless. Mann. ere they sunk. who. Perhaps more mischief had been done. and sometimes drink rum from the cask. Foremast and bowsprit were cut down. As day advanced the weather seem'd to abate. The water left the hold. though three feet yet Kept two hand and one chain-pump still in use. and their fears.which all descriptive power transcendsLaid with one blast the ship on her beam ends. with sense beyond his years. . It may be easily supposed. spite of oaths and tears. and baffled our intent. A gust. no doubt. might be disposed to riot.For fifty tons of water were upthrown By them per hour. or necks: Thus drownings are much talk'd of by the divers. blasphemy. so much the spirit calms As rum and true religion: thus it was. And then with violence the old ship righted. Or breaks their hopes.' Juan answer'd. The main-mast follow'd: but the ship still lay Like a mere log. fires. The high wind made the treble. And keep the ship afloat. who. As if Death were more dreadful by his door Of fire than water. Thought it would be becoming to die drunk. or hearts. and seem'd upset. And then the leak they reckon'd to reduce. some people were unquiet. first the mizen went. Both main and mizen. 'Give us more grog. Got to the spirit-room. 'No! 'T is true that death awaits both you and me. and they had all been undone. of London. And made a scene men do not soon forget. and as bass The hoarse harsh waves kept time. while this Was going on. But for the maker. and stood before It with a pair of pistols.' they cried. Clamour'd in chorus to the roaring ocean. Mr. deeming his Days nearly o'er. Or any other thing that brings regret. Immediately the masts were cut away. For they remember battles. There 's nought. and wash'd the decks. Some plunder'd. That passengers would find it much amiss To lose their lives. The wind blew fresh again: as it grew late A squall came on. some sung psalms. as well as spoil their diet. 'for it will be All one an hour hence. but for Our Juan. devotion. As upon such occasions tars will ask For grog. and they Eased her at last (although we never meant To part with all till every hope was blighted). Kept still aloof the crew. and while some guns broke loose.

To follow Juan's wake. But the ship labour'd so. and their solid mess Was scant enough: in vain the telescope Was used. what could they expect? But still 't is best to struggle to the last. And for the moment it had some effect.. in fact. shoals round her. his most reverend tutor.a wreck complete she roll'd. 'T is not so pleasant in the Gulf of Lyons. the weaker thrumm'd a sail. Again the weather threaten'd. Was for some rum a disappointed suitor. Until the chains and leathers were worn through Of all our pumps:. And even Pedrillo. A glimpse of sunshine set some hands to baleThe stronger pump'd. Without their will. not sink below Like brutes. and made a last Irrevocable vow of reformation. The wind. with tears . the most were patient. whose mercies are Like human beings during civil war. and in the fore and after hold Water appear'd. yet still she held her own. In cloisters of the classic Salamanca. like Sancho Panca. they scarce could hope To weather out much longer. And made a loud and pious lamentation. Repented all his sins.'.But let us die like men. at last. And none liked to anticipate the blow. though the people knew All this. Under the vessel's keel the sail was past. The good old gentleman was quite aghast. They tried the pumps again.and thus his dangerous post kept he. Still swam. yet. Day broke. but no shore. perhaps was rather less. And never had as yet a quiet day On which they might repose. or could say The ship would swim an hour. 'T is never too late to be wholly wreck'd: And though 't is true that man can only die once. and the wind lull'd: the masts were gone. or even commence A jurymast or rudder. For they were forced with steering to dispense. and some bold. and coming night. At mercy of the waves. The leak increased.though not exactly like a duck. Nothing should tempt him more (this peril past) To quit his academic occupation. There winds and waves had hurl'd them.again blew A gale. But with a leak. the distress Was also great with which they had to cope For want of water. and though before Their desperate efforts seem'd all useless grown. Nought but the heavy sea. and not a stick of mast. The vessel swam. which.nor sail nor shore appear'd in sight. and from thence. Nor rag of canvas. by good luck. they carried them away. Then came the carpenter. But now there came a flash of hope once more.

Getting the boats out. eight gallons in a puncheon. Water. they were not fears That made his eyelids as a woman's be. far less be stored. would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail. And one oar for a mast. dislike inanition. and there was one That begg'd Pedrillo for an absolution. and some look'd o'er the bow. And long had voyaged through many a stormy sea. that in their condition. The worst of all was. And two boats could not hold.but there were none To pay them with. the yawl and pinnace.In his rough eyes. Thus to their hopeless eyes the night was shown. a twenty-gallon cask or so. some put on Their best clothes. The ship was evidently settling now Fast by the head. like a veil. And grimly darkled o'er the faces pale. all distinction gone. Which. had a wife and children. which a young lad Threw in by good luck over the ship's rail. Some cursed the day on which they saw the sun. But scarce enough to serve them for a luncheonThen there was rum. and. and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters. 'T was twilight. even when dying. And the dim desolate deep: twelve days had Fear .in his confusion. Their stock was damaged by the weather's stress: Two casks of biscuit and a keg of butter Were all that could be thrown into the cutter. But in the long-boat they contrived to stow Some pounds of bread. And gnash'd their teeth. and they contrived to get A portion of their beef up from below. tore their hair. and told the captain he Could do no more: he was a man in years. 'T was difficult to get out such provision As now might render their long suffering less: Men. And with a piece of pork. had Been stove in the beginning of the gale. The other boats. if withdrawn. Six flasks of wine. though injured by the wet. Having been several days in great distress. Some went to prayers again. And others went on as they had begun. Who told him to be damn'd. As there were but two blankets for a sail. And the long-boat's condition was but bad. as if going to a fair. and. poor fellow. met. being well aware That a tight boat will live in a rough sea. Some lash'd them in their hammocks. and made a vow Of candles to their saints. And if he wept at length. Some hoisted out the boats.Two things for dying people quite bewildering. To save one half the people then on board. moreover. But he. howling. Unless with breakers close beneath her lee.

Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewellThen shriek'd the timid. but at intervals there gush'd.sunk. near two hundred souls Had left their bodies. although of no great use: There was no light in heaven but a few stars. If any laughter at such times could be. Then some leap'd overboard with dreadful yell. the bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony. Like one who grapples with his enemy. and there Contrived to help Pedrillo to a place. And. and then a lurch to port. All the rest perish'd. The boats. And then they were too many. booms. and then all was hush'd. while poor Pedrillo's pair . had got off before. like a crash Of echoing thunder.Been their familiar. And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave. For yet they strove. And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell. They won't lay out their money on the deadIt costs three francs for every mass that 's said. Because. And all things. as stated. Accompanied with a convulsive splash. Were counted in them when they got afloat. thirty in the boat. A solitary shriek. And strives to strangle him before he die. It seem'd as if they had exchanged their care. hencoops. A sort of thing at which one would have laugh'd. The boats put off o'ercrowded with their crews. She gave a heel. That still could keep afloat the struggling tars. Unless with people who too much have quaff'd. in short. Some trial had been making at a raft. for so strong it blew There was slight chance of reaching any shore. Juan got into the long-boat. They must wait several weeks before a mass Takes off one peck of purgatorial coals. had been cast loose. As eager to anticipate their grave. going down head foremost. though so fewNine in the cutter. And in them crowded several of the crew. And first one universal shriek there rush'd. For Juan wore the magisterial face Which courage gives. And have a kind of wild and horrid glee. With little hope in such a rolling sea. till people know what 's come to pass. And yet their present hope was hardly more Than what it had been. and stood still the brave. Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash Of billows. alas! When over Catholics the ocean rolls. and now Death was here. spars. for a chance. Louder than the loud ocean. Half epileptical and half hysterical:Their preservation would have been a miracle. and what 's worse. At half-past eight o'clock.

Because the sea ran higher every minute. And most of them had little clothes but rags. as ye may think. A small old spaniel. And for the boat. And so he found a wine-and-watery grave. conducive to his loss. Was all that for the present could be done: A few tea-spoonfuls of their rum and wine Were served out to the people. his valet. Nine souls more went in her: the long-boat still Kept above water. then after him he leap'd. or do. Not knowing what himself to say. That the sail was becalm'd between the seas. and blew so stiffly yet. Was lost by getting at some aqua-vita. who begun To faint. And present peril all before surpass'd. Two blankets stitch'd together. They could not rescue him although so close. And also for the biscuit-casks and butter. As every rising wave his dread renew'd. They did their best to modify their case. the vessel was about to sink. Though on the wave's high top too much to set. So that themselves as well as hopes were damp'd. and damaged bread wet through the bags. he tried to save. Left him so drunk. He also stuff'd his money where he could About his person. But the same cause. trusting they might still get through. whom he loved. They dared not take it in for all the breeze: Each sea curl'd o'er the stern. answering ill Instead of sail. The sun rose red and fiery. he jump'd into the wave As o'er the cutter's edge he tried to cross.. And the poor little cutter quickly swamp'd. though (a name call'd shortly Tita). Thus re-embark'd his tutor and his spaniel. And deeming there were remedies for any ill. crowded in a space Which left scarce room for motion or exertion.Of eyes were crying for their owner's case: Battista. and ere he stepp'd Off. And made them bale without a moment's ease. Who let him do. But Juan. No doubt. and kept them wet. . a sure sign Of the continuance of the gale: to run Before the sea until it should grow fine. Knowing (dogs have such intellectual noses!). 'T was a rough night.the crew kept crowding in it. Pedro. They grieved for those who perish'd with the cutter. His father's. threw him in. and Pedrillo's too. too.which had been Don Jose's. They counted thirty. For on such things the memory reposes With tenderness. whate'er he would. were to the oar made fast: Though every wave roll'd menacing to fill. And Juan caught him up. in fact. with an oar for mast.stood howling on the brink.

shivering like the tertian Ague in its cold fit. thus. But man is a carnivorous production. neither plagued with friends nor wife. like woodcocks.. though numb'd with the immersion. 'T is thus with people in an open boat. Beef. at least one meal a day. they fill'd their boat. better for digestion. must have prey. and that brittle. It would have been more wise to save their victual. The consequence was easily foreseenThey ate up all they had. but not a breath of air. And must have meals. She had a curious crew as well as cargo. He cannot live. these foolish men! And carry them to shore. in fact. veal. nor shines the knife Nor shears of Atropos before their visions: Despair of all recovery spoils longevity. But.yet so true it is. And thus it was with this our hapless crew. Lull'd them like turtles sleeping on the blue Of ocean. With nothing but the sky for a great coat. That some. Which I found very troublesome to pay. do never die. Since Noah's ark went cruising here and there. these hopes were fine. But as they had but one oar. 'T is very certain the desire of life Prolongs it: this is obvious to physicians. While t'other half were laid down in their place At watch and watch. like the shark and tiger. . or even thought. Your labouring people think beyond all question. Although his anatomical construction Bears vegetables. And lying on their weariness like balm. I really think. when they woke they felt a qualm. Like the first old Greek privateer.One half sate up. And hardship still has been the sailor's lot. And makes men miseries miseries of alarming brevity. Unless to plague the grantors. the Argo.God knows why. They live upon the love of life. And that 's their mode of furnishing supply: In my young days they lent me cash that way. next day were they to dine? They hoped the wind would rise. The fourth day came. Of any creditors the worst a Jew it is. And stand like rocks the tempest's wear and tear. When patients. And though at first their strength it might renew.. and bear More than can be believed. and then On what. and drank their wine. Because they still can hope. in a grumbling way. and mutton. In spite of all remonstrances. And fell all ravenously on their provision. 'T is said that persons living on annuities Are longer lived than others. Survive through very desperate conditions. For on the third day there came on a calm. Instead of hoarding it with due precision. upon suction.

for the want of better. And when his comrade's thought each sufferer knew. Like most in the belief in which they 're bred. and mildWith their one oar (I wish they had had a pair) What could they do? and hunger's rage grew wild: So Juan's spaniel. Save in the breeze that came not.the burning sun Blister'd and scorch'd. and hope was none. And first a little crucifix he kiss'd. The seventh day. At length the lots were torn up. And then into a hoarser murmur grew. On the sixth day they fed upon his hide. With some remorse received (though first denied) As a great favour one of the fore-paws. But ere they came to this. and thus it went round. and clear. The lots were made. this pollution. And who should die to be his fellow's food. And none to be the sacrifice would choose. You hardly could perceive when he was dead. 'T was nature gnaw'd them to this resolution. and their boat lay floating there. He but requested to be bled to death: The surgeon had his instruments. . But of materials that much shock the MuseHaving no paper. spite of his entreating. and what remain'd of shoes. and food. because The creature was his father's dog that died. and mark'd. and so gently ebb'd his breath. and bled Pedrillo. 'T was but his own.And Ocean slumber'd like an unwean'd child: The fifth day. They took by force from Juan Julia's letter. They lay like carcasses. who had still refused. In silent horror. And Juan. and prepared. a Catholic in faith.and you might see The longings of the cannibal arise (Although they spoke not) in their wolfish eyes. The sea and sky were blue. suppress'd till now. who Whisper'd another. and. Like the Promethean vulture. and mix'd. and handed. None in particular had sought or plann'd it.all was done. He died as born. savagely They glared upon each other. Now feeling all the vulture in his jaws. and their distribution Lull'd even the savage hunger which demanded. they that day shared Some leathern caps. stagnant on the sea. Was kill'd and portion'd out for present eating. and no wind. longing for the other too. Which he divided with Pedrillo. and desperate sound. who Devour'd it. An ominous. and wild. he found: And out they spoke of lots for flesh and blood. And then they look'd around them and despair'd.. At length one whisper'd his companion. Water. and wine. By which none were permitted to be neuterAnd the lot fell on Juan's luckless tutor.

And. The consequence was awful in the extreme.. hardly could Feel now his appetite increased much more. As if not warn'd sufficiently by those Who had already perish'd. 'T was not to be expected that he should. And if Pedrillo's fate should shocking be. Had his first choice of morsels for his pains. For having used their appetites so sadly. And next they thought upon the master's mate. But others ponder'd on a new dissection. and grinning. who throughout abstain'd. Drinking salt water like a mountain-stream. 'T was better that he did not. all save three or four. Tearing. swearing. And all the rest were thin enough. because. who follow'd o'er the billowThe sailors ate the rest of poor Pedrillo. Their numbers were much thinn'd by this infliction. All except Juan. Dine with them on his pastor and his master. Or but at times a little supper made. But was used sparingly. Went raging mad. at sea . Chewing a piece of bamboo and some lead: At length they caught two boobies and a noddy. but he saved himself. as there was no other fee. howling. For they. who. And that which chiefly proved his saving clause Was a small present made to him at Cadiz. The surgeon. He had been rather indisposed of late. By general subscription of the ladies. The sailors ate him. As fattest. And some of them had lost their recollection. There were some other reasons: the first was. Remember Ugolino condescends To eat the head of his arch-enemy The moment after he politely ends His tale: if foes be food in hell. before Refusing his own spaniel. And then they left off eating the dead body.And then held out his jugular and wrist. with strange convulsions rack'd. Besides being much averse from such a fate. Who were not quite so fond of animal food.some were afraid. Heaven knows. part thrown in the sea. Of poor Pedrillo something still remain'd. suffering madly. died despairing. And such things as the entrails and the brains Regaled two sharks. To these was added Juan. Even in extremity of their disaster.Lord! how they did blaspheme! And foam and roll. in fact. screeching. with hyaena-laughter. And others still their appetites constrain'd. for. But being thirstiest at the moment. Happier than they who still perceived their woes. he Preferr'd a draught from the fast-flowing veins: Part was divided. who were most ravenous in the act.

'T is surely fair to dine upon our friends, When shipwreck's short allowance grows too scanty, Without being much more horrible than Dante. And the same night there fell a shower of rain, For which their mouths gaped, like the cracks of earth When dried to summer dust; till taught by pain Men really know not what good water 's worth; If you had been in Turkey or in Spain, Or with a famish'd boat's-crew had your berth, Or in the desert heard the camel's bell, You 'd wish yourself where Truth is- in a well. It pour'd down torrents, but they were no richer Until they found a ragged piece of sheet, Which served them as a sort of spongy pitcher, And when they deem'd its moisture was complete They wrung it out, and though a thirsty ditcher Might not have thought the scanty draught so sweet As a full pot of porter, to their thinking They ne'er till now had known the joys of drinking. And their baked lips, with many a bloody crack, Suck'd in the moisture, which like nectar stream'd; Their throats were ovens, their swoln tongues were black, As the rich man's in hell, who vainly scream'd To beg the beggar, who could not rain back A drop of dew, when every drop had seem'd To taste of heaven- If this be true, indeed Some Christians have a comfortable creed. There were two fathers in this ghastly crew, And with them their two sons, of whom the one Was more robust and hardy to the view, But he died early; and when he was gone, His nearest messmate told his sire, who threw One glance at him, and said, 'Heaven's will be done! I can do nothing,' and he saw him thrown Into the deep without a tear or groan. The other father had a weaklier child, Of a soft cheek and aspect delicate; But the boy bore up long, and with a mild And patient spirit held aloof his fate; Little he said, and now and then he smiled, As if to win a part from off the weight He saw increasing on his father's heart, With the deep deadly thought that they must part. And o'er him bent his sire, and never raised His eyes from off his face, but wiped the foam From his pale lips, and ever on him gazed, And when the wish'd-for shower at length was come, And the boy's eyes, which the dull film half glazed, Brighten'd, and for a moment seem'd to roam, He squeezed from out a rag some drops of rain Into his dying child's mouth- but in vain. The boy expired- the father held the clay, And look'd upon it long, and when at last Death left no doubt, and the dead burthen lay

Stiff on his heart, and pulse and hope were past, He watch'd it wistfully, until away 'T was borne by the rude wave wherein 't was cast; Then he himself sunk down all dumb and shivering, And gave no sign of life, save his limbs quivering. Now overhead a rainbow, bursting through The scattering clouds, shone, spanning the dark sea, Resting its bright base on the quivering blue; And all within its arch appear'd to be Clearer than that without, and its wide hue Wax'd broad and waving, like a banner free, Then changed like to a bow that 's bent, and then Forsook the dim eyes of these shipwreck'd men. It changed, of course; a heavenly chameleon, The airy child of vapour and the sun, Brought forth in purple, cradled in vermilion, Baptized in molten gold, and swathed in dun, Glittering like crescents o'er a Turk's pavilion, And blending every colour into one, Just like a black eye in a recent scuffle (For sometimes we must box without the muffle). Our shipwreck'd seamen thought it a good omenIt is as well to think so, now and then; 'T was an old custom of the Greek and Roman, And may become of great advantage when Folks are discouraged; and most surely no men Had greater need to nerve themselves again Than these, and so this rainbow look'd like hopeQuite a celestial kaleidoscope. About this time a beautiful white bird, Webfooted, not unlike a dove in size And plumage (probably it might have err'd Upon its course), pass'd oft before their eyes, And tried to perch, although it saw and heard The men within the boat, and in this guise It came and went, and flutter'd round them till Night fell: this seem'd a better omen still. But in this case I also must remark, 'T was well this bird of promise did not perch, Because the tackle of our shatter'd bark Was not so safe for roosting as a church; And had it been the dove from Noah's ark, Returning there from her successful search, Which in their way that moment chanced to fall, They would have eat her, olive-branch and all. With twilight it again came on to blow, But not with violence; the stars shone out, The boat made way; yet now they were so low, They knew not where nor what they were about; Some fancied they saw land, and some said 'No!' The frequent fog-banks gave them cause to doubtSome swore that they heard breakers, others guns, And all mistook about the latter once. As morning broke, the light wind died away,

When he who had the watch sung out and swore, If 't was not land that rose with the sun's ray, He wish'd that land he never might see more; And the rest rubb'd their eyes and saw a bay, Or thought they saw, and shaped their course for shore; For shore it was, and gradually grew Distinct, and high, and palpable to view. And then of these some part burst into tears, And others, looking with a stupid stare, Could not yet separate their hopes from fears, And seem'd as if they had no further care; While a few pray'd (the first time for some years)And at the bottom of the boat three were Asleep: they shook them by the hand and head, And tried to awaken them, but found them dead. The day before, fast sleeping on the water, They found a turtle of the hawk's-bill kind, And by good fortune, gliding softly, caught her, Which yielded a day's life, and to their mind Proved even still a more nutritious matter, Because it left encouragement behind: They thought that in such perils, more than chance Had sent them this for their deliverance. The land appear'd a high and rocky coast, And higher grew the mountains as they drew, Set by a current, toward it: they were lost In various conjectures, for none knew To what part of the earth they had been tost, So changeable had been the winds that blew; Some thought it was Mount AEtna, some the highlands, Of Candia, Cyprus, Rhodes, or other islands. Meantime the current, with a rising gale, Still set them onwards to the welcome shore, Like Charon's bark of spectres, dull and pale: Their living freight was now reduced to four, And three dead, whom their strength could not avail To heave into the deep with those before, Though the two sharks still follow'd them, and dash'd The spray into their faces as they splash'd. Famine, despair, cold, thirst, and heat, had done Their work on them by turns, and thinn'd them to Such things a mother had not known her son Amidst the skeletons of that gaunt crew; By night chill'd, by day scorch'd, thus one by one They perish'd, until wither'd to these few, But chiefly by a species of self-slaughter, In washing down Pedrillo with salt water. As they drew nigh the land, which now was seen Unequal in its aspect here and there, They felt the freshness of its growing green, That waved in forest-tops, and smooth'd the air, And fell upon their glazed eyes like a screen From glistening waves, and skies so hot and bareLovely seem'd any object that should sweep

Away the vast, salt, dread, eternal deep. The shore look'd wild, without a trace of man, And girt by formidable waves; but they Were mad for land, and thus their course they ran, Though right ahead the roaring breakers lay: A reef between them also now began To show its boiling surf and bounding spray, But finding no place for their landing better, They ran the boat for shore,- and overset her. But in his native stream, the Guadalquivir, Juan to lave his youthful limbs was wont; And having learnt to swim in that sweet river, Had often turn'd the art to some account: A better swimmer you could scarce see ever, He could, perhaps, have pass'd the Hellespont, As once (a feat on which ourselves we prided) Leander, Mr. Ekenhead, and I did. So here, though faint, emaciated, and stark, He buoy'd his boyish limbs, and strove to ply With the quick wave, and gain, ere it was dark, The beach which lay before him, high and dry: The greatest danger here was from a shark, That carried off his neighbour by the thigh; As for the other two, they could not swim, So nobody arrived on shore but him. Nor yet had he arrived but for the oar, Which, providentially for him, was wash'd Just as his feeble arms could strike no more, And the hard wave o'erwhelm'd him as 't was dash'd Within his grasp; he clung to it, and sore The waters beat while he thereto was lash'd; At last, with swimming, wading, scrambling, he Roll'd on the beach, half-senseless, from the sea: There, breathless, with his digging nails he clung Fast to the sand, lest the returning wave, From whose reluctant roar his life he wrung, Should suck him back to her insatiate grave: And there he lay, full length, where he was flung, Before the entrance of a cliff-worn cave, With just enough of life to feel its pain, And deem that it was saved, perhaps in vain. With slow and staggering effort he arose, But sunk again upon his bleeding knee And quivering hand; and then he look'd for those Who long had been his mates upon the sea; But none of them appear'd to share his woes, Save one, a corpse, from out the famish'd three, Who died two days before, and now had found An unknown barren beach for burial ground. And as he gazed, his dizzy brain spun fast, And down he sunk; and as he sunk, the sand Swam round and round, and all his senses pass'd: He fell upon his side, and his stretch'd hand Droop'd dripping on the oar (their jurymast),

And, like a wither'd lily, on the land His slender frame and pallid aspect lay, As fair a thing as e'er was form'd of clay. How long in his damp trance young Juan lay He knew not, for the earth was gone for him, And Time had nothing more of night nor day For his congealing blood, and senses dim; And how this heavy faintness pass'd away He knew not, till each painful pulse and limb, And tingling vein, seem'd throbbing back to life, For Death, though vanquish'd, still retired with strife. His eyes he open'd, shut, again unclosed, For all was doubt and dizziness; he thought He still was in the boat and had but dozed, And felt again with his despair o'erwrought, And wish'd it death in which he had reposed; And then once more his feelings back were brought, And slowly by his swimming eyes was seen A lovely female face of seventeen. 'T was bending close o'er his, and the small mouth Seem'd almost prying into his for breath; And chafing him, the soft warm hand of youth Recall'd his answering spirits back from death; And, bathing his chill temples, tried to soothe Each pulse to animation, till beneath Its gentle touch and trembling care, a sigh To these kind efforts made a low reply. Then was the cordial pour'd, and mantle flung Around his scarce-clad limbs; and the fair arm Raised higher the faint head which o'er it hung; And her transparent cheek, all pure and warm, Pillow'd his death-like forehead; then she wrung His dewy curls, long drench'd by every storm; And watch'd with eagerness each throb that drew A sigh from his heaved bosom- and hers, too. And lifting him with care into the cave, The gentle girl and her attendant,- one Young, yet her elder, and of brow less grave, And more robust of figure,- then begun To kindle fire, and as the new flames gave Light to the rocks that roof'd them, which the sun Had never seen, the maid, or whatsoe'er She was, appear'd distinct, and tall, and fair. Her brow was overhung with coins of gold, That sparkled o'er the auburn of her hairHer clustering hair, whose longer locks were roll'd In braids behind; and though her stature were Even of the highest for a female mould, They nearly reach'd her heel; and in her air There was a something which bespoke command, As one who was a lady in the land. Her hair, I said, was auburn; but her eyes Were black as death, their lashes the same hue, Of downcast length, in whose silk shadow lies

They will destroy a face which mortal thought Ne'er compass'd. what was shocking. But of inferior materials: she Had not so many ornaments to strike. And hurls at once his venom and his strength. Short upper lip. For. while wave Around them (what I hope will never vanish) The basquina and the mantilla. Than all the nonsense of their stone ideal). But the best dish that e'er was cook'd since Homer's Achilles ordered dinner for new comers. when all 's doneI 've seen much finer women. nor less mortal chisel wrought. but less long. Her locks curl'd negligently round her face. And have ten thousand delicate inventions: They made a most superior mess of broth. 'T is as the snake late coil'd. her eyes As black. ripe and real. Ne'er with such force the swiftest arrow flew. I 'll tell you why I say so. and of smaller size. Her hair was thicker. A thing which poesy but seldom mentions. and yet of colours not so grave. for when to the view Forth from its raven fringe the full glance flies. for 't is just One should not rail without a decent cause: There was an Irish lady. as you know. And such was she. the Spanish women banish Bright hues when out of doors. bound to be Her dowry. Her hair had silver only. in form alike. Simpler. and cheer'd him both With food and raiment. and the richest lace Flow'd in her veil. but no stocking. for she was one Fit for the model of a statuary (A race of mere impostors. Which are (as I must own) of female growth. and those soft attentions. they Seem at the same time mystical and gay. Was coarser. But through them gold and gems profusely shone: Her girdle sparkled. less free. But with our damsel this was not the case: Her dress was many-colour'd. and yet she was A frequent model. and yet. . And these two tended him. The other female's dress was not unlike. and if e'er she must Yield to stern Time and Nature's wrinkling laws. who pours his length.Deepest attraction. though firm. to whose bust I ne'er saw justice done.sweet lips! that make us sigh Ever to have seen such. but quicker. Her brow was white and low. the lady of the cave: Her dress was very different from the Spanish. her cheek's pure dye Like twilight rosy still with the set sun. I 'll tell you who they were. Her small snow feet had slippers. and many a precious stone Flash'd on her little hand. but. finely spun. and her air. and her veil. this female pair.

the first was only daughter Of an old man who lived upon the water.Lest they should seem princesses in disguise. Heaven knows what cash he got or blood he spilt. and gilding. But other speculations were. and on his isle had built (One of the wild and smaller Cyclades) A very handsome house from out his guilt. Full of barbaric carving. in truth: A little smuggling. Mistress and maid. Her dowry was as nothing to her smiles: Still in her teens. I hate all mystery. therefore. and gain He sought in the slave-market too.not dead. And there he lived exceedingly at ease. The greatest heiress of the Eastern Isles.and he fish'd For wandering merchant-vessels. He had an only daughter. call'd Haidee. a good deal may be made.though of men.. now and then.. and some piracy. Or people in a trance into their grave. And walking out upon the beach. And sometimes caught as many as he wish'd. But like conveying to the cat the mouse. By which. But this I know. Insensible. in sooth. and half drown'd. the sole of many masters Of an ill-gotten million of piastres. A fisherman he had been in his youth. As far as in her lay. and dish'd Full many a morsel for that Turkish trade. Yet deem'd herself in common pity bound. below The cliff. and like a lovely tree She grew to womanhood. and between whiles Rejected several suitors. The cargoes he confiscated. was he. . on that day she found. almost famish'd. He was a Greek. A fisher. And so.. she was shock'd. A sad old fellow was he. but nearly so. Perhaps not so respectable. paint. it was a spacious building. in short. But being naked.Don Juan.' Unlike the honest Arab thieves so brave. with so white a skin. He would have hospitably cured the stranger. And still a sort of fisherman was he. But taking him into her father's house Was not exactly the best way to save. Besides. Left him. Like Peter the Apostle. no doubt. and that air Of clap-trap which your recent poets prize. Added to his connection with the sea. A stranger' dying. the girls they really were They shall appear before your curious eyes. so very beautiful was she. you know. Besides. 'to take him in. if you please. Because the good old man had so much 'nous. towards sunset. at last. just to learn How to accept a better in his turn.

. And therefore. Troubled him not. yet she thought. And turn'd. coffee. He had pronounced her name. Young Juan slept all dreamless:. and fish. and oars. and nothing clash'd upon His rest. perhaps (God only knows). Till the eye. that he might be more at ease. Just for the present. Who sleep at last. . The morn broke. She being wiser by a year or two: A year or two 's an age when rightly spent.Some broken planks. believing that he call'd again. and a pelisse. in case by chance he should awake. in fact. he open'd his black eyes. and in his lull'd head Not even a vision of his former woes Throbb'd in accursed dreams. He had a bed of furs. He slumber'd.but the maid. with her maid. as most women do. at last.And sold him instantly when out of danger. which sometimes spread Unwelcome visions of our former years. and a moment stay'd. at least she said (The heart will slip. with a dish For breakfast. or like the dead. Who smooth'd his pillow. here wrecks were in such plenty. as she left the den Look'd back upon him. that to the touch Were nearly tinder. she meant. And warm. opens thick with tears. And their compassion grew to such a size. But. And Zoe spent hers. Enjoining silence strict to Zoe. That there was fuel to have furnish'd twenty. the rushing of the neighbouring rill. In gaining all that useful sort of knowledge Which is acquired in Nature's good old college. They also gave a petticoat apiece. by God's grace. bread. They made a fire. who Better than her knew what. And pensive to her father's house she went.but such a fire as they Upon the moment could contrive with such Materials as were cast up round the bay. Their charity increased about their guest. And thus they left him to his lone repose: Juan slept like a top. and found Juan slumbering still Fast in his cave. For Haidee stripped her sables off to make His couch. and he might sleep his fill. It open'd half the turnpike-gates to heaven (St. of eggs. since so long they lay A mast was almost crumbled to a crutch. cheated. And the young beams of the excluded sun.but she forgot That at this moment Juan knew it not. even as the tongue and pen). Paul says. and. 't is the toll which must be given). She and her maid. she thought it best (A virgin always on her maid relies) To place him in the cave for present rest: And when.and promised by daybreak To pay him a fresh visit.

And thus like to an angel o'er the dying Who die in righteousness. But up she got. one's fate. . I say.but the sea is not red. she saw That like an infant Juan sweetly slept. And call'd her father's old slaves up. though a feverish flush Had dyed it with the headlong blood. yet rapidly. quite as fresh and fair. Or the Red Sea. that drank his scarce-drawn breath. turning o'er Dream'd of a thousand wrecks. And so all ye. And then she stopp'd. I 've seen him rise full oft. And night is flung off like a mourning suit Worn for a husband. that makes Sweet skies just when he rises. And Haidee met the morning face to face. And young Aurora kiss'd her lips with dew. whose race From heart to cheek is curb'd into a blush. That overpowers some Alpine river's rush. you rose at four. Taking her for a sister.his hardships were comparative To those related in my grand-dad's 'Narrative. and stood as if in awe (For sleep is awful). while the mountains still are wet With mist. and every bird with him awakes. And when into the cavern Haidee stepp'd All timidly.Armenian. And near the cave her quick light footsteps drew. o'er which she stumbled. she lean'd. as physicians say. the sun is a most glorious sight.or some other brute. Her own was freshest. And 't is.. While the sun smiled on her with his first flame. whose waves in circles spread. of not being air. begin your day to date From daybreak. Like to a torrent which a mountain's base. And woke her maid so early that she grumbled. Although the mortal. And started from her sleep. too raw. And down the cliff the island virgin came. just the same Mistake you would have made on seeing the two. and there All tranquilly the shipwreck'd boy was lying. for none Had suffer'd more. and on tiptoe crept And wrapt him closer.And need he had of slumber yet. Engrave upon the plate. And handsome corpses strew'd upon the shore. Should reach his blood. Had all the advantage. indeed of late I have sat up on purpose all the night. lest the air.' Not so Haidee: she sadly toss'd and tumbled. and up she made them get. and GreekThey knew not what to think of such a freak. no doubt. who swore In several oaths. Turk. and when coffin'd at fourscore. Which hastens. With some pretence about the sun. or is set. and. then o'er him still as death Bent with hush'd lips. too. a sight to see when breaks Bright Phoebus. who would be in the right In health and purse. Checks to a lake.

low and sweet. so that even when he pray'd He turn'd from grisly saints. Although his woes had turn'd him rather yellow. Soft as the callow cygnet in its nest.and betimes. he was a very pretty fellow. Her eyes were eloquent. She knew that the best feelings must have victual. fish. honey. She drew out her provision from the basket. Because her mistress would not let her break That sleep which seem'd as it would ne'er awake. bread. In short.and all for love. And thus upon his elbow he arose.. and must not talk. being less in love. in good modern Greek. But there were eggs. . And she bent o'er him. lest they should ask it. her words would pose. all damp and salt. And his black curls were dewy with the spray. He woke and gazed. coffee. As with an effort she began to speak. and weak. no doubt the youthful pair Must breakfast. Fair as the crowning rose of the whole wreath. And look'd upon the lady. and he lay beneath. And that a shipwreck'd youth would hungry be. Which weigh'd upon them yet. Mix'd with the stony vapours of the vault. and on his thin worn cheek A purple hectic play'd like dying day On the snow-tops of distant hills. but eat. a sign her finger drew on Her lip.As o'er him the calm and stirless air: But Zoe the meantime some eggs was frying. Where the blue veins look'd shadowy. she yawn'd a little. To the sweet portraits of the Virgin Mary. And felt her veins chill'd by the neighbouring sea. Although she told him. in whose cheek The pale contended with the purple rose. With Scio wine. And Zoe. Now Juan could not understand a word. would fain have waken'd Juan. And. I can't say that she gave them any tea. Droop'd as the willow when no winds can breathe. Lull'd like the depth of ocean when at rest. the streak Of sufferance yet upon his forehead lay. and The coffee made. which Zoe needs must understand. With an Ionian accent. prepared a new one. and martyrs hairy. But the fair face which met his eyes forbade Those eyes to close. Since. the first breakfast spoilt. though weariness and pain Had further sleep a further pleasure made. and would have slept again. she cook'd their breakfast to a tittle. Hush'd as the babe upon its mother's breast. shrunk. That he was faint. when the eggs were ready. not money. fruit. And so. And without word. Besides. For woman's face was never form'd in vain For Juan. But Haidee stopp'd her with her quick small hand. For still he lay. after all.

Being no Grecian; but he had an ear, And her voice was the warble of a bird, So soft, so sweet, so delicately clear, That finer, simpler music ne'er was heard; The sort of sound we echo with a tear, Without knowing why- an overpowering tone, Whence Melody descends as from a throne. And Juan gazed as one who is awoke By a distant organ, doubting if he be Not yet a dreamer, till the spell is broke By the watchman, or some such reality, Or by one's early valet's cursed knock; At least it is a heavy sound to me, Who like a morning slumber- for the night Shows stars and women in a better light. And Juan, too, was help'd out from his dream, Or sleep, or whatso'er it was, by feeling A most prodigious appetite: the steam Of Zoe's cookery no doubt was stealing Upon his senses, and the kindling beam Of the new fire, which Zoe kept up, kneeling To stir her viands, made him quite awake And long for food, but chiefly a beef-steak. But beef is rare within these oxless isles; Goat's flesh there is, no doubt, and kid, and mutton; And, when a holiday upon them smiles, A joint upon their barbarous spits they put on: But this occurs but seldom, between whiles, For some of these are rocks with scarce a hut on; Others are fair and fertile, among which This, though not large, was one of the most rich. I say that beef is rare, and can't help thinking That the old fable of the MinotaurFrom which our modern morals rightly shrinking Condemn the royal lady's taste who wore A cow's shape for a mask- was only (sinking The allegory) a mere type, no more, That Pasiphae promoted breeding cattle, To make the Cretans bloodier in battle. For we all know that English people are Fed upon beef- I won't say much of beer, Because 't is liquor only, and being far From this my subject, has no business here; We know, too, they very fond of war, A pleasure- like all pleasures- rather dear; So were the Cretans- from which I infer That beef and battles both were owing to her. But to resume. The languid Juan raised His head upon his elbow, and he saw A sight on which he had not lately gazed, As all his latter meals had been quite raw, Three or four things, for which the Lord he praised, And, feeling still the famish'd vulture gnaw, He fell upon whate'er was offer'd, like

A priest, a shark, an alderman, or pike. He ate, and he was well supplied: and she, Who watch'd him like a mother, would have fed Him past all bounds, because she smiled to see Such appetite in one she had deem'd dead; But Zoe, being older than Haidee, Knew (by tradition, for she ne'er had read) That famish'd people must be slowly nurst, And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst. And so she took the liberty to state, Rather by deeds than words, because the case Was urgent, that the gentleman, whose fate Had made her mistress quit her bed to trace The sea-shore at this hour, must leave his plate, Unless he wish'd to die upon the placeShe snatch'd it, and refused another morsel, Saying, he had gorged enough to make a horse ill. Next they- he being naked, save a tatter'd Pair of scarce decent trowsers- went to work, And in the fire his recent rags they scatterd, And dress'd him, for the present, like a Turk, Or Greek- that is, although it not much matter'd, Omitting turban, slippers, pistols, dirk,They furnish'd him, entire, except some stitches, With a clean shirt, and very spacious breeches. And then fair Haidee tried her tongue at speaking, But not a word could Juan comprehend, Although he listen'd so that the young Greek in Her earnestness would ne'er have made an end; And, as he interrupted not, went eking Her speech out to her protege and friend, Till pausing at the last her breath to take, She saw he did not understand Romaic. And then she had recourse to nods, and signs, And smiles, and sparkles of the speaking eye, And read (the only book she could) the lines Of his fair face, and found, by sympathy, The answer eloquent, where soul shines And darts in one quick glance a long reply; And thus in every look she saw exprest A world of words, and things at which she guess'd. And now, by dint of fingers and of eyes, And words repeated after her, he took A lesson in her tongue; but by surmise, No doubt, less of her language than her look: As he who studies fervently the skies Turns oftener to the stars than to his book, Thus Juan learn'd his alpha beta better From Haidee's glance than any graven letter. 'T is pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes- that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been; They smile so when one 's right, and when one 's wrong

They smile still more, and then there intervene Pressure of hands, perhaps even a chaste kiss;I learn'd the little that I know by this: That is, some words of Spanish, Turk, and Greek, Italian not at all, having no teachers; Much English I cannot pretend to speak, Learning that language chiefly from its preachers, Barrow, South, Tillotson, whom every week I study, also Blair, the highest reachers Of eloquence in piety and proseI hate your poets, so read none of those. As for the ladies, I have nought to say, A wanderer from the British world of fashion, Where I, like other 'dogs, have had my day,' Like other men, too, may have had my passionBut that, like other things, has pass'd away, And all her fools whom I could lay the lash on: Foes, friends, men, women, now are nought to me But dreams of what has been, no more to be. Return we to Don Juan. He begun To hear new words, and to repeat them; but Some feelings, universal as the sun, Were such as could not in his breast be shut More than within the bosom of a nun: He was in love,- as you would be, no doubt, With a young benefactress,- so was she, Just in the way we very often see. And every day by daybreak- rather early For Juan, who was somewhat fond of restShe came into the cave, but it was merely To see her bird reposing in his nest; And she would softly stir his locks so curly, Without disturbing her yet slumbering guest, Breathing all gently o'er his cheek and mouth, As o'er a bed of roses the sweet south. And every morn his colour freshlier came, And every day help'd on his convalescence; 'T was well, because health in the human frame Is pleasant, besides being true love's essence, For health and idleness to passion's flame Are oil and gunpowder; and some good lessons Are also learnt from Ceres and from Bacchus, Without whom Venus will not long attack us. While Venus fills the heart (without heart really Love, though good always, is not quite so good), Ceres presents a plate of vermicelli,For love must be sustain'd like flesh and blood,While Bacchus pours out wine, or hands a jelly: Eggs, oysters, too, are amatory food; But who is their purveyor from above Heaven knows,- it may be Neptune, Pan, or Jove. When Juan woke he found some good things ready, A bath, a breakfast, and the finest eyes That ever made a youthful heart less steady,

Besides her maid's as pretty for their size; But I have spoken of all this alreadyAnd repetition 's tiresome and unwise,Well- Juan, after bathing in the sea, Came always back to coffee and Haidee. Both were so young, and one so innocent, That bathing pass'd for nothing; Juan seem'd To her, as 'twere, the kind of being sent, Of whom these two years she had nightly dream'd, A something to be loved, a creature meant To be her happiness, and whom she deem'd To render happy; all who joy would win Must share it,- Happiness was born a twin. It was such pleasure to behold him, such Enlargement of existence to partake Nature with him, to thrill beneath his touch, To watch him slumbering, and to see him wake: To live with him forever were too much; But then the thought of parting made her quake; He was her own, her ocean-treasure, cast Like a rich wreck- her first love, and her last. And thus a moon roll'd on, and fair Haidee Paid daily visits to her boy, and took Such plentiful precautions, that still he Remain'd unknown within his craggy nook; At last her father's prows put out to sea For certain merchantmen upon the look, Not as of yore to carry off an Io, But three Ragusan vessels, bound for Scio. Then came her freedom, for she had no mother, So that, her father being at sea, she was Free as a married woman, or such other Female, as where she likes may freely pass, Without even the incumbrance of a brother, The freest she that ever gazed on glass; I speak of Christian lands in this comparison, Where wives, at least, are seldom kept in garrison. Now she prolong'd her visits and her talk (For they must talk), and he had learnt to say So much as to propose to take a walk,For little had he wander'd since the day On which, like a young flower snapp'd from the stalk, Drooping and dewy on the beach he lay,And thus they walk'd out in the afternoon, And saw the sun set opposite the moon. It was a wild and breaker-beaten coast, With cliffs above, and a broad sandy shore, Guarded by shoals and rocks as by an host, With here and there a creek, whose aspect wore A better welcome to the tempest-tost; And rarely ceased the haughty billow's roar, Save on the dead long summer days, which make The outstretch'd ocean glitter like a lake. And the small ripple spilt upon the beach

Scarcely o'erpass'd the cream of your champagne, When o'er the brim the sparkling bumpers reach, That spring-dew of the spirit! the heart's rain! Few things surpass old wine; and they may preach Who please,- the more because they preach in vain,Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, Sermons and soda-water the day after. Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; The best of life is but intoxication: Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk The hopes of all men, and of every nation; Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion: But to return,- Get very drunk; and when You wake with headache, you shall see what then. Ring for your valet- bid him quickly bring Some hock and soda-water, then you 'll know A pleasure worthy Xerxes the great king; For not the bless'd sherbet, sublimed with snow, Nor the first sparkle of the desert-spring, Nor Burgundy in all its sunset glow, After long travel, ennui, love, or slaughter, Vie with that draught of hock and soda-water. The coast- I think it was the coast that Was just describing- Yes, it was the coastLay at this period quiet as the sky, The sands untumbled, the blue waves untost, And all was stillness, save the sea-bird's cry, And dolphin's leap, and little billow crost By some low rock or shelve, that made it fret Against the boundary it scarcely wet. And forth they wander'd, her sire being gone, As I have said, upon an expedition; And mother, brother, guardian, she had none, Save Zoe, who, although with due precision She waited on her lady with the sun, Thought daily service was her only mission, Bringing warm water, wreathing her long tresses, And asking now and then for cast-off dresses. It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill, Which then seems as if the whole earth it bounded, Circling all nature, hush'd, and dim, and still, With the far mountain-crescent half surrounded On one side, and the deep sea calm and chill Upon the other, and the rosy sky, With one star sparkling through it like an eye. And thus they wander'd forth, and hand in hand, Over the shining pebbles and the shells, Glided along the smooth and harden'd sand, And in the worn and wild receptacles Work'd by the storms, yet work'd as it were plann'd, In hollow halls, with sparry roofs and cells, They turn'd to rest; and, each clasp'd by an arm,

Nor offer'd any. Where heart. A long.And all the burning tongues the passions teach Found in one sigh the best interpreter Of nature's oracle. and sense.no doubt they never reckon'd.she adored. And beauty.and. and the starlight bay. ask'd no vows. like swarming bees they clungTheir hearts the flowers from whence the honey sprung. and love.for a kiss's strength. Such kisses as belong to early days. Whence the broad moon rose circling into sight. And if they had. but they felt allured. . and the pulse a blaze. theirs endured Heaven knows how long. They look'd up to the sky. And. they thought a language there. They fear'd no eyes nor ears on that lone beach. vast and bright.that all Which Eve has left her daughters since her fall. beholding this. And the blood 's lava. Or perils by a loving maid incurr'd. she had never heard Of plight and promises to be a spouse. they were All in all to each other: though their speech Was broken words. Which.first love. never having dreamt of falsehood. And she was worshipp'd. and that their life could never die. Each kiss a heart-quake. and clung into a kiss. I think. but not alone as they Who shut in chambers think it loneliness. They were alone. whose floating glow Spread like a rosy ocean. The twilight glow which momently grew less. Their lips drew near. And flew to her young mate like a young bird. As if there were no life beneath the sky Save theirs.But by degrees their senses were restored.Yielded to the deep twilight's purple charm. after nature's fashion. and was beloved. kindled from above. and soul. all concentrating like rays Into one focus. Their intense souls. she Had not one word to say of constancy. it must be reckon'd by its length. The silent ocean. Haidde spoke not of scruples. And saw each other's dark eyes darting light Into each other. She was all which pure ignorance allows. in concert move.. and the wind so low. made them to each other press. By length I mean duration.. had perish'd in that passion. a kiss of youth. They gazed upon the glittering sea below. into each other pour'd. being join'd. As if their souls and lips each other beckon'd. They felt no terrors from the night. long kiss. The voiceless sands and dropping caves. She loved. They heard the wave's splash. If souls could die. they could not have secured The sum of their sensations to a second: They had not spoken. that lay Around them.

A sailor when the prize has struck in fight. and drinks his sighs. and his around her lies Half buried in the tresses which it grasps. loving. and the hour Was that in which the heart is always full. All that it hath of life with us is living. helpless. And now and then her eye to heaven is cast. And. such a pair Had run the risk of being damn'd for ever. . but all tenderly. and proved. Pillow'd on her o'erflowing heart. which pants With all it granted. Sustain'd his head upon her bosom's charms. But pays off moments in an endless shower Of hell-fire. Half naked.and that hour Of Love's. An infant when it gazes on a light. She slept not. but not such true joy are reaping As they who watch o'er what they love while sleeping. Alas! for Juan and Haidee! they were So loving and so lovely. Haidee's heart Felt as if never more to beat apart. And then on the pale cheek her breast now warms. though fast. And Haidee. So lonely. And all unconscious of the joy 't is giving.Again to be o'ercome. And thus they form a group that 's quite antique. O'erflow'd her soul with their united power. and Ocean's solitude. natural.all prepared for people giving Pleasure or pain to one another living. So gentle.but forgot Just in the very crisis she should not. And hell and purgatory. A miser filling his most hoarded chest. Had. heard about the Stygian river. They look upon each other. until they end in broken gasps. so beautiful. Feel rapture. All it hath felt. helpless. He hers. And when those deep and burning moments pass'd. For there it lies so tranquil.till then never. and with all it grants. Excepting our first parents. and their eyes Gleam in the moonlight. and unmoved. and her white arm clasps Round Juan's head. Hush'd into depths beyond the watcher's diving: There lies the thing we love with all its errors And all its charms. loving. A devotee when soars the Host in sight. beating 'gainst his bosom. stirless. And. like death without its terrors. Alas! they were so young. and Night's. She sits upon his knee. and Greek. so beloved. doubtless. Prompts deeds eternity can not annul. pass'd. again to dash on. having o'er itself no further power. inflicted. being devout as well as fair. And Juan sunk to sleep within her arms. The lady watch'd her lover. A child the moment when it drains the breast. An Arab with a stranger for a guest.

to man so oft unjust. and to repeat Fine truths. Theirs being an unnatural situation. Their priest was Solitude.on the lone shore were plighted Their hearts. and crushing. even Conscience. Love! of whom great Caesar was the suitor. she was one Made but to love. Haidee was Passion's child. and all 's over. yet. their bursting hearts despond Over their idol. for man. And all the stars that crowded the blue space Saw nothing happier than her glowing face. Deadly. Some mind their household. and the cave their bed. nursing. others dissipation.and what rests beyond? A thankless husband. till some wealthier lust Buys them in marriage. From the dull palace to the dirty hovel: Some play the devil. and earth paradise. has a tough job To make us understand each good old maxim. She had naught to fear. beyond. that beat! How much it costs us! yet each rising throb Is in its cause as its effect so sweet. next a faithless lover. the stars. too. shed Beauty upon the beautiful they lighted: Ocean their witness. and but exchange their cares. and scorches even the kiss Of his gazelle-eyed daughters. as real Torture is theirs. praying. nor love. care. Then dressing. So good. And if 't is lost. That Wisdom. life hath no more to bring To them but mockeries of the past alone. Losing the advantage of a virtuous station. And their revenge is as the tiger's spring. one sole bond Awaits them. Alas! the love of women! it is known To be a lovely and a fearful thing. ever on the watch to rob Joy of its alchymy. By their own feelings hallow'd and united. They are right. what they inflict they feel. Haidee was Nature's bride. And now 't was done. For all of theirs upon that die is thrown. Taught to conceal. Few changes e'er can better their affairs.Amidst the barren sand and rocks so rude She and her wave-worn love had made their bower. to feel that she was his Who was her chosen: what was said or done Elsewhere was nothing. and they were wed: And they were happy. Some take a lover. And oh! that quickening of the heart. and knew not this. Is always so to women.I wonder Castlereagh don't tax 'em. Where nought upon their passion could intrude. her heart beat here. for to their young eyes Each was an angel. Hope. some take drams or prayers. born where the sun Showers triple light. Some run away. and then write a novel. treachery is all their trust. . Oh. and quick. their nuptial torches.

with air so Grecian (Though she was masqued then as a fair Venetian).. But Juan! had he quite forgotten Julia? And should he have forgotten her so soon? I can't but say it seems to me most truly Perplexing question. Mahomet. But soon Philosophy came to my aid. Sappho the sage blue-stocking. and as in the niche A lovely statue we almost adore. Heaven! her eye! I'll just inquire if she be wife or maid. oh. Yet to these four in three things the same luck holds. but. Or neither. And yet last night. we cannot call thee devil. If only from the devil they would insure us. and then. This sort of adoration of the real . 'Think of every sacred tie!' 'I will. condemn. Antony the slave. Catullus. Ovid tutor. Their lives and fortunes were extremely various. 't is her boon. I saw the prettiest creature. a material crew! Who to immoral courses would allure us By theories quite practicable too. Thou mak'st the chaste connubial state precarious. and cuckolds. For. They all were heroes. Love! thou art the very god of evil. 'But then her teeth. 'Stop!' so I stopp'd. Love. And whisper'd. and whenever newly Strong palpitation rises. Thou mak'st philosophers. in whose grave All those may leap who rather would be neuter (Leucadia's rock still overlooks the wave)Oh. my dear Philosophy!' I said. what can the rest avail us?' So said the royal sage Sardanapalus. constant love.Titus the master. detest. there 's Epicurus And Aristippus. the moon Does these things for us.I loathe. Which gave me some sensations like a villain. drink. 'Eat. has been my constant guest. Belisarius.out of curiosity. being at a masquerade. scholars. Such worthies Time will never see again. and love. after all. How pleasant were the maxim (not quite new).' 'Stop!' cried Philosophy. Else how the devil is it that fresh features Have such a charm for us poor human creatures? I hate inconstancy. fresh from Milan. Abhor.But to return: that which Men call inconstancy is nothing more Than admiration due where nature's rich Profusion with young beauty covers o'er Some favour'd object. And jestest with the brows of mightiest men: Caesar and Pompey. Have much employ'd the muse of history's pen. Horace. abjure the mortal made Of such quicksilver clay that in his breast No permanent foundation can be laid. no doubt. conquerors.

Platonic. Muse! et cetera. a part of heaven. That all the rest creep in and form a junction. too.So that all mischiefs spring up from this entrail. And loved by a young heart.' In the mean time. And. why . And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weeping. Like earthquakes from the hidden fire call'd 'central. But very rarely executes its function. Without which life would be extremely dull. And darkness and destruction as on high: But when it hath been scorch'd. compunction. Its storms expire in water-drops. and riven. Now o'er it clouds and thunder must be driven. or twenty-four. and pierced. That being about the number I 'll allow Each canto of the twelve. Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast. In short.. just To hint that flesh is form'd of fiery dust. Love! what is it in this world of ours Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah. Life knots of vipers on a dunghill's soil. Whereas if one sole lady pleased for ever. The liver is the lazaret of bile. 'T would save us many a heartache.We left Juan sleeping. many a shilling (For we must get them any how or grieve). CANTO_THE_THIRD CANTO THE THIRD. too deeply blest To feel the poison through her spirit creeping.Rage. Drawn from the stars.Is but a heightening of the 'beau ideal. jealousy. And turn'd her pure heart's purest blood to tears! Oh. laying down my pen. I make my bow. revenge. How pleasant for the heart as well as liver! The heart is like the sky. A fine extension of the faculties. Yet 't is a painful feeling. fear. With one or two small senses added. without proceeding more In this anatomy. it is the use of our own eyes. Which make the English climate of our years. Had soil'd the current of her sinless years. But changes night and day. universal. and filter'd through the skies. hate. I 've finish'd now Two hundred and odd stanzas as before. HAIL. Or know who rested there. and unwilling. Leaving Don Juan and Haidee to plead For them and theirs with all who deign to read. like the sky. the eye Pours forth at last the heart's blood turn'd to tears. For the first passion stays there such a while. For surely if we always could perceive In the same object graces quite as killing As when she rose upon us like an Eve. a foe to rest.' 'T is the perception of the beautiful. wonderful.

is rare). There 's doubtless something in domestic doings Which forms. They sometimes also get a little tired (But that. He would have written sonnets all his life? . Men grow ashamed of being so very fond. And fits her loosely. except despair? The same things change their names at such a rate. her first of love affairs Is that to which her heart is wholly granted. in fact. Between their present and their future state. also crime. like vinegar from wineA sad. whene'er you like to prove her: One man alone at first her heart can move.passion in a lover 's glorious. who have had none. I know not if the fault be men's or theirs. She then prefers him in the plural number. Sad thought! to lose the spouse that was adorning Our days. no doubt. and then despond: The same things cannot always be admired. Which grows a habit she can ne'er get over. And place them on their breast. sober beverage. And made thy best interpreter a sigh? As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers. they say. Yet 't is 'so nominated in the bond. But in a husband is pronounced uxorious. But one thing 's pretty sure.like an easy glove. Although. But only give a bust of marriages. Yet there are some. There 's something of antipathy. a woman planted (Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers) After a decent time must be gallanted. There 's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss: Think you. Romances paint at full length people's wooings. and a fearful sign Of human frailty. and put one's servants into mourning. That love and marriage rarely can combine. true love's antithesis.but place to dieThus the frail beings we would fondly cherish Are laid within our bosoms but to perish. as 't were.' That both are tied till one shall have expired. sour. Marriage from love. As you may find. In all the others all she loves is love. 'T is melancholy. A kind of flattery that 's hardly fair Is used until the truth arrives too lateYet what can people do. Not finding that the additions much encumber. Although they both are born in the same clime. But those who have ne'er end with only one. if Laura had been Petrarch's wife.by time Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour Down to a very homely household savour. folly. For instance. of course.With cypress branches hast thou Wreathed thy bowers. For no one cares for matrimonial cooings. In her first passion woman loves her lover.

By swamping one of the prizes. All comedies are ended by a marriage. in fact. ere one tires. took an humbler range Of life.happy in the illicit Indulgence of their innocent desires. Whilst her piratical papa was cruising. Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange. it don't ask much to mar): But Dante's Beatrice and Milton's Eve Were not drawn from their spouses. and some important captures. it is not fair. Before the consequences grow too awful. and 't is nothing but taxation. And merely practised as a sea-attorney. And. For into a prime minister but change His title. Thus she came often.All tragedies are finish'd by a death. but The fault was theirs. at sea remain'd. But he. At least in the beginning. for some bar Of fault or temper ruin'd the connection (Such things. then. Then if you 'd have them wedded. Although my opinion may require apology. But more imprudent grown with every visit. in the hope of more. you conceive. The only two that in my recollection Have sung of heaven and hell. 'T is dangerous to read of loves unlawful. in any way to put The blame on me. When we have what we like. and of both the affection Was hapless in their nuptials. and not a mistress. Deem this a commentator's fantasy. or marriage. Unless indeed it was from his own knowledge he Decided thus.I. Yet they were happy. And then both worlds would punish their miscarriage. please to shut The book which treats of this erroneous pair. he had chain'd His prisoners. Chaste reader. unless you wish they were. not mine.. Haidee and Juan were not married. I think that Dante's more abstruse ecstatics Meant to personify the mathematics. more modest. So leaving each their priest and prayer-book ready. For authors fear description might disparage The worlds to come of both. Although a squall or two had damp'd his raptures. Some persons say that Dante meant theology By Beatrice. The future states of both are left to faith. or fall beneath. They say no more of Death or of the Lady. and show'd good reason why. and in an honester vocation Pursued o'er the high seas his watery journey. Haidee forgot the island was her sire's. not a moment losing. The good old gentleman had been detain'd By winds and waves. dividing them like chapters . 't is hard to miss it. Although he fleeced the flags of every nation. are Dante and Milton.

What singular emotions fill Their bosoms who have been induced to roam! With fluttering doubts if all be well or illWith love for many. French stuffs. a Dutch mastiff. He caged in one huge hamper altogether. And bring our hearts back to their starting-post. The merchandise was served in the same way. toothpicks. Guitars and castanets from Alicant. Then having settled his marine affairs. The approach of home to husbands and to sires. which once had been a Briton's. and with fears for some. Reserved for future ransom. Except some certain portions of the prey. So that all hands were busy beyond measure. a mackaw. Among his friends the Mainots. His port lay on the other side o' the isle. After long travelling by land or water. save one man Toss'd overboard unsaleable (being old). guns. The rest.save here and there some richer one. as for the common people he Had a large order from the Dey of Tripoli. and treasure. A monkey. Having no custom-house nor quarantine To ask him awkward questions on the way About the time and place where he had been: He left his ship to be hove down next day. In getting out goods. All feelings which o'erleap the years long lost. Robb'd for his daughter by the best of fathers.In number'd lots. He stopp'd. The peasants gave the poor dumb thing a pittance.in the hold Were link'd alike. some he sold To his Tunis correspondents.. He chose from several animals he sawA terrier. too. Light classic articles of female want. Despatching single cruisers here and there. And rough with reefs which ran out many a mile. with a Persian cat and kittens. His vessel having need of some repairs. With orders to the people to careen. Arriving at the summit of a hill Which overlook'd the white walls of his home. And averaged each from ten to a hundred dollars. Some he disposed of off Cape Matapan. they all had cuffs and collars. ballast. These to secure in this strong blowing weather. And there he went ashore without delay. Most naturally some small doubt inspiresA female family 's a serious matter . tray. Two parrots. But that part of the coast being shoal and bare. He shaped his course to where his daughter fair Continued still her hospitable cares. Who dying on the coast of Ithaca. lace. teapot. Pieced out for different marts in the Levant. tweezers. All which selected from the spoil he gathers.

and shortly after. had no notion Of the true reason of his not being sad. And daughters sometimes run off with the butler. Write odes on the Inconstancy of Woman. And still more nearly to the place advancing.(None trusts the sex more. and perceived between The umbrage of the wood so cool and dun The moving figures. who had Much less experience of dry land than ocean. An honest gentleman at his return May not have the good fortune of Ulysses. He may resume his amatory care As cavalier servente. He heard his rivulet's light bubbling run. for the happy pair May quarrel.and two or three young misses Born to some friend.I mean An honest friendship with a married ladyThe only thing of this sort ever seen To last. Surprised at these unwonted signs of idling. I 've known the absent wrong'd four times a day. The odds are that he finds a handsome urn To his memory. But not knowing metaphysics. and a drum. A most unoriental roar of laughter. . Or that of any other strong emotion. who holds his wife and riches. He saw his white walls shining in the sun.bites him by the breeches. The distant dog-bark. His garden trees all shadowy and green. A pipe. If single. so I never flatter). too. The cause being past his guessing or unriddling. our sea-solicitor. Wives in their husbands' absences grow subtler. and the sparkling sheen Of arms (in the East all arm). But knew the cause no more than a philosopher. Descending rather quickly the declivity. And oh! ye gentlemen who have already Some chaste liaison of the kind. But all the better. He hears. or despise her. probably his plighted fair Has in his absence wedded some rich miser. Or show the same dislike to suitors' kisses. felt glad. earthly sound of fiddling! A melody which made him doubt his ears. and the lady growing wiser. as bright as butterflies. On seeing his own chimney-smoke. Lambro. Not all lone matrons for their husbands mourn. He loved his child. or so much admiresBut they hate flattery. And that his sorrow may not be a dumb one. But an unhallow'd. And as the spot where they appear he nears.and various dyes Of colour'd garbs.alas! no music of the spheres. And the true Hymen (the first 's but a screen)Yet for all that keep not too long away. and would have wept the loss of her.And that his Argus.of all connections the most steady.

To which the Levantines are very partial. Song.Through the waved branches o'er the greensward glancing. .that they should e'er grow older. And further on a group of Grecian girls. Afar. their long tresses. who turn as on a pivot. A band of children. by one sole act. and then Yielding to their small hands. Transform'd their lords to beasts (but that 's a fact). Of secret treasures found in hidden vales. Small social parties just begun to dine. he Perceived it was the Pyrrhic dance so martial. draws back again. Their leader sang. music. the eye that speaks. Above them their dessert grew on its vine. and dancing. But Lambro saw all these things with aversion. Crimson as cleft pomegranates. round a snow-white ram. Link'd hand in hand. Perceiving in his absence such expenses. scarce pluck'd. The inflammation of his weekly bills. And here. The patriarch of the flock all gently cowers His sober head. 'Midst other indications of festivity. The orange and pomegranate nodding o'er Dropp'd in their laps. There wreathe his venerable horns with flowers. Of wonderful replies from Arab jokers. All pretty pastimes in which no offence is.and bounded to her song. With choral step and voice. Here was no lack of innocent diversion For the imagination or the senses. Seeing a troop of his domestics dancing Like dervises. a dwarf buffoon stood telling tales To a sedate grey circle of old smokers. dance. stories from the Persian. assembled cross-legg'd round their trays. wine. Pilaus and meats of all sorts met the gaze. The gesture which enchants. their mellow store. Their large black eyes. Dreading that climax of all human ills. Their classical profiles. the virgin throng. Or eats from out the palm. While peaceful as if still an unwean'd lamb. Made quite a picture of these little Greeks. majestically tame. Of charms to make good gold and cure bad ails. Of rocks bewitch'd that open to the knockers. The innocence which happy childhood blesses. or playful lowers His brow. and soft seraphic cheeks. And flasks of Samian and of Chian wine. as if in act to butt. each too having Down her white neck long floating auburn curls (The least of which would set ten poets raving). Were strung together like a row of pearls. The first and tallest her white kerchief waving. So that the philosophical beholder Sigh'd for their sakes. Of magic ladies who. and glittering dresses. And sherbet cooling in the porous vase.

No courtier could. which. Her father's hospitality seem'd middling. meat. Tapping the shoulder of the nighest guest. so that no one stirr'd. The bloom. and scarcely woman can Gird more deceit within a petticoat. And put his house in mourning several weeks. He. wine. The vinous Greek to whom he had address'd . Pity he loved adventurous life's variety. dancing. being return'd into their fount. Perhaps you think in stumbling on this feast He flew into a passion. He ask'd the meaning of this holiday. And long he paused to re-assure his eyes In fact much more astonish'd than delighted. To find so much good company invited. To teach his people to be more exact.He was the mildest manner'd man That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat: With such true breeding of a gentleman. A life which made them happy beyond measure. And that. He was so great a loss to good society. Hence all this rice. and wishing gladly to surprise (In general he surprised men with the sword) His daughter. at least) 's a siren.. Perhaps you prophesy some sudden act. You 're wrong. too. whatever it express'd. With a peculiar smile. the young beginner. Which turn'd the isle into a place of pleasure.had not sent before to advise Of his arrival.But now their eyes and also lips were dry. Her tears. or dungeon at the least. and fiddling. Compared with what Haidee did with his treasure. Boded no good. Advancing to the nearest dinner tray. She now kept house upon her own account. He show'd the royal penchants of a pirate.being a man who seldom used a word Too much. the rack. Pleasure (whene'er she sings. too.Ah! what is man? what perils still environ The happiest mortals even after dinnerA day of gold from out an age of iron Is all that life allows the luckiest sinner. to flay alive. That lures. He did not know (alas! how men will lie) That a report (especially the Greeks) Avouch'd his death (such people never die). You never could divine his real thought. had return'd to Haidee's cheeks. by the way. 'T was wonderful how things went on improving. The whip. proceeding at a very high rate. and in fact There was no mighty reason to be pleased. Lambro's reception at his people's banquet Was such as fire accords to a wet blanket. The servants all were getting drunk or idling. While she had not one hour to spare from loving.

and Lambro's visage fellAnd o'er his eye a momentary gloom Pass'd. Which scarce even France. . and said.' 'Our mistress!' quoth a third: 'Our mistress!. So that the few who met him hardly heeded. His own anxiety. his heart. Who all the time was eating up his mutton. or but the chainIt may seem strange to find his manners bland. and proceeded On to the house. but he strove quite courteously to quell The expression. So little they expected him that day.and little care.not the old. bleeding. And that good wine ne'er wash'd down better fare. Now in a person used to much commandTo bid men come.' I said that Lambro was a man of patience. the paragon of nations. he shed no blood. 'I know not. For none likes more to hear himself converse. and endeavouring to resume His smile. which I can not explain. Presented the o'erflowing cup. but new. too. And without turning his facetious head. I have no time to spare. But this I know. knew not whom They thus address'd. but by a private way. Direct your questions to my neighbour there. that this roast capon 's fat. Over his shoulder. of every servile glutton.' A second hiccup'd. 'who or what He is. and slow. requested one of them to tell The name and quality of his new patron. He 'll answer all for better or for worse. and come againTo see his orders done. Not that he was not sometimes rash or so. 'Talking 's dry work. and go. with a Bacchant air. He lay coil'd like the boa in the wood. Yet such things are. You 'd better ask our mistress who 's his heir. He bore these sneers against his near relations. too. Who seem'd to have turn'd Haidee into a matron. But never in his real and serious mood. E'er saw her most polite of sons exceeding.' quoth the fellow. nor whence he came. Though doubtless he who can command himself Is good to govern. out of handWhether the word was death. and still.' These rascals. fill'd up a glass of wine. much too merry to divine The questioner. And his one blow left little work for two. He ask'd no further questions. And certainly he show'd the best of breeding. 'Our old master 's dead. being new comers. Then calm. The insults.His question. concentrated. And if you are not satisfied with that.almost as a Guelf. too. His angry word once o'er.pooh!You mean our master. But in his silence there was much to rue. With him it never was a word and blow.

is more than I can say. or a great many. there he long had dwelt. But something of the spirit of old Greece Flash'd o'er his soul a few heroic rays. And harder for the heart to overcome. if not wholly good. and felt The solitude of passing his own door Without a welcome. Had cost his enemies a long repentance. Of mild demeanour though of savage mood. For without hearts there is no home.his home no more. as in food. in vengeance of her degradation. is a deep grief. The present weather would be much more rainyTears shed into the grave of the connection Would share most probably its resurrection. and strong to bear. Perhaps. The mercy he had granted oft abused. returning. But certainly to one deem'd dead. Moderate in all his habits. if a husband or his wife (Nuptial examples are as good as any). There his worn bosom and keen eye would melt Over the innocence of that sweet child. And made him a good friend. This revel seem'd a curious mode of mourning. If all the dead could now return to life (Which God forbid!) or some. There his few peaceful days Time had swept o'er. His only shrine of feelings undefiled. The love of power. To find our hearthstone turn'd into a tomb. The wild seas. For instance. He enter'd in the house no more his home. A thing to human feelings the most trying. Quick to perceive.If love paternal in his bosom pleaded For Haidee's sake. but bad acquaintance. His country's wrongs and his despair to save her Had stung him from a slave to an enslaver. No doubt whate'er might be their former strife. He was a man of a strange temperament. The dangerous life in which he had grown old. Still o'er his mind the influence of the clime Shed its Ionian elegance. and rapid gain of gold. T is true he had no ardent love for peaceAlas! his country show'd no path to praise: Hate to the world and war with every nation He waged. and meant For something better. The sights he was accustom'd to behold. The hardness by long habitude produced. which show'd . than even the mental pangs of dying. Such as lit onward to the Golden Fleece His predecessors in the Colchian days. Beyond a single gentleman's belief. He enter'd in the house. And round its once warm precincts palely lying The ashes of our hopes. and content With temperance in pleasure. and wild men with whom he cruised.

which makes it best for use. and a joy in flowers. The cubless tigress in her jungle raging Is dreadful to the shepherd and the flock. and in a sire. Lamb and pistachio nuts.in short. Gems. But violent things will sooner bear assuaging. gold. A love of music and of scenes sublime. Mother of pearl and coral the less costly. Yet a fine family is a fine thing (Provided they don't come in after dinner). It is a hard although a common case To find our children running restive. single. The beverage was various sherbets Of raisin. The ocean when its yeasty war is waging Is awful to the vessel near the rock. Our little selves re-form'd in finer clay. And turn him like the Cyclops mad with blindness. Than the stern. But in good company. Meantime the lady and her lover sate At wassail in their beauty and their pride: An ivory inlaid table spread with state Before them. And saffron soups. A pleasure in the gentle stream that flow'd Past him in crystal. and pomegranate juice.Its power unconsciously full many a time. she had been The only thing which kept his heart unclosed Amidst the savage deeds he had done and seen. The dinner made about a hundred dishes. all meats. orange.the gout or stone. and silver. A lady with her daughters or her nieces Shines like a guinea and seven-shilling pieces. and wordless ire Of a strong human heart. Squeezed through the rind. And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day. A lonely pure affection unopposed: There wanted but the loss of this to wean His feelings from all milk of human kindness. . Bedew'd his spirit in his calmer hours. They kindly leave us. and the fishes Were of the finest that e'er flounced in nets.they In whom our brightest days we would retrace. And stood within his hall at eventide. deep. Old Lambro pass'd unseen a private gate. Drest to a Sybarite's most pamper'd wishes. Their fury being spent by its own shock. Just as old age is creeping on apace. and sweetbreads. though not quite alone. But whatsoe'er he had of love reposed On that beloved daughter.A taste seen in the choice of his abode. Like cherubs round an altar-piece they cling To the fire-side (a sight to touch a sinner). 'T is beautiful to see a matron bring Her children up (if nursing them don't thin her). form'd the service mostly. and fair slaves on every side.

and love are able To do not much less damage than the table. Soft Persian sentences. or Eclectic (For that 's the name they like to pray beneath)But most. to the mind The words which shook Belshazzar in his hall. or the moralists their betters. These Oriental writings on the wall. from whose glowing centre grew A sun emboss'd in gold. each of different hue. Had done their work of splendour. The upper border. Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure. are a kind Of monitors adapted to recall. richly wrought. Crystal and marble. Fretted with gold or silver:. And took his kingdom from him: You will find. In small fine China cups. stood at hand. from Arabia pure. And fruits. Are things that really take away the breath. border'd with pale blue. Their sofa occupied three parts complete Of the apartment. Or were of tortoise-shell or rare woods made. by degradation) mingled there As plentiful as in a court.and appear'd quite new.These were ranged round. And Mocha's berry. There was no want of lofty mirrors. and such like things. and date-bread loaves closed the repast. which (I think) they spoil'd. Indian mats And Persian carpets. Gold cups of filigree made to secure The hand from burning underneath them placed. that gain Their bread as ministers and favourites (that 's To say.And show that late hours. cinnamon. Over the floors were spread. From poets. A beauty at the season's close grown hectic. wine. And round them ran a yellow border too. plate and porcelain. or fair. display'd. There is no sterner moralist than Pleasure. Quite common in those countries. whose rays of tissue. Embroider'd delicately o'er with blue. came in at last. The greater part of these were ready spread . which the heart bled to stain. A genius who has drunk himself to death. And dwarfs and blacks. And thick with damask flowers of silk inlaid. in lilac letters. an alderman struck apoplectic. gazelles and cats. each in its crystal ewer. Haidee and Juan carpeted their feet On crimson satin. Cloves. Meridian-like. were seen all light to issue. The velvet cushions (for a throne more meet) Were scarlet. and saffron too were boil'd Up with the coffee.by command. Like skulls at Memphian banquets. made Of velvet panels. The hangings of the room were tapestry. and The tables. A rake turn'd methodistic. most of ebony inlaid With mother of pearl or ivory.

The very air seem'd lighter from her eyes. her veil's fine fold Below her breast was fasten'd with a band Of lavish pearls. Her overpowering presence made you feel It would not be idolatry to kneel. They were so soft and beautiful. Her orange silk full Turkish trousers furl'd About the prettiest ankle in the world. The henna should be deeply dyed to make The skin relieved appear more fairly fair. but again The power of art was turn'd to nothing. The glossy rebels mock'd the jetty stain. Lockless. So beautiful. flow'd round her. clinging as if loath to lose its hold. The purest ore enclosed the whitest skin That e'er by precious metal was held in. All gold and crimson shone her jelick's fellow. With buttons form'd of pearls as large as peas. Her eyelashes. She had no need of this. and sought to shun Their bonds whene'er some Zephyr caught began To offer his young pinion as her fan. Of azure. And.and would conceal Her person if allow'd at large to run.and wineKept for all comers at all hours to dine. For those large black eyes were so blackly fringed. but in vain. Of all the dresses I select Haidee's: She wore two jelicks. Around. as princess of her father's land. And in their native beauty stood avenged: Her nails were touch'd with henna. The limb which it adorn'd its only mould. were tinged (It is the country's custom). Round her she made an atmosphere of life.. A like gold bar above her instep roll'd Announced her rank. though dark as night.its very shape would charm. One large gold bracelet clasp'd each lovely arm. and rife With all we can imagine of the skies. Her hair's long auburn waves down to her heel Flow'd like an Alpine torrent which the sun Dyes with his morning light. Her hair was starr'd with gems. Like fleecy clouds about the moon. And pure as Psyche ere she grew a wifeToo pure even for the purest human ties.one was of pale yellow. And still they seem resentfully to feel The silken fillet's curb. day ne'er will break On mountain tops more heavenly white than her: . twelve rings were on her hand. And the striped white gauze baracan that bound her. whose worth could scarce be told. pink.With viands and sherbets in ice. for They could not look more rosy than before.so pliable from the pure gold That the hand stretch'd and shut it without harm. and white was her chemise'Neath which her breast heaved like a little billow.

Whose rays shone ever trembling. a sad trimmer. Like small stars through the milky way apparent. and made them speeches when half mellow. Had been the favourite of full many a mess Of men. But he had genius. The last was of great fame. And for his theme. Their poet. An Eastern anti-jacobin at last He turn'd.the third canto. As the psalm says. but incessant. 't is very silly 'To gild refined gold. I might err. and a poet. His turban. Yet still they deign'd to hiccup or to bellow The glorious meed of popular applause. but no less In company a very pleasant fellow. But a white baracan. and house. Which made their new establishment complete. He lied with such a fervour of intentionThere was no doubt he earn'd his laureate pension.he knew the way to wheedle: So vile he 'scaped the doom which oft avenges. Dwarfs..and the pretty pairTheir loves.he seldom sung below it.what was it?Oh!. Even good men like to make the public stare:But to my subject. Of which the first ne'er knows the second cause. and dress. And having pick'd up several odds and ends . and feasts. He was a man who had seen many changes. dancing girls. And though his meaning they could rarely guess. preferring pudding to no praiseFor some few years his lot had been o'ercast By his seeming independent in his lays. And always changed as true as any needle. An emerald aigrette with Haidee's hair in 't Surmounted as its clasp. and liked to show it: His verses rarely wanted their due feet. She was so like a vision. 'inditing a good matter. black eunuchs. or paint the lily' Juan had on a shawl of black and gold. His polar star being one which rather ranges. But now he sung the Sultan and the Pacha With truth like Southey. And not the fix'd.The eye might doubt if it were well awake.let me see. And now they were diverted by their suite. And being fluent (save indeed when fee'd ill). Reversing the good custom of old days. and abused the past.when a turncoat has it. But now being lifted into high society.a glowing crescent. But Shakspeare also says. and mode Of living in their insular abode. furl'd in many a graceful fold.' He praised the present. and with verse like Crashaw. The 'Vates irritabilis' takes care That without notice few full moons shall pass it. and so transparent The sparkling gems beneath you might behold. He being paid to satirize or flatter.

. singing as he sung in his warm youth.Of free thoughts in his travels for variety. In Italy he 'd ape the 'Trecentisti.'God save the king. usually. He deem'd.' a piece Of conduct was which he observed in Greece. for instance. Agree to a short armistice with truth. He had travell'd 'mongst the Arabs. he Might for long lying make himself amends. And having lived with people of all ranks. The hero's harp. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis. And knew the self-loves of the different nations. That. He varied with some skill his adulations. And ships. is set. lay below. he would write a chanson. when he was ask'd to sing. without any danger of a riot.' The mountains look on MarathonAnd Marathon looks on the sea. In Spain. To 'do at Rome as Romans do. Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires' 'Islands of the Blest. Have found the fame your shores refuse. And men in nations. The Scian and the Teian muse. From the high lyric down to the low rational: If Pindar sang horse-races. among friends. Turks. And musing there an hour alone. the lover's lute.all were his! He counted them at break of day- . I dream'd that Greece might still be free. what should hinder Himself from being as pliable as Pindar? In France.' In Greece. the Pegasus he 'd prance on Would be old Goethe's (see what says De Stael). Thus. Where grew the arts of war and peace. Had something ready upon most occasionsWhich got him a few presents and some thanks. In England a six canto quarto tale. and Franks.' Or 'Ca ira. he'd make a ballad or romance on The last war. except their sun. by thousands. He gave the different nations something national. he sing some sort of hymn like this t' ye: THE ISLES OF GREECE. and Phoebus sprung! Eternal summer gilds them yet. The isles of Greece.' according to the fashion all: His muse made increment of any thing. For standing on the Persians' grave. being in a lone isle. 'T was all the same to him. Where Delos rose. the Isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung. I could not deem myself a slave.much the same in Portugal. But all. In Germany. And.

And there. some seed is sown.the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall. Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons.but served PolycratesA tyrant. But one arise. And shed the blood of Scio's vine! Hark! rising to the ignoble callHow answers each bold Bacchanal! You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet. in the dearth of fame. My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless nowThe heroic bosom beats no more! And must thy lyre. In vain.we come. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! On Suli's rock. Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore. but our masters then Were still.Our fathers bled. Must we but weep o'er days more blest? Must we but blush?. why forget The nobler and the manlier one? You have the letters Cadmus gaveThink ye he meant them for a slave? Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! We will not think of themes like these! It made Anacreon's song divine: He served. perhaps. we come!' 'T is but the living who are dumb. silent still? and silent all? Ah! no. at least. Degenerate into hands like mine? 'T is something. our countrymen. That tyrant was Miltiades! Oh! that the present hour would lend Another despot of the kind! Such chains as his were sure to bind. The tyrant of the Chersonese Was freedom's best and bravest friend. Even as I sing.. so long divine.for Greece a tear.. To feel at least a patriot's shame. And answer. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three. Though link'd among a fetter'd race. 'Let one living head.And when the sun set where were they? And where are they? and where art thou. . For what is left the poet here? For Greeks a blush.in vain: strike other chords. To make a new Thermopylae! What. Fill high the cup with Samian wine! Leave battles to the Turkish hordes. suffuse my face. and Parga's shore.

think. perhaps millions. Some dull MS. And feeling. when paper. generation. To think such breasts must suckle slaves Place me on Sunium's marbled steep. May hear our mutual murmurs sweep. Until his late life by Archdeacon Coxe. and all that 's his. or nothing. but they are such liars. and Latin fraud. his grave a blank. 'T is strange. produces That which makes thousands. A little heavy. illusion. and native ranks. nothing. let me sing and die: A land of slaves shall ne'er be mineDash down yon cup of Samian wine! Thus sung. And when his bones are dust.The Heracleidan blood might own.so we say.right or wrong. But gazing on each glowing maid. The modern Greek. But Turkish force. Survives himself. his tomb. words. The only hope of courage dwells. is the source Of others' feeling. as a rare deposit. His station. even his nation. 'T is something. My own the burning tear-drop laves. If not like Orpheus quite. May turn his name up. or should have sung. in a poet. In native swords. swan-like. Where nothing. Trust not for freedom to the FranksThey have a king who buys and sells. Would break your shield. or could. windDepending more upon the historian's style Than on the name a person leaves behind: Troy owes to Homer what whist owes to Hoyle: The present century was growing blind To the great Marlborough's skill in giving knocks. however broad. And take all colours. oblivion long has sank. Yet in these times he might have done much worse: His strain display'd some feeling. the shortest letter which man uses Instead of speech. to what straits old Time reduces Frail man. in tolerable verse.like the hands of dyers. may form a lasting link Of ages. Falling like dew. but no less divine: An independent being in his day- . Milton 's the prince of poets. And glory long has made the sages smile. upon a thought. save to rank In chronological commemoration. There. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Our virgins dance beneath the shadeI see their glorious black eyes shine. when Greece was young. Or graven stone found in a barrack's station In digging the foundation of a closet. and a small drop of ink. But words are things. or would.even a rag like this. save the waves and I. Become a thing.

A drowsy frowzy poem. And the new births of both their stale virginities Have proved but dropsies. it is digressionLeaving my people to proceed alone. who then Season'd his pedlar poems with democracy. Their loyal treason. like Joanna Southcote's Shiloh. not quite so great as Ariosto. When he and Southey. like Southey. We learn from Horace. If I have any fault.. But let me to my story: I must own. renegado rigour.Learn'd. Like Cromwell's pranks. following the same path. We 're told this great high priest of all the Nine Was whipt at college. Like Shakspeare's stealing deer. is bigger Than any since the birthday of typography. All are not moralists. entertaining facts. but 't would not be hard to bring Some fine examples of the epopee. long before his flighty pen Let to the Morning Post its aristocracy. temperate in love and wine.. Such names at present cut a convict figure.so few are the elect. his life falling into Johnson's way.' . Are things which in this century don't strike The public mind. when He prated to the world of 'Pantisocracy.odd spouse.' Writ in a manner which is my aversion. But. Like Burns (whom Doctor Currie well describes). call'd the 'Excursion. For the first Mrs. Or Coleridge. pious. Like Titus' youth.a harsh sire. They do not much contribute to his glory.but although truth exacts These amiable descriptions from the scribes. Espoused two partners (milliners of Bath). certes. But Wordsworth's poem. taken for divinities. but have the thing In that complete perfection which ensures An epic from Bob Southey every spring). All these are. by the way. The very Botany Bay in moral geography. But these are my addresses from the throne. As most essential to their hero's story. Wordsworth's last quarto. and his followers. Milton left his house. To prove its grand ingredient is ennui. and her sect. He there builds up a formidable dyke Between his own and others' intellect. and Caesar's earliest acts. Form not the true temptation which allures The reader. 'Homer sometimes sleeps.' Or Wordsworth unexcised. Which put off business to the ensuing session: Forgetting each omission is a loss to The world. Lord Bacon's bribes. unhired. I know that what our neighbours call 'longueurs' (We 've not so good a word. While I soliloquize beyond expression. Are good manure for their more bare biography.

' And drivels seas to set it well afloat..We feel without him. Some kinder casuists are pleased to say. left alone. the spot. Ave Maria! 't is the hour of prayer! Ave Maria! 't is the hour of love! Ave Maria! may our spirits dare Look up to thine and to thy Son's above! Ave Maria! oh that face so fair! Those downcast eyes beneath the Almighty doveWhat though 't is but a pictured image?.that I have no devotion.strikeThat painting is no idol. And he must needs mount nearer to the moon. The rosy flood of twilight's sky admired. But set those persons down with me to pray. And every sound of revelry expired.The feast was over. That heavenliest hour of Heaven is worthiest thee! Ave Maria! blessed be the hour! The time. where I so oft Have felt that moment in its fullest power Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft. but from the bathos' vast abyss Floats scumlike uppermost. With his dear 'Waggoners.. Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft.. My altars are the mountains and the ocean. of air. and then he makes Another outcry for 'a little boat. And you shall see who has the properest notion Of getting into heaven the shortest way. And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer.' around his lakes. The lady and her lover. In nameless print. While swung the deep bell in the distant tower.Ave Maria! o'er the earth and sea. are we come to this? That trash of such sort not alone evades Contempt. If he must fain sweep o'er the ethereal plain.No. Earth. and these Jack Cades Of sense and song above your graves may hissThe 'little boatman' and his 'Peter Bell' Can sneer at him who drew 'Achitophel'! T' our tale. air. He wishes for 'a boat' to sail the deepsOf ocean?. Could not the blockhead ask for a balloon? 'Pedlars.' and 'Boats. the slaves gone. . The Arab lore and poet's song were done.' Could he not beg the loan of Charles's Wain? Or pray Medea for a single dragon? Or if. stars.' and 'Waggons!' Oh! ye shades Of Pope and Dryden. He fear'd his neck to venture such a nag on. And not a breath crept through the rosy air. The dwarfs and dancing girls had all retired. the clime. And Pegasus runs restive in his 'Waggon. Wordsworth sometimes wakes.'t is too like.To show with what complacency he creeps.all that springs from the great Whole. too classic for his vulgar brain.

in the solitude Of the pine forest. But I 'm digressing. Sweet hour of twilight!. To do with the transactions of my hero. Rooted where once the Adrian wave flow'd o'er.the moon's? Sure my invention must be down at zero. Seeming to weep the dying day's decay. unless I own The fact. Amidst the roar of liberated Rome. to the hungry cheer. The welcome stall to the o'erlabour'd steer. Thou bring'st the child. and I must cut down (In copying) this long canto into two. Is this a fancy which our reason scorns? Ah! surely nothing dies but something mourns! When Nero perish'd by the justest doom Which ever the destroyer yet destroy'd. Some hands unseen strew'd flowers upon his tomb: Perhaps the weakness of a heart not void Of feeling for some kindness done. Soft hour! which wakes the wish and melts the heart Of those who sail the seas. And vesper bell's that rose the boughs along. They 'll never find it out. To the young bird the parent's brooding wings. what on earth has Nero. More than such madmen's fellow man. Whate'er our household gods protect of dear. and the world overjoy'd. and will receive the soul. Of nations freed. and their chase. people of the pine. and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood.Who hath produced. when power Had left the wretch an uncorrupted hour. save my steed's and mine. Or any such like sovereign buffoons. . I feel this tediousness will never do'T is being too epic. How have I loved the twilight hour and thee! The shrill cicadas. Oh. Hesperus! thou bringest all good thingsHome to the weary.shadow'd my mind's eye.. Were the sole echoes. The spectre huntsman of Onesti's line. Evergreen forest! which Boccaccio's lore And Dryden's lay made haunted ground to me. Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way As the far bell of vesper makes him start. on the first day When they from their sweet friends are torn apart. and the fair throng Which learn'd from this example not to fly From a true lover. excepting some experienced few. to the mother's breast. And I grown one of many 'wooden spoons' Of verse (the name with which we Cantabs please To dub the last of honours in degrees). Making their summer lives one ceaseless song. too. Are gather'd round us by thy look of rest. To where the last Caesarean fortress stood. His hell-dogs. Whate'er of peace about our hearthstone clings.

As boy. A mortal mother would on Lethe fix.the blood flows on too fast.See poietikes. chaste dames. And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once romantic to burlesque. But as the torrent widens towards the ocean. will teach at last Man.. 'T is that I may not weep. kings despotic: But all these. and hard as his to mend. Ere what we least wish to behold will sleep: Thetis baptized her mortal son in Styx. A novel word in my vocabulary. CANTO_THE_FOURTH CANTO THE FOURTH. being obsolete.And then as an improvement 't will be shown: I 'll prove that such the opinion of the critic is From Aristotle passim. as we would hope. and if I weep. unless perhaps the end. But the fact is that I have nothing plann'd. And revell'd in the fancies of the time. That neither of their intellects are vast: While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel. And if I laugh at any mortal thing. We ponder deeply on each past emotion. For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning The race. And sharp Adversity. Being pride. But Time. he sprains a wing.perhaps the devil. And trace it in this poem every line: I don't pretend that I quite understand My own meaning when I would be very fine. Who sang when chivalry was more Quixotic. To the kind reader of our sober clime This way of writing will appear exotic.and. save the last. I chose a modern subject as more meet. They took it up when my days grew more mellow. And other minds acknowledged my dominion: Now my sere fancy 'falls into the yellow Leaf. . which leads the mind to soar too far. NOTHING so difficult as a beginning In poesy.' and Imagination droops her pinion. We know not this. I thought myself a clever fellow. Till our own weakness shows us what we are. which brings all beings to their level. for we must steep Our hearts first in the depths of Lethe's spring. Pulci was sire of the half-serious rhyme. and down we tend. 'T is that our nature cannot always bring Itself to apathy.. Some have accused me of a strange design Against the creed and morals of the land. And wish'd that others held the same opinion. Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning. Our sin the same. Unless it were to be a moment merry.. True knights. huge giants.

And many deaths do they escape by this: The death of friends. 'Whom the gods love die young. their great hearts to fail. they were never Weary. The precious porcelain of human clay. Though foe to love.' was said of yore. and but read Joy sparkling in their dark eyes like a gem.Would wither less than these two torn apart. But like the climes that know nor snow nor hail They were all summer: lightning might assail And shiver them to ashes. be it so. and yet they could not be Meant to grow old. Haidee and Juan thought not of the deadThe heavens. While life's strange principle will often lie Deepest in those who long the most to die. The blank grey was not made to blast their hair. Before one charm or hope had taken wing. but to trail A long and snake-like life of dull decay Was not for them. Break with the first fall: they can ne'er behold The long year link'd with heavy day on day. for them to be Thus was another Eden. And all which must be borne. and never told.the river Damm'd from its fountain. Young Juan and his lady-love were left To their own hearts' most sweet society. and since the silent shore Awaits at last even those who longest miss The old archer's shafts.the child from the knee And breast maternal wean'd at once for ever. They saw not in themselves aught to condemn: Each was the other's mirror. I do not know. Alas! there is no instinct like the heartThe heart. love. all that is. Except mere breath. and thoughts are free: Meantime Apollo plucks me by the ear. but what they wish'd to see: But if it gives them pleasure. Their faces were not made for wrinkles.which may be broken: happy they! Thrice fortunate! who of that fragile mould. and that which slays even moreThe death of friendship. Even Time the pitiless in sorrow cleft With his rude scythe such gentle bosoms. but die in happy spring. and earth. And tells me to resume my story here. and air. youth.How I have treated it. They were alone once more. Perhaps no better than they have treated me Who have imputed such designs as show Not what they saw. seem'd made for them: They found no fault with Time. This is a liberal age. their Pure blood to stagnate. .they had too little day. unless when separate: the tree Cut from its forest root of years. perhaps the early grave Which men weep over may be meant to save. save that he fled. he Sigh'd to behold them of their hours bereft.

Hard words. but dearest to their eyes. adventures of the common school. A language. which would seem absurd To those who have ceased to hear such. 't is an hour Dear unto all. and that which destroys Most love. An opium dream of too much youth and reading. But like two beings born from out a rill. The least glance better understood than words. For theirs were buoyant spirits. and ne'er could say too much. And children still they should have ever been. And Juan was a boy of saintly breeding. Known but to them. too. all unseen To pass their lives in fountains and on flowers. harsh truth. and flights. but in them were Inherent. So that there was no reason for their loves More than for those of nightingales or doves. marriages.re. Intrigues. Which perish in the rest. This is in others a factitious state. Enough. A nymph and her beloved. But was in them their nature or their fate: No novels e'er had set their young hearts bleeding. For Haidee's knowledge was by no means great. And these were not of the vain kind which cloys. Whose husband only knows her not a wh. for they were children still. Where Hymen's torch but brands one strumpet more. or ne'er heard. And we are sick of its hack sounds and sights. And never know the weight of human hours.The faithful and the fairy pair.All these were theirs. Which still said all. and the thrilling touch. unto them appear'd A thing which each endearment more endear'd. For it had made them what they were: the power Of love had first o'erwhelm'd them from such skies. Sweet playful phrases. Moons changing had roll'd on. though we deem it frantic.what we mortals call romantic. Oh beautiful! and rare as beautiful But theirs was love in which the mind delights To lose itself when the old world grows dull. They were not made in the real world to fill A busy character in the dull scene. never bound By the mere senses. What was it made them thus exempt from care? Young innate feelings all have felt below.And knew such brightness was but the reflection Of their exchanging glances of affection. at least appearing such As but to lovers a true sense affords. Who never found a single hour too slow. Its petty passions. And always envy. They gazed upon the sunset. The gentle pressure. .. a truth which many know. and changeless found Those their bright rise had lighted to such joys As rarely they beheld throughout their round. but like to that of birds. possession.

And no doubt of all methods 't is the best: Some people prefer wine. As if their last day! of a happy date With his broad. When one is shook in sound. His glance inquired of hers for some excuse For feelings causeless. or at least abstruse. Which mix'd all feelings. and silenced him with this.'t is not amiss. I know not why. And master'd by her wisdom or her pride. Juan gazed on her as to ask his fateHe felt a grief. I have tried both. And then dismiss'd the omen from her breast. It were much better to have both than neither. lover. it seem'd short. And thus some boding flash'd through either frame. according to your choice. For both sides I could many reasons show. When Juan spoke.. and yet can not love less. too. brother. All that the best can mingle and express When two pure hearts are pour'd in one another. And then decide.' Juan would question further. Even as they gazed. One of the two. That large black prophet eye seem'd to dilate And follow far the disappearing sun. but she press'd His lip to hers. then turn'd aside: Whatever feeling shook her. Defying augury with that fond kiss. child. and smiled. and heart in heart. And love too much.they had lived too long . a sudden tremor came. or a flame. But almost sanctify the sweet excess By the immortal wish and power to bless. across their hearts' delight. Charm'd with each other. she replied'If it should be so. but in that hour to-night. as 't were. but in that sort Which makes not others smile. you 'll have to undergo. Both maladies are taxes on our joys: But which to choose. and dropping orb were gone. And call'd from Juan's breast a faint low sigh. so those who would a part take May choose between the headache and the heartache.When happiness had been their only dower. And twilight saw them link'd in passion's ties. She turn'd to him. but knowing cause for none. And if I had to give a casting voice. Woman or wine. Mix'd in each other's arms. Like the wind o'er a harp-string. I really hardly know. bright. Juan and Haidee gazed upon each other With swimming looks of speechless tenderness. and one in sight. all things charm'd that brought The past still welcome as the present thought. While one new tear arose in Haidee's eye. Why did they not then die?. without great wrong to either.it cannot beOr I at least shall not survive to see. friend.it might be in sportOf this their mutual feeling.but. And swept.

Haidee and Juan their siesta took. so fierce and highEach broke to drown her. Anon. and her face so fair Stirr'd with her dream. And stumbled almost every step she made. And ran. And something roll'd before her in a sheet.she thought. and the loud roar Grew. . nor the world's art For beings passionate as Sappho's song. A gentle slumber. Where waves might wash. and each wave rose roughly. Strange state of being! (for 't is still to be) Senseless to feel. and seals might breed and lurk. for still she gazed. the gull and crow Flock o'er their carrion. Until she sobb'd for breath. and then she stray'd O'er the sharp shingles with her bleeding feet. they were Unfit to mix in these thick solitudes Call'd social. in them. but stir She could not from the spot. The eagle soars alone. The world was not for them. The mystical usurper of the mindO'erpowering us to be whate'er may seem Good to the soul which we no more can bind. was she shaken by the dream. Her hair was dripping. so intense. in loving sleep. but it escaped her as she clasp'd. and grasp'd. and shuddering o'er his frame would creep. nor stopp'd to meet Her glance nor grasp. and soon they were Foaming o'er her lone head. its walls Were hung with marble icicles. They should have lived together deep in woods. Unseen as sings the nightingale.not a sense. Years could but bring them cruel things or wrong. For ever and anon a something shook Juan. the work Of ages on its water-fretted halls. and Vice. and Care: How lonely every freeborn creature broods! The sweetest song-birds nestle in a pair. just like men below. and with seal'd eyes to see. and mirk The sharp rocks look'd below each drop they caught. when the wind Walks o'er it. as rose-leaves with the air. haunts of Hate. threatening her. Or as the stirring of a deep clear stream Within an Alpine hollow.Should an hour come to bid them breathe apart. It was their very spirit. The dream changed:. And o'er her upper lip they seem'd to pour. Love was born with them. Chain'd to a rock. She dream'd of being alone on the sea-shore. And Haidee's sweet lips murmur'd like a brook A wordless music. Which she must still pursue howe'er afraid: 'T was white and indistinct. Which froze to marble as it fell. Now pillow'd cheek to cheek.in a cave she stood. and the very balls Of her black eyes seem'd turn'd to tears. she knew not how. yet she could not die..she was released. but it was not deep.

't is her father's. In arms. Calm in his voice. And starting. can it be That doubt should mingle with my filial joy? Deal with me as thou wilt. 'Not while this arm is free. as if to see .yes. young man. and said. A thousand scimitars await the word. in whose cheek the blood Oft came and went. Oh! dearest father.fix'd upon the pair! Then shrieking.it must be. how idle seem'd they now!). till each traceMore like and like to Lambro's aspect grewWith all his keen worn look and Grecian grace.' so Lambro once more said: Juan replied. she awoke. hope and fear. Smiled scornfully.And wet. 't is'T is Lambro.' High and inscrutable the old man stood. And caught her falling. he Replied. but gave no reply.' The old man's cheek grew pale. but not with dread. Lay Juan.'t is my father! Kneel with meHe will forgive us. at least. And drawing from his belt a pistol. nor could aught renew the beat Of his quench'd heart.even while I kiss Thy garment's hem with transport. to see Him whom she deem'd a habitant where dwell The ocean-buried. And gazing on the dead. Up Juan sprung to Haidee's bitter shriek. And that brief dream appear'd a life too long.' Then look'd close at the flint. Then turn'd to Juan. 'Young man. as there resolved to die. in this agony Of pleasure and of pain. 'Juan. and cold. and shrieking fell. risen from death. your sword. in act to spring On the first foe whom Lambro's call might bring.yes. but spare this boy. and what to view? Oh! Powers of Heaven! what dark eye meets she there? 'T is.but must not call to mind. and from off the wall Snatch'd down his sabre. she arose. 'Within my call. in hot haste to wreak Vengeance on him who was the cause of all: Then Lambro. put up your silly sword.' And Haidee clung around him. Put up. and lifeless at her feet. With joy and sorrow. Pale as the foam that froth'd on his dead brow. 'Your blood be then on your own head. Which she essay'd in vain to clear (how sweet Were once her cares. to be Perchance the death of one she loved too well: Dear as her father had been to Haidee. he stood. she thought his face Faded. It was a moment of that awful kindI have seen such. and the sea dirges low Rang in her sad ears like a mermaid's song. or alter'd into something newLike to her father's features. and calm within his eyeNot always signs with him of calmest mood: He look'd upon her. who till now forbore to speak.

but sought not. and she had been all tears. And tenderness.how thou hast Done thine. 't was strange How like they look'd! the expression was the same.I will die with him: I knew Your nature's firmness. was as one who could avenge. and with a fix'd eye scann'd Her father's face. thus divided.for he had lately used the lockAnd next proceeded quietly to cock. and less nice. . 'let death Descend. as to look her through. then withdrew His weapon. Her father's blood before her father's face Boil'd up. this fatal shore He found. when joyous tears And sweet sensations should have welcomed both. and she on him. And now to see them. though tame. she woo'd the blow. A gentlemanly distance. too. But after being fired at once or twice.' she cried. twelve yards off. by my father's head. and stern. and proved her truly of his race. That cocking of a pistol. His own shall roll before you like a ball!' He raised his whistle. Show what the passions are in their full growth.' A minute past. She drew up to her height. statue-like. 'Not I. and their compeers. He gazed on her. Serenely savage. and forbear to kill. I have pledged my faith. not too near. as if to show A fairer mark. the present vouches for the past. and infancy. and one instant more Had stopp'd this Canto. 'have sought this stranger's ill. 'Let him disarm. such as true blood wears. And looking on her. their features and Their stature. And blew. another answer'd to the call. when you know A moment more will bring the sight to bear Upon your person. The father paused a moment. I said they were alike. If cause should be. as the word he said. It has a strange quick jar upon the ear. differing but in sex and years.a lioness. Not I have made this desolation: few Would bear such outrage. with a little change In the large dark eye's mutual-darted flame. but now She stood as one who champion'd human fearsPale. but stood still.' he said. Lambro presented. and replaced it. or. If you have got a former friend for foe. The ear becomes more Irish. When Haidee threw herself her boy before. I love him.but never stopp'd his hand. Even to the delicacy of their hand There was resemblance. But I must do my duty. or so.'T was fresh. stand In fix'd ferocity. Stern as her sire: 'On me. and Don Juan's breath.the fault is mine.know your daughter's too. And tall beyond her sex. For she.

And here was one exceedingly unpleasant: A gentleman so rich in the world's goods. like other nymphs. Unless when qualified with thee. a wary. for I grow pathetic. Wounded and chain'd. With the blood running like a little brook From two smart sabre gashes. Here I must leave him. Where lay some ships which were to sail at nine.'Arrest or slay the Frank. safeNot sound. I feel my heart become so sympathetic. but severely wounded. the other on the head. Wakes me next morning with its synonym. with strict orders to the watches. Cogniac! Sweet Naiad of the Phlegethontic rill! Ah! why the liver wilt thou thus attack. The second had his cheek laid open. and bore Juan from the apartment: with a sign Old Lambro bade them take him to the shore. one and all. On board of one of these. And then they bound him where he fell. They stow'd him. so that he cannot move. The file of pirates. For if my pure libations exceed three. with his right shoulder half cut through. green tea! Than whom Cassandra was not more prophetic. so well. rank on rank. Some twenty of his train came. 'Twixt her and Juan interposed the crew. though led. who Had fallen.' Then. .And rushing in disorderly. He gave the word. deep and redOne on the arm. as darts an angry asp. but rack (In each sense of the word). That I must have recourse to black Bohea: 'T is pity wine should be so deleterious. placed in line. I leave Don Juan for the present. His man was floor'd. And all because a lady fell in love. and plied the oar Until they reach'd some galliots. and then put His own well in. while compress'd within his clasp. took The blows upon his cutlass. but The third. and helpless at his foot. Just at the very time when he least broods On such a thing is suddenly to sea sent. They laid him in a boat. Handsome and young. And make. thy lovers ill? I would take refuge in weak punch. poor fellow. Moved by the Chinese nymph of tears.. save the foremost. he withdrew His daughter. The world is full of strange vicissitudes. with a sudden movement. In vain she struggled in her father's graspHis arms were like a serpent's coil: then flew Upon their prey. enjoying all the present. ere you could look. For tea and coffee leave us much more serious. and under hatches. cool old sworder. And arm'd from boot to turban. whene'er I fill My mild and midnight beakers to the brim.

fell she like a cedar fell'd.Yet could his corporal pangs amount to half Of those with which his Haidee's bosom bounded? She was not one to weep. there grain. her beautiful. And long. nor death destroy. from Fez. Thus much she view'd an instant and no more. And he himself o'ermaster'd and cut down. subdued because surrounded. and her sweet lips' pure dyes Were dabbled with the deep blood which ran o'er. Like summer clouds all silvery. Gush from the earth until the land runs o'er. The fire burst forth from her Numidian veins. And midnight listens to the lion's roar. A vein had burst. Or heaving whelm the helpless caravan. But her large dark eye show'd deep Passion's force. and flower. Where all is Eden. Like one life could not hold. But overwrought with passion and despair. And like the soil beneath it will bring forth: Beauty and love were Haidee's mother's dower. And then give way. and tempest to the air. . Of herbs and cordials they produced their store. long deserts scorch the camel's foot. many a poison-tree has root. Her daughter. which until now scarce held Her writhing. The Moorish blood partakes the planet's hour. Days lay she in that state unchanged. and as her earth Her human day is kindled. No hideous sign proclaim'd her surely dead. His blood was running on the very floor Where late he trod.Her struggles ceased with one convulsive groan. her own. too. or a wilderness. Though sleeping like a lion near a source. to look upon her sweet face bred New thoughts of life. Corruption came not in each mind to kill All hope. Had held till now her soft and milky way. for it seem'd full of soulShe had so much. so the heart of man. and fruit. burning from its birth. There the large olive rains its amber store In marble fonts. But there. The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore. smooth. and chafe. Her mother was a Moorish maid. Afric is all the sun's. and fair. And as the soil is. temper'd with a milder ray. But she defied all means they could employ. earth could not claim the whole. Till slowly charged with thunder they display Terror to earth. She had no pulse. though chillWith nothing livid. but death seem'd absent still. and rave. And her head droop'd as when the lily lies O'ercharged with rain: her summon'd handmaids bore Their lady to her couch with gushing eyes. still her lips were red. On her sire's arm. Even as the Simoom sweeps the blasted plains. full of power For good or evil.

She look'd on many a face with vacant eye.but all forgotGentle. She recognized no being. And ever-dying Gladiator's air. And whirl'd her brain to madness. Although her paroxysm drew towards its close. and no spot. On many a token without knowing what. But fix'd as marble's unchanged aspect throws O'er the fair Venus. for they are still the same. as on her foes. Not speechless. wax'd full of fearful meaning. A strange sensation which she must partake Perforce. the furies made a pause. though she spoke not. And he begun a long low island song Of ancient days. of having left the grave. Rather the dead. Their energy like life forms all their fame. O'er the Laocoon's all eternal throes. But no one ever heard her speak or shriek. Yet looks not life. They changed from room to room. At the first notes. And sung of love. However dear or cherish'd in their day. Then to the wall she turn'd as if to warp Her thoughts from sorrow through her heart re-sent. not a sigh Relieved her thoughts. but she heeded not. but not as sleepers wake. At length those eyes. And then a slave bethought her of a harp. She woke at length. though a heavy ache Lay at her heart. since whatsoever met her view Struck not on memory. Her father watch'd. she turn'd her eyes away.- . She saw them watch her without asking why. dull silence and quick chat Were tried in vain by those who served. save breath. And flew at all she met. she gave No sign. for life seem'd something new. such as marble shows When exquisitely chisell'd. irregular and sharp. Anon her thin wan fingers beat the wall In time to his old tune. the fierce name struck through all Her recollection. vain relief!. but for ever fair. whose earliest beat still true Brought back the sense of pain without the cause. but without memory she lay. and is. still lay there. on her flash'd the dream Of what she was.The ruling passion. for a while. Her handmaids tended. And reck'd not who around her pillow sat. Like mountain mists at length dissolved in rain.thought came too quick. in a gushing stream The tears rush'd forth from her o'erclouded brain. ere tyranny grew strong. and tuned his instrument. Short solace. On him her flashing eyes a moment bent. which they would fain be weaning Back to old thoughts. if ye could call To be so being. For. The harper came. he changed the theme. she arose As one who ne'er had dwelt among the sick.

her life paid for wrongA heavy price must all pay who thus err. Ye could not know where lies a thing so fair. or sigh. Without a groan. But let me change this theme which grows too sad. or shame. Mourns o'er the beauty of the Cyclades. and beauty dwelt with her: If she loved rashly. In some shape. in the hope to save. whereon she loved to dwell.the power seem'd gone for ever.Hers was a phrensy which disdain'd to rave. and many an islander With her sire's story makes the night less long. its tenants pass'd away. neither change of place. Twelve days and nights she wither'd thus. But closed its little being without light. Valour was his.thus died she. Even when they smote her. but none she ever could retrace. For fear of seeming rather touch'd myself- . Thus lived. And went down to the grave unborn. no tongue to say What was. except the hollow sea's. no dirge. That isle is now all desolate and bare. She was not made Through years or moons the inner weight to bear. Yet she betray'd at times a gleam of sense. let none think to fly the danger. But many a Greek maid in a loving song Sighs o'er her name. she held within A second principle of life. dull and slow. but she sleeps well By the sea-shore. but delightful. And nothing outward tells of human clay. And lay this sheet of sorrows on the shelf. or glance. nor skill. nor remedy. but not alone. Which colder hearts endure till they are laid By age in earth: her days and pleasures were Brief.the beautiful. never more on her Shall sorrow light. at last. the spirit from her past: And they who watch'd her nearest could not know The very instant. No stone is there to show. the blackOh! to possess such lustre. which might Have dawn'd a fair and sinless child of sin. Its dwellings down. In vain the dews of Heaven descend above The bleeding flower and blasted fruit of love.and then lack! She died. could give her Senses to sleep. to show A parting pang. and raiment. wherein Blossom and bough lie wither'd with one blight. Though on all other things with looks intense She gazed. None but her own and father's grave is there. Glazed o'er her eyes. For soon or late Love is his own avenger. Nor time. till the change that cast Her sweet face into shadow. no pretence Avail'd for either.such as had not staid Long with her destiny. I don't much like describing people mad. Nothing could make her meet her father's face. Food she refused.

Wounded and fetter'd. There. A vast. or ProtesilausAll heroes. who if living still would slay us. without marble or a name. The situation seems still form'd for fameA hundred thousand men might fight again With case. here permitted to emerge From his dull cabin. who appear'd To be Italians. I 've no more on this head to add. Don Juan. is (Flank'd by the Hellespont and by the sea) Entomb'd the bravest of the brave. he scarce could urge A few brief questions. Achilles. Juan was told about their curious case. but where I sought for Ilion's walls. A turk. They say so (Bryant says the contrary): And further downward. O'ershadow'd there by many a hero's grave. left half-kill'd some stanzas back. untill'd.Besides. But now was not much pleased with Cape Sigaeum. From them. still the same. found himself a slave. And Ida in the distance. Which was an odd one. and mountain-skirted plain. is The tumulus. and the tortoise crawls. And old Scamander (if 't is he) remain. And when he did. on the green and village-cotted hill. Sailing six knots an hour before the wind. as they were in fact.' Some days and nights elapsed before that he Could altogether call the past to mind. with beads in hand and pipe in mouth. the buffo of the party. their destiny he heard. Are what I found there. Ajax. 'cabin'd. here and there Some little hamlets. By one of these. confined. Forlorn. and gazing on the deep blue surge. The quiet sheep feeds. Troops of untended horses. duly rear'd In their vocation) had not been attack'd In sailing from Livorno by the pirate. at least. Weak still with loss of blood.of whom? Heaven knows! 't may be Patroclus. And as my Muse is a capricious elf.but the devil a Phrygian. We 'll put about. with new names uncouth. . But sold by the impresario at no high rate. The shores of Ilion lay beneath their leeAnother time he might have liked to see 'em. cribb'd. Some shepherds (unlike Paris) led to stare A moment at the European youth Whom to the spot their school-boy feelings bear. and try another tack With Juan. a troop going to act In Sicily (all singers. Extremely taken with his own religion. he found himself at sea. and the answers gave No very satisfactory information About his past or present situation. High barrows. tall and towering still. He saw some fellow captives.

though to hear him you 'd believe An ass was practising recitative. but she don't dance with vigour. 'As for the men. And haggard with a dissipated life. Showing a much more reconciled demeanour. Making a signal off some promontory. was fortunate last carnival. they are like The rest of all that tribe. 'The prima donna. which perhaps may strike. he had no singing education. too. There 's one. But being qualified in one way yet. there 's the Nini. The more 's the pity. And made at least five hundred good zecchini. The little fellow really look'd quite hearty. with here and there A pretty person. they are a middling set. They hired him. Has some good notes. May the seraglio do to set his face in. In a few words he told their hapless story.Corpo di Caio Mario! We were transferr'd on board her in a hurry. 'Our Machiavellian impresario. She. But if the Sultan has a taste for song. And bore him with some gaiety and grace. she has not now a paul. to cold. But being the prima donna's near relation. Saying. he Still kept his spirits up. . is pleasing to behold. In fact. Yet has a sentimental kind of air Which might go far. And as a servant some preferment get. Than did the prima donna and the tenor. Who swore his voice was very rich and mellow. though tall and stiffer than a pike. We will revive our fortunes before long. 'As for the figuranti. With more than one profession. The rest are hardly fitted for a fair. With no great voice. The musico is but a crack'd old basin. and then the tenor's wife.at least his face. tuneless fellow. gains by all. when the house is thin. But spends so fast. His singing I no further trust can place in: From all the Pope makes yearly 't would perplex To find three perfect pipes of the third sex. 'And then there are the dancers.such a dancer! Where men have souls or bodies she must answer. An ignorant. Last carnival she made a deal of strife By carrying off Count Cesare Cicogna From an old Roman princess at Bologna. the beast can only bellow. And then there 's the Grotesca. timeless. And subject. And for the bass. 'The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation. noteless. Hail'd a strange brig. Without a Single scudo of salario. Then there 's that laughing slut the Pelegrini. with her face and figure. though a little old.For although destined to the Turkish mart.

these two hated with a hate Found only on the stage. But bred within the March of old Ancona. He always is complaining of his lot.' Here Raucocanti's eloquent recital Was interrupted by the pirate crew. well as man to man. 'Arcades ambo. and not sweet. but bursting with conceit. Dancing all free and happy in the sun). an awkward thing at his age. If the soprano might be deem'd to be male.''T would not become myself to dwell upon My own merits. which speaks you one To whom the opera is by no means new: You 've heard of Raucocanti?. That each pull'd different ways with many an oath.that in the Dardanelles. But next. Lady to lady. For the slave market of Constantinople. The most imperative of sovereign spells. A pretty lad.' id est. Who came at stated moments to invite all The captives back to their sad berths. Instead of bearing up without debate. And then went down the hatchway one by one. when I 'm engaged to sing there. Waiting for his Sublimity's firman. Juan's companion was a Romagnole. 'Our baritone I almost had forgot. Who (after some discussion and some doubt.who. Having no heart to show. Pair'd off with a Bacchante blooming visage. Sir. Which every body does without who can. scarce fit for ballads in the street. Forsooth.do go. for they were so cross-grain'd. With Raucocanti lucklessly was chain'd The tenor. You was not last year at the fair of Lugo. With graceful action. each threw A rueful glance upon the waves (which bright all From the blue skies derived a double blue..I see. and though young. And through her dear brunette complexion shone . science not a jot. With eyes that look'd into the very soul (And other chief points of a 'bella donna'). It seems when this allotment was made out. and it happen'd the male Was Juan. They heard next day. and each more pain'd With this his tuneful neighbour than his fate. Sad strife arose. Bright. The time may come when you may hear me too.and as black and burning as a coal.blackguards both. A voice of no great compass. In lovers' parts his passion more to breathe. and odd female.I 'm the man. Were to be chain'd and lotted out per couple. More to secure them in their naval cells. he shows his teeth. They placed him o'er the women as a scout) Were link'd together.you Have got a travell'd air. There chanced to be an odd male.

than those two cantos into families.nor any handsome limb (And she had some not easy to withstand) Could stir his pulse. Ariosto. Here I might enter on a chaste description. I really think. the foster-babes of Fame. after all. I once had great alacrity in wielding My pen. And sigh to midnight winds. But all that power was wasted upon him. and liked poetic war to wage.a most attractive dower. but not to song. The grass upon my grave will grow as long. Too often in its fury overcoming all Who would as 't were identify their dust . And though thus chain'd. I 'm fond of yielding. Therefore I 'll make Don Juan leave the ship soon. No matter. And recollect the time when all this cant Would have provoked remarks which now it shan't. my boyhood liked a squabble. 't is nothing but cold snow. Having withstood temptation in my youth. Through needles' eyes it easier for the camel is To pass. as natural her hand Touch'd his. Of poets who come down to us through distance Of time and tongues. And therefore leave them to the purer page Of Smollett. For sorrow o'er each sense held stern command. Her eye might flash on his. And love of glory 's but an airy lust. Life seems the smallest portion of existence. As boys love rows. And so great names are nothing more than nominal. Who say strange things for so correct an age. Fielding. in sooth.' but few. but found it dim. But at this hour I wish to part in peace. 'T is as a snowball which derives assistance From every flake. and not much less real. Or of some centuries to take a lease. we should ne'er too much enquire. 'T is all the same to me. Even till an iceberg it may chance to grow.Great wish to please. and yet rolls on the same. Especially when added to the power. We will omit the proofs. But hear that several people take exception At the first two books having too much truth. yet Juan's then ordeal Was more triumphant. or make his faith feel brittle. Where twenty ages gather o'er a name. Because the publisher declares. And firmer faith no ladye-love desire. But. But facts are facts: no knight could be more true. nor that. Perhaps his recent wounds might help a little. Prior. Leaving such to the literary rabble: Whether my verse's fame be doom'd to cease While the right hand which wrote it still is able. save one or two: 'T is said no one in hand 'can hold a fire By thought of frosty Caucasus.

which first woke Song in the world. Until the memory of an age is fled. Men. The very generations of the dead Are swept away. and the poet's volume. will seek what then they sought. entombing all. which. not uncouthly hewn. Before Pelides' death. I pass each day where Dante's bones are laid: A little cupola. But spoil (I think) a very pretty poem. Will sink where lie the songs and wars of earth. when both alike decay'd. I canter by the spot each afternoon Where perish'd in his fame the hero-boy. While weeds and ordure rankle round the base. But which neglect is hastening to destroy. The chieftain's trophy. and thus lamented Should ever be those blood-hounds. And. and tomb inherits tomb. And lose their own in universal death. Who lived too long for men. With human blood that column was cemented. Oh! ye. sinks beneath its offspring's doom: Where are the epitaphs our fathers read? Save a few glean'd from the sepulchral gloom Which once-named myriads nameless lie beneath. more neat than solemn. And in such colours that they seem to live. Or at least was so ere it grew a fashion. Acquire the deep and bitter power to give Their images again as in a glass. As on the beach the waves at last are broke. Yet there will still be bards: though fame is smoke. The time must come. which is but passion. Its fumes are frankincense to human thought. You may do right forbidding them to show 'em. time will doubt of Rome. If in the course of such a life as was At once adventurous and contemplative. Records Ravenna's carnage on its face. Thus to their extreme verge the passions brought Dash into poetry. from whose wild Instinct of gore and glory earth has known Those sufferings Dante saw in hell alone. And the unquiet feelings. And heard Troy doubted. but reverence here is paid To the bard's tomb. buried. but died too soon For human vanity. who partake all passions as they pass. With human filth that column is defiled. Leaves nothing till 'the coming of the just'Save change: I 've stood upon Achilles' tomb. As if the peasant's coarse contempt were vented To show his loathing of the spot he soil'd: Thus is the trophy used. Protects his dust. and not the warrior's column. or Homer's birth. the young De Foix! A broken pillar. who make the fortunes of all books! Benign Ceruleans of the second sex! .From out the wide destruction.

The loveliest. from the plague being safe and sound. as poet Wordy swore (Because the world won't read him. Humboldt. That taste is gone. by some name I have forgot. Blue as the garters which serenely lie Round the Patrician left-legs. And there with Georgians.but no matter. Invented. all those things are over. say of you. fifteen hundred dollars For one Circassian.Who advertise new poems by your looks. and Circassians. 'the first of travellers. Lady Daphne! let me measure you! But to the narrative:. always snarling). They say your stockings are so (Heaven knows why. beautifully blue. You read my stanzas.quite a fool. a sweet girl.' like Yorick's starling. might be found At anchor under the seraglio wall. Bought up for different purposes and passions. best. one and all. Why then I 'll swear. And I. Who bade on till the hundreds reach'd eleven. were given. beauty's brightest colours Had deck'd her out in all the hues of heaven: Her sale sent home some disappointed bawlers. Those Cornish plunderers of Parnassian wrecks? Ah! must I then the only minstrel be. which adorn The festal midnight. and at once withdrew. After the usual process. they knew 'T was for the Sultan. and the levee morn. . chastest. Your 'imprimatur' will ye not annex? What! must I go to the oblivious cooks. Still I have no dislike to learned natures. And sigh. 'I can't get out. hot-press darling? To bear the compliments of many a bore. Drawn by the blue-coat misses of a coterie. but.' As some one somewhere sings about the sky. Warranted virgin. But when the offer went beyond. Yet some of you are most seraphic creaturesBut times are alter'd since. Her cargo.The vessel bound With slaves to sell off in the capital. Russians. By measuring 'the intensity of blue:' Oh. Were landed in the market. I knew one woman of that purple school. As well as the sublime discovery's date. Some went off dearly. For sometimes such a world of virtues cover. Proscribed from tasting your Castalian tea! What! can I prove 'a lion' then no more? A ball-room bard. I have examined few pair of that hue). if late accounts be accurate. with which he sought To ascertain the atmospheric state. a foolscap.' but not The last. and I read your features: And. An airy instrument. a rhyming lover. ye learned ladies. that fame is but a lottery. Oh! 'darkly. deeply.

Hoping no very old vizier might choose. Now. as one by one they pick'd 'em. How some to burdens were obliged to stoop. The twelve isles. Are saving. if my Pegasus should not be shod ill. . Olympus high and hoar. Plain. WHEN amatory poets sing their loves In liquid lines mellifluously bland. Till what is call'd in Ossian the fifth Juan. at last. Even Petrarch's self. or fourth wife. and by no means inviting. some by Jews.Twelve negresses from Nubia brought a price Which the West Indian market scarce would bring. howe'er unpleasant (Because this Canto has become too long).simple. and the more than I could dream. But with a moral to each error tack'd. As Ovid's verse may give to understand. Though Wilberforce. or victim: All this must be reserved for further song. How some were bought by pachas. Sophia's cupola with golden gleam. The European with the Asian shore Sprinkled with palaces. The greater their success the worse it proves. This poem will become a moral model. But could not for the muse of me put less in 't: And now delay the progress of Don Juan.short. Form'd rather for instructing than delighting. I have a passion for the name of 'Mary. And with all passions in their turn attack'd. I therefore do denounce all amorous writing. The cypress groves. Is the Platonic pimp of all posterity. They little think what mischief is in hand. To make a mistress. But for the destiny of this young troop. even the most exalted. And others rose to the command of crews As renegadoes. And still it half calls up the realms of fairy. Except in such a way as not to attract. I 'm sensible redundancy is wrong. Must be postponed discreetly for the present. for vice Is always much more splendid than a king: The virtues. present the very view Which charm'd the charming Mary Montagu. if judged with due severity. has made it twice What 't was ere Abolition. Also our hero's lot. And pair their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves. and the thing Need not seem very wonderful.' For once it was a magic sound to me. the ocean stream Here and there studded with a seventy-four. Far less describe. The females stood.vice spares nothing for a rarity. CANTO_THE_FIFTH CANTO THE FIFTH. while in hapless group. Charity.

And age. 'T was a raw day of Autumn's bleak beginning. Which must not be pathetically told. and repentance for past sinning In all. but this was last to vary. Upon the whole his carriage was serene: His figure. though pale. but not so the days. And now and then a tear stole down by stealth. and yet they don't. The wind swept down the Euxine. that is. With resolution in his dark grey eye. A man of thirty rather stout and hale. and the splendour of his dress. and such comfortable quarters. The Parcae then cut short the further spinning Of seamen's fates. A mistress. no doubt. giving them to guess He was above the vulgar by his mien. 'T is a grand sight from off 'the Giant's Grave To watch the progress of those rolling seas Between the Bosphorus. There 's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in. till some might choose to buy. was square . Like a backgammon board the place was dotted With whites and blacks.Where I beheld what never was to be. and home. they won't. When nights are equal. Juan was juvenile. A crowd of shivering slaves of every nation. Because if drown'd. And then. All feelings changed. All save the blacks seem'd jaded with vexation. of hope and health. and sex. To be put up for auction amongst Tartars. were in the market ranged.if spared. As most at his age are. Next Juan stood. and the wave Broke foaming o'er the blue Symplegades. as eels are to be flay'd. you being quite at ease.Used to it. Of which some gilded remnants still were seen.they calculated on his ransom. Were things to shake a stoic. Perhaps his recent loss of blood might pull His spirit down. The negroes more philosophy display'd. in groups on show for sale. Each bevy with the merchant in his station: Poor creatures! their good looks were sadly changed. and freedom far estranged.and let a tale grow cold. who o'er the great deep take their ways: They vow to amend their lives. as they lash and lave Europe and Asia. and thus was full. Drew all eyes on him. It chanced amongst the other people lotted. Yet I must own he looked a little dull. and the loud tempests raise The waters. ne'ertheless. they can't. And then. From friends. he was so very handsome. A spell from which even yet I am not quite free: But I grow sad. Though rather more irregularly spotted: Some bought the jet. Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine. while others chose the pale. and then the loss of wealth. He had an English look.

too. ''t were a tale distressing. And taking lately. She has served me also much the same as you. An open brow a little mark'd with care: One arm had on a bandage rather bloody.'Spanish!' he replied. To strive. But that 's her way with all men.Pray.' 'Pray. with our fate were such a strife As if the corn-sheaf should oppose the sickle: Men are the sport of circumstances.'I had. Of a high spirit evidently. when 't is long. 'amidst this motley crew Of Georgians. till they 're tried. And you an equal courtesy should show. that greater Could scarce be shown even by a mere spectator. So let us be acquainted.'Oh! nothing very rareSix Tartars and a drag-chain. and what not. a thing of course.In make. Nubians..'To this doom But what conducted. And there he stood with such sang-froid. And long besides. Will hardly leave you (as she 's not your wife) For any length of days in such a pickle. A town.but. 'T would give me pleasure. of a complexion white and ruddy. And. Which for himself he seem'd to deem no worse Than any other scrape. Those servile dogs are not so proudly eyed: Fortune has play'd you here a pretty freak. Good teeth.'. You 're right on both accounts to hold your tongue. But never mind. with curling rather dark brown hair.' 'Alas!' said Juan. All ragamuffins differing but in hue.she 'll turn.'Oh! if 't is really so. by God's blessing. Now I have answer'd all your questions without pressing. sir. With whom it is our luck to cast our lot.'.'I served for some Months with the Russian army here and there. you could not be a Greek. Have not been troubled with them lately. But seeing at his elbow a mere lad. 'But droop not: Fortune at your time of life. 'My boy!' said he. Russians. 'I thought. in fact. perhaps. when . by Suwarrow's bidding.. A sad tale saddens doubly.' 'Have you no friends?'. 'if I may presume. Is that which I would learn.'. The only gentlemen seem I and you. was ta'en myself instead of Widdin. Although a female moderately fickle. it might be from thought or toil or study.' said Juan. if the question's fair. Except that I have found it nothing new. What brought you here?'. he soon began to show A kind of blunt compassion for the sad Lot of so young a partner in the woe. next week. what is your nation?' When Juan answer'd. as we ought: If I could yield you any consolation. though At present weigh'd down by a doom which had O'erthrown even men.

of all flesh. and then dropp'd. 'T is not my present lot.did she. sir?' 'No. is gain'd.' quoth his friend.'Your third!' quoth Juan. 'what can a man do? There still are many rainbows in your sky. glue The glittering lime-twigs of our latter days. now. for instance. Commence with feelings warm. then.' 'No?' quoth the other.Love 's the first net which spreads its deadly mesh. 'Why. Vengeance.' 'Would we were masters now. 'but to resume. if but to try Their present lessons on our Pagan friends here.'What then?'.' said Juan. but for the past. too. for I have borne Hardships which have the hardiest overworn. Or fresher.' ''T is not. And one by one in turn.' said Juan.The circumstances seem the sport of men. Knowledge. faith.' 'You take things coolly. This skin must go the way. and our disasters May teach us better to behave when masters. And these are things which ask a tender tear. as I have said. some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake. We know what slavery is.swallowing a heart-burning sigh: 'Heaven help the scholar whom his fortune sends here!' 'Perhaps we shall be one day. Glory. and may be true. 'yet you will allow By setting things in their right point of view. brighter.' said Juan.only two at present above ground: Surely 't is nothing wonderful to see One person thrice in holy wedlock bound!' 'Well..'. Ambition. it gets another bright and fresh. 'On the rough deep. Which I deplore so much. your third. would shed if in your place: I cried upon my first wife's dying day. Avarice.' Said Juan. And also when my second ran away: 'My third-'.' . 'You scarcely can be thirty: have you three?' 'No.. ''T is true. turning round.' 'All this is very fine. too. 'but I really don't see how It betters present times with me or you. at least. 'what did she? She did not run away.' Said Juan. by and by. and his dark eye grew full of gloom. 'Ay. sir. All.' Replied the other. Or sometimes only wear a week or two.I loved a maid:'He paused. too. 'I thought it would appear That there had been a lady in the case. 'for my present doom I mourn. and prospects high. But mine have vanish'd. Where still we flutter on for pence or praise. when life is new. Such as I. A single tear upon his eyelash staid A moment. and turn'd away his face. But time strips our illusions of their hue.'I ran away from her.. but the year gone through. But this last blow-' and here He stopp'd again.

all men's lot: Most men are slaves. As is a slave by his intended bidder. having eyed them o'er with care. And all are to be sold. When dinner has opprest one. Society itself. if it were. About the right divine how far we should Sell flesh and blood.' Just now a black old neutral personage Of the third sex stept up. So that their bargain sounded like a battle For this superior yoke of human cattle. . as to discover If they were fitted for the purposed cage: No lady e'er is ogled by a lover. He 's wrong. when our bad luck mends here.men without a heart. none more so than the great. And capabilities. And pulling out reluctant purses. others by a warlike leader. and are dext'rous. which should create Kindness.so they did! As though they were in a mere Christian fair Cheapening an ox. Voltaire says 'No:' he tells you that Candide Found life most tolerable after meals. Until the sum was accurately scann'd. And conscience ask a curious sort of question. From crowns to kicks. And then the merchant giving change. Some by a place. broadcloth by a tailor. some by features Are bought up. To their own whims and passions. swore. They haggled. I think it is perhaps the gloomiest hour Which turns up out of the sad twenty-four. Fee by a counsel. destroys what little we had got: To feel for none is the true social art Of the world's stoics. and peering over The captives. an ass. and weighing others in their hand. and begun to bid First but for one.Rejoin'd the other. if you consider Their passions. according to their vices. a lamb. if also his digestion? Methinks at meals some odd thoughts might intrude. too. seem'd to mark their looks and age. and after for the pair. And by mistake sequins with paras jumbling.as tend their years or natures. wrangled. I wonder if his appetite was good? Or. and tumbling Some down. began to think of dining. 'T is pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures. and Turning each piece of silver o'er. and signing Receipts in full. Horse by a blackleg. Turn'd to the merchant. and what not. Meantime (yon old black eunuch seems to eye us) I wish to G_d that somebody would buy us! 'But after all. felon by a jailor.but all have prices.unless man were a pig. indeed. The eunuch. or kid. The most by ready cash. At last they settled into simple grumbling. what is our present state? 'T is bad. and may be better.

My hat and gloves still lying on the table. So calm. Makes us feel our mortality in fact Redoubled. heart. The scars of his old wounds were near his new. I gazed upon him. and left him there To perish on the pavement: so I had Him borne into the house and up the stair. and liver. never Saw one. "Go. He seem'd to sleep.. Can give us either pain or pleasure.' And they who waited once and worshipp'd.'t was eight o'clock scarce pastAnd. The trump and bugle till he spake were dumbAnd now nought left him but the muffled drum. with another act or two. .But why should I ad More circumstances? vain was every care. whom such an accident befell. and then no doubt he 's freed From his own brain's oppression while it reels. "come. and soup. as the centurion saith. And stripp'd and look'd to. or rather Ammon's (ill pleased with one world and one father). Of food I think with Philip's son. The man was gone: in some Italian quarrel Kill'd by five bullets from an old gun-barrel." and he goeth.Repletion rather adds to what he feels. time bled: And such an end! that he who many a day Had faced Napoleon's foes until they fled. And fish. running out as fast as I was able. though pierced through stomach.for you could scarcely tell (As he bled inwardly. when a roast and a ragout. I heard a shot. whose use Depends so much upon the gastric juice? The other evening ('t was on Friday last)This is a fact and no poetic fableJust as my great coat was about me cast. Should now be butcher'd in a civic alley.they With their rough faces throng'd about the bed To gaze once more on the commanding clay Which for the last. though not the first. that the act Of eating. Poor fellow! for some reason. for I knew him well. I thought or said'Can this be death? then what is life or death? Speak!' but he spoke not: 'Wake!' but still he slept:'But yesterday and who had mightier breath? A thousand warriors by his word were kept In awe: he said. They had slain him with five slugs. and able scarce to pant. I think with Alexander. Unless he 's drunk. I found the military commandant Stretch'd in the street.The foremost in the charge or in the sally. by some side dishes back'd. surely bad. no hideous river Of gore divulged the cause) that he was dead: So as I gazed on him. And though I have seen many corpses. who Would pique himself on intellects." and forth he stepp'd.

or shake. Besides. They look'd like persons being led to sentence. which tower'd on either hand: They almost lost their way.' But that of late your scribblers think it worth Their while to rear whole hotbeds in their works Because one poet travell'd 'mongst the Turks)As they were threading on their way.' 'Yes. first through a low thicket Flank'd by large groves. and just now would take. dark-green and tall. There being no such profusion in the North Of oriental plants. And there we go:. and had to pick itFor night was dosing ere they came to land.water. there came Into Don Juan's head a thought. and off they went thence As fast as oars could pull and water float. and so forth (Of which I might have a good deal to say. what then? How get out? how the devil got we in? And when we once were fairly out. But it was all a mystery. And worse off than we hitherto have been. Embark'd himself and them. The eunuch made a sign to those on board. or two. 'et cetera. and jasmine. send very far! And is this blood. and He led them onward. . 'and when done.but where? five bits of lead. But let us to the story as before.earth. or make a faith. Let 's knock that old black fellow on the head. 'Methinks.' said the other. Or three. Here we are. Here their conductor tapping at the wicket Of a small iron door. 't was open'd.' said he. leaving them without a word. Wondering what next. And march away. To-morrow 'd see us in some other den. then. And horrid was the contrast to the viewBut let me quit the theme. As they were plodding on their winding way Through orange bowers. 'it would be no great shame If we should strike a stroke to set us free.'t were easier done than said.'t was the same Which might have then occurr'd to you or me. which he Whisper'd to his companion:. Who row'd off. The purchaser of Juan and acquaintance Bore off his bargains to a gilded boat. or one.Those honourable scars which brought him fame. till the caique was brought Up in a little creek below a wall O'ertopp'd with cypresses.fire live. form'd but to be shed? Can every element our elements mar? And air. as such things claim Perhaps even more attention than is due From me: I gazed (as oft I have gazed the same) To try if I could wrench aught out of death Which should confirm.and we dead? We whose minds comprehend all things? No more. and when From Saint Bartholomew we have saved our skin. I 'm hungry.

.' It was indeed a wide extensive building Which open'd on their view. this turn has brought us through. saw no line Of lackeys usher to the feast prepared. And nearer as they came. The tocsin of the soul. a shilling. a genial savour Of certain stews. threats. beheld a huge fire shine. By Jove. 'We must be near some place of man's abode.For the old negro's confidence in creeping. And giving up all notions of resistance. With his two captives. albeit they heard No Christian knoll to table. Some to men's feelings. and roast-meats. as is the Turkish wont.A gaudy taste. flattery. too.' But no one dreams of ever being short.lighted too. and others lay the lash on. A single cry would bring them all abroad: 'T is therefore better looking before leapingAnd there. overpowering knell.Like Esau.But I digress: of all appeals. by so queer a road. And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared.' Some talk of an appeal unto some passion. and pilaus.the dinner-bell. and yet men dine. as we every day behold. or a pretty opera-scene. Shows that he thinks his friends have not been sleeping. And gazed around them to the left and right With the prophetic eye of appetite. But more or less continue still to tease on. Some speakers whine. And Juan and his friend. For reason thinks all reasoning out of season. you see. adding a new saving clause. which grow More tender. a noble palace!. They follow'd close behind their sable guide.. others to their reason. . Who little thought that his own crack'd existence Was on the point of being set aside: He motion'd them to stop at some small distance. And put himself upon his good behaviour: His friend. 'In Heaven's name let's get some supper now. With arguments according to their 'forte. Made Juan in his harsh intentions pause. Yet smelt roast-meat.although I grant the power of pathos. Turkey contains no bells. Of beauty. if you 're for a row. and o'er the front There seem'd to be besprent a deal of gilding And various hues. Said. and of gold. for my birthright a beef-steak. Than that all-softening. The last of these was never much the fashion.no Method 's more sure at moments to take hold Of the best feelings of mankind. And then I 'm with you. Things which in hungry mortals' eyes find favour. for they are little skill'd in The arts of which these lands were once the font: Each villa on the Bosphorus looks a screen New painted.

some raised their eyes A moment without slackening from their pace. where. Perhaps there 's nothing. While Nature. and. others slept. some. 't was open'd wide.And knocking at the gate. Some faint lamps gleaming from the lofty walls Gave light enough to hint their farther way. save in one. sandwich. and some Prepared for supper with a glass of rum. Seeing what 's meant for many with but one. I won't describe. And divers smoked superb pipes decorated With amber mouths of greater price or less. has her full growth in The spots which were her realms for evermore. But every fool describes in these bright days His wondrous journey to some foreign court. Others in monosyllable talk chatted. single lady. and up and down. As wondering what the devil a noise that is. But in a mighty hall or gallery. But not enough to show the imperial halls. or where popping Some female head most curiously presumes To thrust its black eyes through the door or lattice. forests.I 'll not say appals. dropping. But no one troubled him with conversation. Than an enormous room without a soul To break the lifeless splendour of the whole. snug study on a winter's night. And some seem'd much in love with their own dress. And spawns his quarto. Resigns herself with exemplary patience To guide-books. . In all the flashing of their full array. Splendid but silent. As the black eunuch enter'd with his brace Of purchased Infidels. both in More modern buildings and those built of yore. tours. crowds. were occupied at chess. and demands your praiseDeath to his publisher. illustrations. Some nodded to the negro from their station. and an appetite. Along this hall. And a magnificent large hall display'd The Asian pomp of Ottoman parade. squatted Upon their hams. one seems nothing: In deserts. A neat. description is my forte. sketches. tortured twenty thousand ways. rhymes. He leads them through the hall. A kind of death comes o'er us all alone. or by the shore. A marble fountain echoes through the glooms Of night which robe the chamber. or a glass Of claret. we know. without stopping. to him 't is sport. friend. Just as one views a horse to guess his price. And several strutted. But saddens more by night as well as day. On through a farther range of goodly rooms. There solitude. But those who sate ne'er stirr'd in anywise: One or two stared the captives in the face. Two or three seem so little. A book.

Are things which make an English evening pass. I pass my evenings in long galleries solely. however. and wealth amazing. But strong and lasting. some bricks has got. Where echo woke as if from a long slumber. And written lately two memoirs upon't). Reign'd. who Must be believed. like religion. We know where things and men must end at best: A moral (like all morals) melancholy. Babel was Nimrod's hunting-box. till one summer's day he took to grazing. but huge houses fit illAnd huge tombs worse. who don't. Believe the Jews. but to open on . and then A town of gardens.. At last they reach'd a quarter most retired. Here wealth had done its utmost to encumber With furniture an exquisite apartment. That injured Queen by chroniclers so coarse Has been accused (I doubt not by conspiracy) Of an improper friendship for her horse (Love. for Thisbe and for Pyramus. And the calumniated queen Semiramis. Where Nabuchadonosor. too. those unbelievers. And 'Et sepulchri immemor struis domos' Shows that we build when we should but entomb us. But to resume. Though full of all things which could be desired. The people's awe and admiration raising. though they believe not you. forgetting the great place of rest. king of men. And Daniel tamed the lions in their den. 'T was famous. Who give themselves to architecture wholly. Because they can't find out the very spot Of that same Babel. since Adam fell: Methinks the story of the tower of Babel Might teach them this much better than I 'm able.mankind. Alas! man makes that great which makes him little: I grant you in a church 't is very well: What speaks of Heaven should by no means be brittle. Esquire. sometimes runs to heresy): This monstrous tale had probably its source (For such exaggerations here and there I see) In writing 'Courser' by mistake for 'Courier:' I wish the case could come before a jury here. Though certes by no means so grand a sight As is a theatre lit up by gas. Yet let them think that Horace has exprest Shortly and sweetly the masonic folly Of those. walls. And that 's the reason I 'm so melancholy. Which puzzled Nature much to know what Art meant. or because they won't (Though Claudius Rich. One wonder'd what to do with such a number Of articles which nobody required. It seem'd.should there be (what may not Be in these days?) some infidels. till no tongue can tell Their names who rear'd it.

but no less Would leave his proposition to their choice. and with a stretch attaining A certain press or cupboard niched in yonderIn that remote recess which you may seeOr if you don't the fault is not in me. which to the knee might reach. Hinted the vast advantages which they Might probably attain both in the end. Trampled what they scarce trod for fear of staining. without hardly deigning A glance at that which wrapt the slaves in wonder. after swallowing down a slight refection. And trousers not so tight that they would burst. The suit he thought most suitable to each Was. He doubted not a few hours of reflection Would reconcile him to the business quite.' The other. I say.I wish to be perspicuous. all things which form a Turkish Dandy. scarcely could express 'Sufficiently' (he said) 'his approbation Of all the customs of this polish'd nation. . pull'd forth A quantity of clothes fit for the back Of any Mussulman. unlocking the recess. As if the milky way their feet was under With all its stars. sharply: 'Strike me dead. And of variety there was no lackAnd yet. He chose himself to point out what he thought Most proper for the Christians he had bought. And. Baba.A range or suite of further chambers. and the black. however. first A Candiote cloak. For which he own'd a present appetite. he really should rejoice To see them true believers. A shawl. which Might lead to heaven knows where. If they would condescend to circumcision. But such as fit an Asiatic breech. ''T would greatly tend to better their condition. but in this one The movables were prodigally rich: Sofas 't was half a sin to sit upon. thanking him for this excess Of goodness. their black friend. So costly were they.he saw but small objection To so respectable an ancient rite. While he was dressing. And then he added. in thus leaving them a voice In such a trifle. carpets every stitch Of workmanship so rare. dagger rich and handy. The black. though I have said there was no dearth. whose folds in Cashmire had been nurst.' 'Will it?' said Juan. they made you wish You could glide o'er them like a golden fish. whate'er his worth. In short. that he needs must say. 'For his own share. for the elder and the stouter. If they would but pursue the proper way Which fortune plainly seem'd to recommend. Slippers of saffron. 'For his own part.

which (or what you please). stroking The things down. 'Old gentleman. . I neither know nor care. but it may wax too bold. and I call Those who will leave you of no sex at all.' said Juan. before-'.as we say. sir!' said Juan. on he slipp'd A pair of trousers of flesh-colour'd silk. 'What the devil shall I do with all this gauze?' Thus he profanely term'd the finest lace Which e'er set off a marriage-morning face. 'shall it e'er be told That I unsex'd my dress?' But Baba. and time.or.But they as soon shall circumcise my head! 'Cut off a thousand heads. This spirit 's well.'. 'Be so good As dress yourself-' and pointed out a suit In which a Princess with great pleasure would Array her limbs. true. Which. and season: I have no authority to tell the reason. and.' Replied. 'I offer you a handsome suit of clothes: A woman's. in proper place. 't will transpire. Which girt a slight chemise as white as milk. was owing to His garment's novelty.' 'What you may be. And when the old negro told him to 'Get ready.'Hold!' Rejoin'd the negro. 'I 'll be-'. Provided always your great goodness still Remits the matter to our own free-will. 'to be curious. Gave it a slight kick with his Christian foot. but then there is a cause Why you should wear them.thus.'Now. Next with a virgin zone he was equipp'd. after a short pause. as the Scotch say.as I said. but Juan standing mute. said. pray. muttering also some slight oaths.' said Juan. 'but pray do as I desire: I have no more time nor many words to spare. though my soul loathes The effeminate garb?'. But tugging on his petticoat. 'do not interrupt: You put me out in what I had to say. as soon as I have supt. sometimes Monarchs are less imperative than rhymes)Whilk. Sir!. I shall perpend if your proposal may Be such as I can properly accept.' Said Baba. 'Incense me. 'sure I may enquire The cause of this odd travesty?'.' Baba eyed Juan. whilk (The rhyme obliges me to this. sighing. And then he swore. No doubt. 'pray be not provoking. Sigh'd Juan.' Said Baba. though no doubt a little backward: The negro Baba help'd a little too. And you will find us not top fond of joking.'Forbear.'What.' 'What. As not being in a masquerading mood. and his being awkward: And yet at last he managed to get through His toilet. he tripp'd. and said.' Replied the other.' 'Then if I do. I 'm not a lady.' 'At least.

sirs. Else they shall feel the weight of this my arm. Unless his highness promises to marry me. While Baba made him comb his head and oil it. 'though it grieves me sore.' quoth the maid. it must at once be done.' 'Nay. One 's turn'd half Mussulman. And this addition with such gems was bound As suited the ensemble of his toilet. He paused. Which is not quite so light as you may deem.' said Baba. sirs. 't is a palace. for when I say a thing. I yield thus far. 'You. 'the Sultan's self shan't carry me. That soon his head was most completely crown'd. who Though somewhat grieved. And. And now.' quoth Baba. while Don Juan.the Lady:' clapping his hands twice. And now being femininely all array'd. worthy Christian nun. That is. and one a maid. sir. With some small aid from scissors. When we next meet we 'll have a tale to tell: We needs must follow when Fate puts from shore.'. though Eve herself once fell. By this old black enchanter's unsought aid. turning to his comrade. but you. He look'd in almost all respects a maid. and see. And Baba smilingly exclaim'd. and tweezers. nodding to the one. Will follow me: no trifling. 'You see. wrestling both his arms into a gown. 'You fool! I tell you no one means you harm. paint. .' 'Farewell!' said Juan: 'should we meet no more.'Farewell!' they mutually exclaim'd: 'this soil Seems fertile in adventures strange and new. Keep your good name. could scarce forbear a smile Upon the metamorphosis in view. sir. each by separate doors. And thus they parted.'Farewell!' Replied the other. I wish you a good appetite. 'Will please to accompany those gentlemen To supper. 'for them. After the manner then in fashion there. but soon will break the charm If any take me for that which I seem: So that I trust for everybody's sake.' 'Blockhead! come on. Four blacks were at his elbow in a trice. What fear you? think you this a lion's den? Why.When some untoward part of raiment stuck hard. then. and took a survey up and down.' 'So much the better. That this disguise may lead to no mistake. where the truly wise Anticipate the Prophet's paradise. One difficulty still remain'd. but Baba found So many false long tresses all to spare.his hair Was hardly long enough.' Juan said. Baba led Juan onward room by room Through glittering galleries and o'er marble floors. you must come along with me. A perfect transformation here display'd.

and (though there 's not much in 't) To swing a little less from side to side. and carved in curious guise. which they could really do. not spoke at all. did strong things at timesTo ope this door.for they were strong. You never thought about those little creatures. For all was vast. there the vanquish'd lies. and high. Before they enter'd. for these mutes have eyes . And looking like two incubi. they glared As Baba with his fingers made them fall To heaving back the portal folds: it scared Juan a moment. with tough strings of the bow. Whose colour was not black. Baba paused to hint To Juan some slight lessons as his guide: 'If you could just contrive.And also could you look a little modest. still. This massy portal stood at the wide close Of a huge hall. And now and then. The hinges being as smooth as Rogers' rhymes. It was as if their little looks could poison Or fascinate whome'er they fix'd their eyes on. and bright. 'to stint That somewhat manly majesty of stride. the least you could suppose. For mutes are generally used for that. They spoke by signs.' he said. They were mis-shapen pigmies.that is. and on its either side Two little dwarfs. Until you nearly trod on them. nor grey. Their duty was. and then You started back in horror to survey The wondrous hideousness of those small men. and though They look'd so little. ''T would be convenient. although perhaps the pencil may. along the distance lowers. like ugly imps.Till a gigantic portal through the gloom. Which has at times an aspect of the oddest. As is the custom of those Eastern climes. There captives led in triumph droop the eye. as if allied In mockery to the enormous gate which rose O'er them in almost pyramidic pride: The gate so splendid was in all its features. fragrant. Were sate. deaf and dumbMonsters. as this pair so small With shrinking serpent optics on him stared. Here stalks the victor. and divine. But an extraneous mixture. And in perspective many a squadron flies: It seems the work of times before the line Of Rome transplanted fell with Constantine. nor white. who cost a no less monstrous sum. Of gilded bronze. which no pen Can trace. 'T would be as well. The giant door was broad. And wafted far arose a rich perfume: It seem'd as though they came upon a shrine. To give some rebel Pacha a cravat. Warriors thereon were battling furiously. Haughty and huge.

such things Occur in Orient palaces. and pictures. that the eye along it cast Could hardly carry anything away. he led the way Into a room still nobler than the last. who though not much used to pray.Like needles. luckily for both. my phrases fail. and gold. Magnificently mingled in a litter. Stitch'd up in sacks. tables. there is much to be forgiven. and there reclined Quite in a confidential queenly way. To find our way to Marmora without boats. On which I cannot pause to make my strictures. who first kiss'd the hem Of her deep purple robe. until the ceremony ended. A dazzling mass of gems. wondering in his mind. In this imperial hall. You know how near us the deep Bosphorus floats. Where I can't say or gold or diamond flings Great lustre. ere morning rise.. A rich confusion form'd a disarray In such sort. it would strike you blind Could I do justice to the full detail. true. chairs. and glitter. and kneeling sign'd To Juan. Groups of bad statues. and sapping sorrow wrings Charms from the charmer.tears And love destroy. and speaking low. Knelt down by instinct. She sign'd to Baba. they might make six-and-twenty springs. yet some never grow .taste not much. Her beauty of that overpowering kind. And raising up an arm as moonlight fair. A lady. And turns aside his scythe to vulgar things.a mode of navigation A good deal practised here upon occasion. Whose force description only would abate: I 'd rather leave it much to your own mind.her years Were ripe. which may pierce those petticoats. which put out each surrounding gem. Thus much however I may add. Her presence was as lofty as her state. The lady rising up with such an air As Venus rose with from the wave. But there are forms which Time to touch forbears. Object on object flash'd so bright and fast. So. Such as was Mary's Queen of Scots. at distance lay Under a canopy. and even In the more chasten'd domes of Western kings (Of which I have also seen some six or seven). on them Bent like an antelope a Paphian pair Of eyes.' With this encouragement. And if they should discover your disguise. And you and I may chance. What all this meant: while Baba bow'd and bended His head. Pointed to Juan who remain'd below. Baba stopp'd. Than lessen it by what I could relate Of forms and features. Wealth had done wonders.

Would Pope have sung. And Juan now his willingness exprest To use all fit and proper courtesies. And were all clad alike.' Baba. They bow'd obeisance and withdrew. needs few flowers of speech) To make men happy. though 't were to Mahomet's bride: There 's nothing in the world like etiquette In kingly chambers or imperial halls.Ninon de l'Enclos. or to keep them so' (So take it in the very words of Creech)Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago. At some small distance. who Composed a choir of girls. and then A second time desired him to kneel down. A half-way house of diplomatic rest. too. like Juan. and then a threat He mutter'd (but the last was given aside) About a bow-string. Where they might meet in much more peaceful guise.' 'Not to admire is all the art I know (Plain truth. 'It grieved him. I ne'er could see the very Great happiness of the 'Nil Admirari. retiring.Ugly. for both or none things win. which maxim when He heard repeated. And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach From his translation. but had none admired. Here was an honourable compromise. And kiss the lady's foot. Who wore their uniform. which last stood admiring.quite in vain. but he could not stoop To any shoe. and rather than descend To stain his pedigree a thousand swords A thousand times of him had made an end. and nathless would not bend: The blood of all his line 's Castilian lords Boil'd in his veins. And I must say. not yet Would Juan bend.' As far as outward show may correspond. all he saw within This strange saloon. She spake some words to her attendants. Motion'd to Juan to approach. for instance. much fitted for inspiring Marvel and praise. They form'd a very nymph-like looking crew. But not by the same door through which came in Baba and Juan. . by Baba chosen. unless it shod the Pope. Juan with a frown Drew himself up to his full height again. with a world of words About his ears. At length perceiving the 'foot' could not stand. when all the damsels were withdrawn. indignant at this ill-timed pride. Made fierce remonstrances. And said. or Horace been inspired? Baba. Baba proposed that he should kiss the hand. He stood like Atlas. As also at the race and county balls. ten or a dozen. I won't be bail for anything beyond. Which might have call'd Diana's chorus 'cousin. dear Murray.

For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands. to fulfill All phantasies which yielded joy or mirth. The lady eyed him o'er and o'er. there was a sudden change: I know not what might be the lady's thought. Something imperial. threw A chain o'er all she did. As if she rather order'd than was granting. somehow. though with but a bad grace. And into her dear cheek the blood was brought. Her very smile was haughty. if she you love shall bring hers In contact. As though they were quite conscious of her stationThey trod as upon necks. Her form had all the softness of her sex. and to complete Her state (it is the custom of her nation). that is. Of half voluptuousness and half command. not mine!). and 't is in vain We would against them make the flesh obeyThe spirit in the end will have its way. Blood-red as sunset summer clouds which range The verge of Heaven. and paved (God knows how) the road to evil. and in her large eyes wrought. And he advanced. or imperious. Her very nod was not an inclination. with such a face of satisfaction As good men wear who have done a virtuous action. When he was gone.And rapture's self will seem almost a pain With aught which looks like despotism in view: Our souls at least are free. And taking hints in good part all the while. And for one kiss would fain imprint a brace. When he put on the cherub to perplex Eve. The sun himself was scarce more free from specks Than she from aught at which the eye could cavil. and bade Baba retire. and sometimes even a fair stranger's An almost twelvemonth's constancy endangers. . as the sign She was a sultan's bride (thank Heaven.Adding. But o'er her bright brow flash'd a tumult strange. a chain Was thrown as 't were about the neck of you. there was something somewhere wanting. On such as these the lip too fondly lingers. Yet. There was a self-will even in her small feet. though so sweet. Her features all the sweetness of the devil. Though on more thorough-bred or fairer fingers No lips e'er left their transitory trace. that this was commonest and best. which he obey'd in style. As if well used to the retreating trade. And looking on him with a sort of smile. A mixture of sensations might be scann'd. As you will see. A poniard deck'd her girdle. He whisper'd Juan not to be afraid. 'To hear and to obey' had been from birth The law of all around her. Took leave.

Nor to the trouble which her fancies caused. in her blue eyes blending Passion and power. to us a torture. if she supposed It might be seen. others by tradition. as her will. had caught Her eye in passing on his way to sale. a glance on him she cast. Like molten lead. She was a good deal shock'd. a man's half sears. And kings and consorts oft are mystified. Some by experience.' Whate'er she saw and coveted was brought. Whate'er she did not see. which in his face was glowing. for (to be shorter) To them 't is a relief. And deem'd herself extremely condescending When.Had been her slaves' chief pleasure. I 've a notion We should have found out the 'perpetual motion. being made her property at last. Felt the warm blood. His youth and features favour'd the disguise. if her caprices e'er stood still. 'Christian. And when 't was found straightway the bargain closed. but burst into tears. But Juan. She order'd him directly to be bought. Yet even her tyranny had such a grace. And Baba. Had she but been a Christian. where we have been tending:She now conceived all difficulties past. her beauty scarce of earth: Judge. as if you thrust a pike in His heart to force it out. but he had. There was no end unto the things she bought. The women pardon'd all except her face. As we may ascertain with due precision. should you ask how she. who had ne'er been known to fail In any kind of mischief to be wrought. Rush back upon his heart. But there is something when man's eye appears Wet. And merely saying. then. who had still his mind o'erflowing With Haidee's isle and soft Ionian face. For women shed and use them at their liking. And. a sultan's bride. still more disagreeable and striking. in proper time and place. canst thou love?' Conceived that phrase was quite enough to move And so it was. This I must leave sultanas to decide: Emperors are only husbands in wives' eyes. Could risk or compass such strange phantasies. Juan. These words went through his soul like Arab-spears. the latest of her whims. At all such auctions knew how to prevail: She had no prudence. But to the main point. but knew not how: . which fill'd apace. and this Explains the garb which Juan took amiss. And left his cheeks as pale as snowdrops blowing. not shock'd at tears. Without more preface. A woman's tear-drop melts. So that he spoke not. with diligence was sought. And she would have consoled. Her blood was high.

' Call'd back the stoic to his eyes. And although sensitive to beauty. when a strong although a strange sensation Moves. never having met In all her life with aught save prayers and praise. Which made him seem exceedingly ill-bred. for the first time in her days. Was much embarrass'd. she laid Her hand on his. But here a small delay forms a great crime: So recollect that the extremest grace Is just two minutes for your declarationA moment more would hurt your reputation. who look'd on him as her debtor For having had him to her palace led. And as she also risk'd her life to get Him whom she meant to tutor in love's ways Into a comfortable tete-a-tete. She rose. and bending on him eyes Which needed not an empire to persuade. At length. although There might arise some pouting petty care To cross her brow. But he had got Haidee into his head: However strange.Having no equals. And thus Gulbeyaz. Look'd into his for love. threw . in an imperial way. Began to blush up to the eyes. That being the last thing a proud woman tries. and then Grow deadly pale. Felt an odd glistening moisture in her eye. Juan's was good. and might have been still better. And. They naturally pour the 'wine and oil. I also would suggest the fitting time To gentlemen in any such like case. where none replies: Her brow grew black. But nature teaches more than power can spoil. And they had wasted now almost a quarter. But tears must stop like all things else. he could not yet forget her. sorrowing kind. nothing which had e'er Infected her with sympathy till now. she wonder'd how so near Her eyes another's eye could shed a tear. And never having dreamt what 't was to bear Aught of a serious. Gulbeyaz. but she would not upbraid. and pausing one chaste moment. To lose the hour would make her quite a martyr. Gulbeyaz. he Felt most indignant still at not being free.female hearts are such a genial soil For kinder feelings. who for an instant had been moved To such a sorrow by the intrusive tone Of one who dared to ask if 'he had loved. and then blush back again. though she knew not why. whatsoe'er their nation. and soon Juan.' Samaritans in every situation. That is to say in a meridian climeWith us there is more law given to the chase. which shone Bright with the very weakness he reproved.

.our hearts are still our own. A tigress robb'd of young. he cried. While some more desperate dowager has been waging Love with you.that I love not thee! In this vile garb. The spouse of Potiphar. and pride: With gentle force her white arms he unwound. Heads bow. And hands obey. wrath. Besides. as may be presumed. Suppose. or (if you can not) imagine. when Aware of their due royal rights o'er men. who have kept your chastity when young. the Lady Booby. and been in the dog-days stung By your refusal. pity that so few by Poets and private tutors are exposed. And also. 'Thou ask'st if I can love? be this the proof How much I have loved.but you already have supposed. to such perfection brings Legitimacy its born votaries. Earth being only made for queens and kings. eyes watch around a throne. and woof. she laid Some stress on charms. But though my turn will not be served with less. By their possessors thrown into the shade: She thought hers gave a double 'right divine. she was so fair As even in a much humbler lot had made A kingdom or confusion anywhere. and great it seems to be. Phaedra. Are similes at hand for the distress Of ladies who can not have their own way.' This was a truth to us extremely trite. a lioness. And looking coldly in her face.ye youth of Europe. web. Or any interesting beast of prey. knees bend. This was an awkward test. then suppose the face Of a young downright beauty in this case. nor Serve a Sultana's sensual phantasy. If hearts lay on the left side or the right She hardly knew. who ne'er had heard such things: She deem'd her least command must yield delight.you by! But when you have supposed the few we know. Not so to her. if e'er. Were fitter for me: Love is for the free! I am not dazzled by this splendid roof.Herself upon his breast. which seldom are. . 'The prison'd eagle will not pair. To educate. and there she grew. Whate'er thy power. as has been said. Then rising haughtily he glanced around. the distaff. as Juan found. recollect her raging! Or recollect all that was said or sung On such a subject. Ye. And seated her all drooping by his side. But he was steel'd by sorrow. and all which story has disclosed Of good examples.' And half of that opinion 's also mine. Remember. You can't suppose Gulbeyaz' angry brow.

But sometimes it may mend. This strong extreme effect (to tire no longer Your patience) shows the cause must still be stronger. bad or good.' like Lear's. Though horrible to see yet grand to tell. Though not all born of the same sires and mothers: It teaches. As water through an unexpected leak. It also gently hints to them that others.acquaintance. I should but bring disgrace upon the dyer. That urns and pipkins are but fragile brothers. Although of clay. God knows!) would much fall short of this. and 't was wellA moment's more had slain her. saw How mothers love their children's squalls and chucklings. So supernatural was her passion's rise. are yet not quite of mud. For ne'er till now she knew a check'd desire: Even ye who know what a check'd woman is (Enough.and humiliation Is sometimes good for people in her station It teaches them that they are flesh and blood.in fact she could not speak. and often reaches. A vulgar tempest 't were to a typhoon To match a common fury with her rage. few or many. For she felt humbled. kill. but the while It lasted 't was like a short glimpse of hell: Nought 's more sublime than energetic bile. . There 's nothing whets the beak. To cutting short their hopes of having any? The love of offspring 's nature's general law. or arms the claw Like an invasion of their babes and sucklings. to ask him where he had been bred. And then her thirst of blood was quench'd in tears. Like moderate Hotspur on the immortal page. Her anger pitch'd into a lower tune.Heaven knows only what it teaches. Her second. And yet she did not want to reach the moon. If I said fire flash'd from Gulbeyaz' eyes. Her rage was but a minute's. Pass'd without words.These don't express one half what I should say: For what is stealing young ones. Or said her cheeks assumed the deepest dyes. Her first thought was to cut off Juan's head. And then her sex's shame broke in at last. Her third. A sentiment till then in her but weak. And the deep passions flashing through her form Made her a beautiful embodied storm. and like the storm it pass'd. to cut only his. Perhaps the fault of her soft sex and ageHer wish was but to 'kill. From tigresses and cubs to ducks and ducklings. Like ocean warring 'gainst a rocky isle. But now it flow'd in natural and fast. And all who have seen a human nursery. And works of the same pottery.for her eyes flash'd always fire. kill. 'T were nothing. A storm it raged.

Her sixth. but before he ventured Further. my old comet! give the stars due warningAnd.Her fourth. Although you borrow'd all that e'er the muses Have sung. or even a Dandy's dandiest chatter. and cry of course. Which mostly ends in some small breach of both. Her fifth.his heart. which made it awkward. or quarter'd as a dish For dogs. 'The Sultan 's coming!' First came her damsels.' exclaim'd Gulbeyaz. to sentence The lash to Baba:. but then she had The dagger close at hand. And first he wonder'd why he had refused.' 'Is it.but her grand resource Was to sit down again. Whose smile makes all the planets dance with mirth. Or as a dame repents her of her oath. And thus heroically stood resign'd. if matters could be made up now. to rally him into repentance. Hence. Just as a languid smile began to flatter His peace was making. As through his palms Bob Acres' valour oozed.except to his own wish: But all his great preparatives for dying Dissolved like snow before a woman crying. Juan was moved. For Eastern stays are little made to pad. 'as you say? I wish to heaven he would not shine till morning! But bid my women form the milky way. But words are not enough in such a matter. So he began to stammer some excuses. her seventh. And then. Or thrown to lions. The cutting off his head was not the art Most likely to attain her aim. She thought to stab herself. And next his savage virtue he accused. a decorous file. Your slave brings tidings. So that a poniard pierces if 't is stuck hard: She thought of killing Juan. And as you 'd have me pardon your past scorning-' Here they were interrupted by a humming Sound. to stab herself. . Rather than sin. Just as a friar may accuse his vow. Or all the figures Castlereagh abuses. To hint that he is coming up this way. or made baits for fish. old Baba rather briskly enter'd. So Juan's virtue ebb'd.he hopes not too soonWhich your sublime attention may be worth: The Sun himself has sent me like a ray. and then by a cry. he had made up his mind To be impaled. I know not how.but. Christian! mingle with them as you may. 'Bride of the Sun! and Sister of the Moon!' ('T was thus he spake) 'and Empress of the Earth! Whose frown would put the spheres all out of tune. poor lad! Though he deserved it well for being so backward. to call her maids and go to bed. or to be slain with pangs refined.

'T is true. the glory of their line. His lately bowstrung brother caused his rise. From which the secret nobody could rip: The Public knew no more than does this rhyme. He had fifty daughters and four dozen sons. Snatch'd from a prison to preside at court. She was of course the favorite of the four. The train might reach a quarter of a mile: His majesty was always so polite As to announce his visits a long while Before he came. or Knolles. and bearded to the eyes. His empire also was without a bound: 'T is true. to vent Their spleen in making strife. If now and then there happen'd a slight slip. Was also certain that the earth was square. He went to mosque in state. and encroaching giaours. which ne'er meant Those scoundrels. unseen. especially at night. and found No sign that it was circular anywhere. Four wives and twice five hundred maids. a little troubled here and there. Because he had journey'd fifty miles. who were sent To lodge there when a war broke out.And then his Highness' eunuchs. where like nuns They lived till some Bashaw was sent abroad. When she. Little was heard of criminal or crime. where few shine Save Solyman. according To the true law of nations. who have never had a sword in Their dirty diplomatic hands. But then they never came to 'the Seven Towers. Of whom all such as came of age were stow'd. His Highness was a man of solemn port. and said his prayers With more than 'Oriental scrupulosity. and the fish no worse. And show'd but little royal curiosity: I know not if he had domestic caresNo process proved connubial animosity. He was as good a sovereign of the sort As any mention'd in the histories Of Cantemir. The story scarcely pass'd a single lipThe sack and sea had settled all in time. For being the last wife of the Emperour. Shawl'd to the nose. Were ruled as calmly as a Christian queen. By rebel pachas. He saw with his own eyes the moon was round. and safely wording Their lies. whose turn it was. the reason is.though it seems odd. that the Bashaw . black and white.' He left to his vizier all state affairs. was wed at once. The former in a palace. No scandals made the daily press a curseMorals were better. yclep'd despatches.' Except in shape of envoys. without risk or The singeing of a single inky whisker. Sometimes at six years old.

as a pipe of claret is when prick'd: But then their own Polygamy 's to blame. man and wife? Thus far our chronicle. thought themselves undone: Oh! Mahomet! that his majesty should take Such notice of a giaour. and now we pause. Let this fifth canto meet with due applause. But just remark'd with air sedate and wise. 't is pity That a mere Christian should be half so pretty. While still a fluttering sigh Gulbeyaz heaved. Meantime the education they went through Was princely. Thus in the East they are extremely strict. These must seem doubly mindful of their vows. Though not for want of matter. Excepting only when the former 's pick'd It ne'er can be replaced in proper frame. but which of the two Could yet be known unto the fates alone. Who clear'd her sparkling eyes and smooth'd her brows. And makes our snow less pure than our morality. Her comrades. but 't is time According to the ancient epic laws. To slacken sail.at least. One or the other. . sometimesThe women up. The sun. which drew all eyes upon The new-bought virgin. Why don't they knead two virtuous souls for life Into that moral centaur. while scarce to one Of them his lips imperial ever spake! There was a general whisper. As suits a matron who has play'd a prank. His majesty saluted his fourth spouse With all the ceremonies of his rank. perceived Juan amongst the damsels in disguise. till they grew Of years to fill a bowstring or the throne. At which he seem'd no whit surprised nor grieved. The Turks do well to shut. And Wedlock and a Padlock mean the same. 'I see you 've bought another girl. made her blush and shake. which yearly melts the polar ice. in sad reality. as the proofs have always shown: So that the heir apparent still was found No less deserving to be hang'd than crown'd. His Highness cast around his great black eyes. and wriggle. Has quite the contrary effect on vice. also. toss.Must make a present to his sire in law. And looking.' This compliment. because. To save the credit of their breaking bank: To no men are such cordial greetings given As those whose wives have made them fit for heaven. Spoilt. and anchor with our rhyme. But etiquette forbade them all to giggle. Their chastity in these unhappy climes Is not a thing of that astringent quality Which in the North prevents precocious crimes. as he always look'd. His sons were kept in prison.

I Gave what I had. perhaps You 'll pardon to my muse a few short naps.but Chronology best knows the years. though I had no great plenty Of worlds to lose. CANTO_THE_SIXTH CANTO THE SIXTH. I Gave what was worth a world. Thrones. the universe. as Homer sometimes sleeps. worlds. the world.God knows where: Those navigators must be able seamen Whose charts lay down its current to a hair.taken at the flood. headstrong. et cetera. that when passion O'erthrows the same.' may Perhaps be weigh'd hereafter. and daring. But whether such things do or do not weigh. God is love. worlds are but a sport. if not now. and rather whisk The stars from out the sky. or was before the brow Of earth was wrinkled by the sins and tears Of. 'T is not his conquests keep his name in fashion. All who have loved. to be Beloved in her own way. Or at the least forgive. leads. for worlds could never Restore me those pure feelings. . He died at fifty for a queen of forty. we readily forget. Young. At least we think so.The sixth shall have a touch of the sublime. 'T was the boy's 'mite. Meanwhile. kingdoms. are so oft upset By commonest ambition. they say. lost for Cleopatra's eyes. If Antony be well remember'd yet. Not all the reveries of Jacob Behmen With its strange whirls and eddies can compare: Men with their heads reflect on this and thatBut women with their hearts on heaven knows what! And yet a headlong. I wish their years had been fifteen and twenty.who would risk A throne.you know the rest. gone forever. though but few have guess'd The moment. than not be free As are the billows when the breeze is briskThough such a she 's a devil (if that there be one). till too late to come again. And most of us have found it now and then. taken at the flood. beautiful. yet still. But Actium.'.I Remember when. And Love 's a god. For then wealth. or love. Yet she would make full many a Manichean.a heart: as the world went..' and. Outbalances all Caesar's victories. the loving rash one. will still allow Life has nought like it. But no doubt every thing is for the bestOf which the surest sign is in the end: When things are at the worst they sometimes mend. downright she. to pay my court. 'THERE is a tide in the affairs of men Which. There is a tide in the affairs of women Which. like the 'widow's.

But I detest all fiction even in song. a forbidden woman: Sultans too much abhor this sort of sin. if this holds good in a Christian land.' But by 'the bookish theoric' it appears.So styled according to the usual forms Of every monarch. the sublimest of mankind. Who lent his lady to his friend Hortensius. And so must tell the truth. And take what kings call 'an imposing attitude. . her passions strong. but as a bore: Most wise men. Her reason being weak. I deplore it. For. Who on the very loftiest kings have dined.' And for their rights connubial make a stand. Are apt to carry things with a high hand. I know Gulbeyaz was extremely wrong.the heart. For gentlemen must sometimes risk their skin For that sad tempter. were the Sultan just to all his dears. though with lesser latitude. And don't agree at all with the wise Roman. and (as I said) The favourite. She could but claim the fifteen-hundredth part Of what should be monopoly. When they suspect that any one goes shares In that to which the law makes them sole heirs. stoic Cato. Gulbeyaz was the fourth. Not only as a sin. As the tribunals show through many a session. Now. Which doubles what they think of the transgression: With suits and prosecutions they besiege us. like Cassio. I am not. When their liege husbands treat them with ingratitude: And as four wives must have quadruple claims. The heathen also. It is observed that ladies are litigious Upon all legal objects of possession. Heroic. If 't is summ'd up with feminine precision.We left our hero and third heroine in A kind of state more awkward than uncommon. Will scarcely find philosophy for more. She thought that her lord's heart (even could she claim it) Was scarce enough. The fair Sultana err'd from inanition. till they are consign'd To those sad hungry jacobins the worms.His Highness gazed upon Gulbeyaz' charms. the sententious. I condemn it. And not the least so when they are religious. and a fifteen-hundredth concubine.' His Highness. with one moderate woman wed. The Tigris hath its jealousies like Thames. I own it. 'an arithmetician. adding to the account his Highness' years. howe'er you blame it. And all (except Mahometans) forbear To make the nuptial couch a 'Bed of Ware. for he had fifty-nine Years. That. but what 's favour amongst four? Polygamy may well be held in dread.

And see a sentimental passion glow. for howe'er Kisses. but love no less.for over-warm Or over-cold annihilates the charm. Are the best tokens (to a modest mind) Of love. the English rhyme.propagation. For over-warmth. but truth may. Who fain would have a mutual flame confess'd. 't is no great lease of its own fire. They are put on as easily as a hat. except starvation. seem somewhat silly. embraces. after all. all lie. 'Medio tu tutissimus ibis. that 's to say.but let it stand. A sincere woman's breast. than their caresses of the heart. I know not. Now here we should distinguish. too.' The 'tu' 's too much. Whate'er their dreams be. But. we cannot pardon their bad taste. If true. and they may sleep. and success Is much in most things. save in very early youth.neither here nor there. Would like (I think) to trust all to desire. on t' other hand. And not the pink of old hexameters. a calm kind Of gentle feminine delight. Even were St.it succeeded. and all that.In short.. Which is but a precarious bond. which cannot well be worse. May look like what is.Expecting all the welcome of a lover (A 'Highland welcome' all the wide world over). if you translate it. but no more part Of heads. which the fair sex wear. We leave this royal couple to repose: A bed is not a throne. in sooth. there 's neither tune nor time In the last line. That is. Which form an ornament. Self-love in man. For no one. If fair Gulbeyaz overdid her part. They lie. when seated on his loveliest throne..the verse Requires it. And no one virtue yet. Trimm'd either heads or hearts to decorate. And apt to be transferr'd to the first buyer At a sad discount: while your over chilly Women. Francis' paramour their guest. the maxim for the amorous tribe is Horatian. and shown More in the eyelids than the eyes. if false. not less in the heart Than other articles of female dress. Or rather bonnet. resign'd Rather to hide what pleases most unknown. is worse than truth. we lie. a soft tremor. sweet words. And was thrust in to close the octave's chime: I own no prosody can ever rate it As a rule. A slight blush.. if of joys or woes: Yet disappointed joys are woes as deep . Could stop that worst of vices. In his monastic concubine of snow. beats all female art. For so it seems to lovers swift or slow.

Though what is soul or mind.As any man's day mixture undergoes. and terse. Also beneath the canopy of beds Four-posted and silk curtain'd. When wicked wives.no! not womankind! With one good hearty curse I vent my gall. Gulbeyaz and her lord were sleeping. I love the sex. As doth a rainbow the just clearing air. beasts.the deuce take them both! So now all things are d__n'd one feels at ease. Which leaves you minus of the cash you counted As certain. and yet I 've rarely seen the man they did not fret. confound them all! Bills. Is more than I know. Lie down in dudgeon to sigh for the light Of the gray morning. protested. but had been Perhaps as wretched if a peasant's quean. Gulbeyaz was an empress. a sullen son. or discounted At a per-centage. where the ladies lay Their delicate limbs. dog ill.Oh. and men. in sheets white as what bards call 'driven Snow. I 'm a philosopher. a bill To pay. and quake Lest their too lawful bed-fellow should wake! These are beneath the canopy of heaven.' Well! 't is all hap-hazard when one weds. or At least one of them!. those long galleries In the seraglio. Had bow'd themselves before th' imperial eyes. unpaid. 'T is so sententious. Which doth your true believer so much please: I doubt if any now could make it worse O'er his worst enemy when at his knees. a thousand bosoms there Beating for love. and sometimes would reverse The tyrant's wish. who love some bachelor. A scolding wife. And at the usual signal ta'en their way Back to their chambers. and look vainly for Its twinkle through the lattice dusky quiteTo toss. And then my stoicism leaves nought behind Which it can either pain or evil call. positive. as the caged bird's for air. With all the damsels in their long array. 'that mankind only had . and. As after reading Athanasius' curse. the heavy night. A favourite horse fallen lame just as he 's mounted. which are given For rich men and their brides to lay their heads Upon. a child cross.these are paltry things. to tumble. And decorates the book of Common Prayer. doze. revive. Our least of sorrows are such as we weep. 'T is the vile daily drop on drop which wears The soul out (like the stone) with petty cares. Don Juan in his feminine disguise. their birth or growth. And I can give my whole soul up to mind.. A bad old woman making a worse will.

By eunuchs flank'd. As I said. But this is her seraglio title. And though he certainly ran many risks. and correct them when they blunder'd. alas! but one vent. From ogling all their charms from breasts to backs. but good as any other. while at their head there stalk'd A dame who kept up discipline among The female ranks. by the way (Although the consequences of such frisks Are worse than the worst damages men pay In moral England. Yet he could not at times keep.but we will Continue. Or whether they were 'maids' who call'd her mother. Like water-lilies floating down a rillOr rather lake. and bolts. A virgin-like and edifying throng. where the thing 's a tax). It being (not now. Or travelling in Patagonian lands. Oh. which he with one fell stroke might pierce:' My wish is quite as wide.One neck. He went forth with the lovely Odalisques. And guards. And much more tender on the whole than fierce. just to cast a shade Along the rest. doubtless. And what is that? Devotion. So Cantemir can tell you. and now and then A slight example. with her aid. Still he forgot not his disguise:. and walls. who. no doubt! but made More easy by the absence of all menExcept his majesty. To kiss them all at once from North to South.' I know not. got I know not how.But my Muse withstands The giant thought of being a Titan's bride. but only while a lad) That womankind had but one rosy mouth.along The galleries from room to room they walk'd. or De Tott: Her office was to keep aloof or smother All bad propensities in fifteen hundred Young women. So let us back to Lilliput. but not so bad. enviable Briareus! with thy hands And heads. for rills do not run slowlyPaced on most maiden-like and melancholy. this goodly row Of ladies of all countries at the will Of one good man. A goodly sinecure. At the given signal join'd to their array.' Whether she was a 'mother. with stately march and slow. contrived to keep this den Of beauties cool as an Italian convent. and guide Our hero through the labyrinth of love In which we left him several lines above. Where all the passions have. if thou hadst all things multiplied In such proportion!.how Could you ask such a question?. so that none stirr'd or talk'd Without her sanction on their she-parades: Her title was 'the Mother of the Maids. .

or what You please.' Who with the brightest Georgians might compare: They wonder'd how Gulbeyaz. Whether there are such things as sympathies Without our knowledge or our approbation. which made them all concur In wishing her their sister. Katinka. there were three. or devilism. Others contended they were but in spring. When they survey. Extremely pure. Like magnetism. her everything: Some thought her dress did not so much become her. Like birds. fair as fair can be Were they. Waves at spring-tide. Though differing in stature and degree. that she Was what her dress bespoke. or fewer. . as 't were A sentimental friendship through and through. But no one doubted on the whole. and play. All felt a soft kind of concatenation. Their talk. Her shape. and 'beautiful exceedingly. While others wish'd that she had been so quite. Lolah. of course. could be So silly as to buy slaves who might share (If that his Highness wearied of his bride) Her throne and power. After the first investigating view. Although they could not see through his disguise.But when they reach'd their own apartments. or like Irish at a fair. there. but upon this occasion.we will not quarrel about that: But certain 't is they all felt for their new Companion something newer still. with Christian eyes or Heathen. Some thought her rather masculine in height. and every thing beside. Than is the custom of the gentle sex. her hair. Although her beauty was enough to vex. or boys. specks In the fair form of their companion new.' And yet they had their little jealousies. or bedlamites broke loose. Of those who had most genius for this sort Of sentimental friendship. too. they Began to sing. according to the best report. or women anywhere When freed from bonds (which are of no great use After all). save a few Who wish'd they had a brother just like her. her air. and Dudu. And fresh. smile. dance. ran most on the new comer. They would prefer to Padisha or Pacha. if they were at home in sweet Circassia. Some said her years were getting nigh their summer. and as it were a truce Establish'd between them and bondage. Whom. But what was strangest in this virgin crew. Like all the rest. They all found out as few. Or wonder'd at her ears without a ring. chatter. a damsel fair. in short (To save description). In a new face 'the ugliest creature breathing. Their guards being gone.

yet.' Dudu said nothing. Her eyes were not too sparkling. A kind of sleepy Venus seem'd Dudu. their new guest: 'Your coming has been unexpected here. playing with her veil or hair. And every couch is occupied. like Pygmalion's statue waking.'But where is Spain?'. A pretty stranger without friend or guide. 't is true. She was not violently lively. With kind remarks upon their mien and faces. my dear. she sigh'd. you know You don't sleep soundly. They all alike admired their new connection. Yet very fit to 'murder sleep' in those Who gazed upon her cheek's transcendent hue. I 'll take Juanna. we 're a slenderer pair . But rather skim the earth. I 'm puzzled what to do with you. too. Her Attic forehead.And clime and time. it is time to go to rest. and I cannot bear That anybody should disturb you so. but by to-morrow early We will have all things settled for you fairly. They put beholders in a tender taking. Thinner she might have been. white and red. and yet scarce lose.Well. with an accent rather rough. and languishing. And timidly expanding into life. at the general stare Which welcomes hapless strangers in all places. Being somewhat large. And looking at her steadfastly. The mortal and the marble still at strife.for shame!' Said Lolah. Yet of a beauty that would drive you crazy. With great blue eyes. She look'd (this simile 's quite new) just cut From marble. With. you had best Partake of mine. To poor Katinka: 'Spain 's an island near Morocco. And feet so small they scarce seem'd made to tread. after all. Katinka ask'd her also whence she came'From Spain. while Dudu's form Look'd more adapted to be put to bed. but sat down beside Juanna. Katinka was a Georgian. As if she pitied her for being there. and her Phidian nose: Few angles were there in her form.'Mamma.'.'. 't would puzzle to say where It would not spoil some separate charm to pare. Yet. Lolah was dusk as India and as warm. Nor show your Georgian ignorance. betwixt Egypt and Tangier.'Don't ask such stuff. Lolah demanded the new damsel's name'Juanna. and lazy. a lovely hand and arm. and country and complexion. And all abash'd. But here the Mother of the Maids drew near. but Stole on your spirit like a May-day breaking. 'Ladies.' She added to Juanna. a pretty name enough. half-shut.' Here Lolah interposed.

'For fear of ghosts. Which painters cannot catch like faces sinning Against proportion. and with a gentle bow (Curt'sies are neither used by Turks nor Greeks) She took Juanna by the hand to show Their place of rest. budding. And I shall place Juanna with Dudu. And serious more than pensive.' Replied Katinka. Of Guebres. still are like. was a sweet creature. child?'. Not very dashing. and Lolah on both cheeks. and Ginns. Luxuriant. as has been said. . and serene. 'Between your dreams and you. I fear Juanna's dreams would be but few. you The same. But she was pensive more than melancholy. It was a spacious chamber (Oda is The Turkish title).' quoth she. Where all was harmony. but extremely winning.the wild strokes of nature Which they hit off at once in the beginning. And I of your young charge will take due care. for reasons which don't matter. 'Besides.and much more than this I might describe.don't say no.Than you would make the half of. as Her talents were of the more silent class. And even those were nearer than they knew. And then I have the worst dreams that can be. though they held their tongues from deference. But she rose up. Who 's quiet. if not happiness.little was amiss. and Gouls in hosts. 'You. save one or two. 'I am sure I see A phantom upon each of the four posts. until by and by. toilets.' The dame replied. But it suffices. that strike. Dudu. is much more nigh it Than are your mighty passions and so forth. And will not toss and chatter the night through. Giaours.Dudu said nothing.. Katinka. and left to both their piques. and said. With the most regulated charms of feature. right or wrong. shy. Katinka. With all things ladies want. Which some call 'the sublime:' I wish they 'd try it: I 've seen your stormy seas and stormy women. The matron frown'd: 'Why so?'. inoffensive. too. Which. But she was a soft landscape of mild earth. Lolah. as I have seen it all. 'T was on the whole a nobly furnish'd hall. and kiss'd the matron's brow Between the eyes. and ranged round the wall Were couches. And pleasing or unpleasing. I hate to sleep alone. must continue still to lie Alone. and quiet. And pity lovers rather more than seamen. silent. What say you. cheerful without mirth. and calm. The others pouting at the matron's preference Of Dudu.' But here Katinka interfered. Full of expression. 'She also had compassion and a bed.

appear to have been.Dudu. .then don't.I am not less free. at least In outward show. but The brazen uppermost). a sort of style that 's grown Extremely common in this age. she was wholly Unconscious. whose metal The devil may decompose. and that 's a blunder. With every kindness short of ostentation. And then she gave Juanna a chaste kiss: Dudu was fond of kissing. which cost little. or dark. or tall.not unholy Her thoughts. But what was not. or short. 'T is time we should return to plain narration. That she was fair. carelessly array'd: If fond of a chance ogle at her glass. Because 't is pleasant. in the lake display'd. so that it be pure. She never thought about herself at all. which.in words extremely few: I have but one simile. Thus most appropriately has been shown 'Lucus a non lucendo. albeit turn'd of quick seventeen. For wordless woman. at least till now. Show'd Juan.' Which was a mixture of all metals. And next she gave her (I say her.It may be. And thus my narrative proceeds:.what 's strange. 'Kiss' rhymes to 'bliss' in fact as well as verseI wish it never led to something worse. beauteous. and then returns to peep. And between females means no more than thisThat they have nothing better near. Kind reader! pass This long parenthesis: I could not shut It sooner for the soul of me.which I 'm sure That nobody can ever take amiss. When first she starts. And therefore was she kind and gentle as The Age of Gold (when gold was yet unknown. Beholds her own shy. In perfect innocence she then unmade Her toilet. because The gender still was epicene. but never settle: I think it may be of 'Corinthian Brass. more than either. for she was A child of Nature.' not what was. or newer. Put A kind construction upon them and me: But that you won't. By which the more a haram is increased. or Juanna. shadowy image pass. Admiring this new native of the deep. and class My faults even with your own! which meaneth. The strangest thing was. 'T was like the fawn. which is a saving clause) An outline of the customs of the East. By which its nomenclature came to pass. The stricter doubtless grow the vestal duties Of any supernumerary beauties. With all their chaste integrity of laws. which is silent thunder. through and through This labyrinth of females. and each station Described.

Pricking her fingers with those cursed pins. Not to be rashly touch'd. They should have walk'd there in their sprightliest trim. but there were lamps. But still more dread. Which surely were invented for our sins. With cost. slightly stirring in her snowy shroud.And one by one her articles of dress Were laid aside. and yet incessant. whose excess Of modesty declined the assistance proffer'd: Which pass'd well off. Oh ye! whose fate it is. But these are foolish things to all the wise. But still the spouseless virgin Knowledge flies. to turn a lady's maid. There was deep silence in the chamber: dim And distant from each other burn'd the lights. for 'T was night. while slowly stray'd . Many and beautiful lay those around. As. One with her auburn tresses lightly bound. as the fruit Nods from the tree.I did my very boyish best to shine In tricking her out for a masquerade.as she could do no less. was slumbering with soft breath. although it sounds so. A third's all pallid aspect offer'd more The traits of sleeping sorrow. In some exotic garden sometimes found. from a tyrant to a tree. Like flowers of different hue.Making a woman like a porcupine. And slumber hover'd o'er each lovely limb Of the fair occupants: if there be sprites. What are we? and whence came we? what shall be Our ultimate existence? what 's our present? Are questions answerless. And smiling through her dream. and dime. half unveil'd each further charm. By way of change from their sepulchral sites. This is no bull. And fair brows gently drooping. Though by this politesse she rather suffer'd. and betray'd Through the heaved breast the dream of some far shore Beloved and deplored. lay dreaming soft and warm. My tendency is to philosophise On most things. and care. which show'd the pearls beneath. And shown themselves as ghosts of better taste Than haunting some old ruin or wild waste. One with her flush'd cheek laid on her white arm. but not Stuck all exactly in the proper spot. as hath been said. In early youth. and warmth induced to shoot. as through a cloud The moon breaks. And lips apart. and root. but not before she offer'd Her aid to fair Juanna. And raven ringlets gather'd in dark crowd Above her brow. And I love wisdom more than she loves me. Her beauties seized the unconscious hour of night All bashfully to struggle into light. The pins were placed sufficiently. as once 't was mine.

unclosed her eyes.' which means Certainly aged. and ankles glancing bare. Alike might puzzle either wit or dunce . One on the other. A fourth as marble. not quite so fair to see. And now commenced a strict investigation. that upstarted all The Oda. and frighten'd.so they say At least.. as looks a frozen rill. too. All trembling. as all spoke at once and more than once. And bosoms. But wide awake she was.they sought her cause of care. And lo! a fifth appears. Lay in a breathless.Juanna lay As fast as ever husband by his mate In holy matrimony snores away.. throughout the whole hall.. But there she slept. and round her bed. and those whom you may call Neither. ere they shook her. in a general commotion: Matron and maids.. about The apartment.perhaps you 'll be content With a carved lady on a monument. And yawn'd a good deal with discreet surprise. But ere the middle watch was hardly over. Or the snow minaret on an Alpine steep. So pick and choose. or dream'd. Or Lot's wife done in salt. flush'd. And phantoms hover'd. wondering. arms. But what was strange. To meditate upon their sins and self. and light but hurried tread.and then she.and a strong proof how great A blessing is sound sleep. on a cypress glittering.and what is she? A lady of a 'certain age. With floating draperies and with flying hair.. cold. For she seem'd agitated. asking a narration. But all this time how slept.My similes are gather'd in a heap. Which. or might seem to hover. never counting past their teens. And scorn to add a syllable untrue. With eager eyes. and stony sleep. tinges The black bough) tear-drops through her eyes' dark fringes. Not all the clamour broke her happy state Of slumber. wondering. Conjecturing. came crowding like the waves of ocean.what her years might be I know not.or what you will. hush'd. without the least notion More than I have myself of what could make The calm Dudu so turbulently wake. on a sudden she scream'd out: And that so loudly. And bright as any meteor ever bred By the North Pole. statue-like and still. To those who like their company. and pure. Just when the fading lamps waned dim and blue. Her eye dilated and her colour heighten'd.(As night-dew. White. As ere that awful period intervenes Which lays both men and women on the shelf. Dudu? With strict inquiry I could ne'er discover.

But always at a most provoking height. when she least had hope. or that which one deems A 'strange coincidence. to Bring down the fruit.' to use a phrase By which such things are settled now-a-days. And in the midst a golden apple grew. the usual consequence of dreams Of the unpleasant kind.A most prodigious pippin. what his Highness's physician Will say to this hysteric of a vision. That just as her young lip began to ope Upon the golden fruit the vision bore. 'And poor Juanna. You surely are unwell. child! we must see. Began. 'I 've heard of stories of a cock and bull. To scold a little at the false alarm That broke for nothing on their sleeping car. as is the consequence of fear. and then. of walking in a woodA 'wood obscure. that she threw Her glances on it. The damsels. A bee flew out and stung her to the heart. And said that she was sorry she had cried. and bite it to the core. At length she said. And chafed at poor Dudu. too. Would make us think the moon is at its full. But. who had thoughts of some great harm.. To-morrow. who only sigh'd.she awoke with a great scream and start. The matron. too. Dudu had never pass'd for wanting sense. And so. was wroth to leave her warm Bed for the dream she had been obliged to hear. All this she told with some confusion and Dismay. where dames with virtue crown'd Run much less risk of lovers turning rude. But visions of an apple and a bee. To take us from our natural rest. Life's half-way house.' Could not at first expound what was amiss. flung Stones and whatever she could pick up. and pull The whole Oda from their beds at half-past three. And that this wood was full of pleasant fruits. and dangled yet in sight. I 've known some odd ones which seem'd really plann'd Prophetically. It fell down of its own accord before Her feet. that in a slumber sound She dream'd a dream. which still perversely clung To its own bough. with none at hand To expound their vain and visionary gleams. being 'no orator as Brutus is.That on a sudden.but it hung Rather too high and distant. And trees of goodly growth and spreading roots.the child's first night Within these walls to be broke in upon . longing.' like that where Dante found Himself in at the age when all grow good.To answer in a very clear oration. that her first movement was to stoop And pick it up.

And so good night to them. And here Juanna kindly interposed. Dudu. and recover. Save that of dreaming once 'mal-a-propos.With such a clamour! I had thought it right That the young stranger should not lie alone. a good night's rest have known. as her sound sleep disclosed When all around rang like a tocsin bell: She did not find herself the least disposed To quit her gentle partner.. gem. nor can expound The mystery of this rupture of their rest. Array'd herself with mantle. nervous. A fond hallucination. Good morrow. with large drops in her own. which girds Asia. Implored that present pardon might be shown For this first fault. . Gulbeyaz rose from restlessness. and a theme For laughter.' Lolah's eyes sparkled at the proposition. She promised never more to have a dream. I can't tell why she blush'd. and to dwell Apart from one who had no sin to show. she 'd get over This weakness in a few hours. And begg'd they would excuse her. she might With you. With the first ray.though her couch is not so large. and pale As passion rises. and that on no condition (She added in a soft and piteous tone) Juanna should be taken from her. And said she felt herself extremely well Where she then was. which in the chill Of dewy dawn wound slowly round each height That stretches to the stony belt. where Kaff looks down upon the Kurds. All that I know is. She wonder'd at herself how she could scream'T was foolish. or rather grey of morn. but that was found The colour of a budding rose's crest.' As thus Juanna spoke. At least to dream so loudly as just now. and veil. as the quietest of all. Is lighter far of heart and voice than those Whose headlong passions form their proper woes. Which fable places in her breast of wail. The nightingale that sings with the deep thorn. that the facts I state Are true as truth has ever been of late. and light Began to clothe each Asiatic hill.for the cock had crown. But now I must transfer her to the charge Of Lolah. Resulting from the scolding or the vision. And the mosque crescent struggled into sight Of the long caravan. and Her future dreams should all be kept in hand. Dudu turn'd round And hid her face within Juanna's breast: Her neck alone was seen.or.but she felt her spirits low. But poor Dudu. if you will. as she must allow. And. with its bosom worn.

so you be Your father's son. Though an unusual fit of love. let not this last phrase offend Thine ear. But oh. And now he rose. if it should reach. Though pale with conflicts between love and pride. or whate'er you please to rhyme on: But people's ancestors are history's game. That hater of mankind. To call men love-begotten or proclaim Their mothers as the antipodes of Timon. Whose victories had recently increased In Catherine's reign. As greatest of all sovereigns and w__s. which is natural. And of a wife by whom he was abhorr'd.But that they will not do without suspicion. whom glory still adores.So beautiful that art could little mend her. as one may like to have a fan. her great lord. As an amusement after the Divan. She did not even look into the mirror. The numbers are too great for them to flatter all.So agitated was she with her error. thou grand legitimate Alexander! Her son's son. Also arose about the self-same time. While gentle writers also love to lift Their voices 'gainst each other. or duty. And therefore of Circassians had good store. Softer than the soft Sybarite's.And that 's the moral of this composition. Because all gentle readers have the gift Of closing 'gainst the light their orbs of vision. who cried Aloud because his feelings were too tender To brook a ruffled rose-leaf by his side. And if one lady's slip could leave a crime on . nor Indeed on any other: as a man He liked to have a handsome paramour At hand. And then withdrew to hear about the Russians. A thing of much less import in that climeAt least to those of incomes which afford The filling up their whole connubial cargoThan where two wives are under an embargo. If people would but see its real drift. A libel. 't is quite enough for me. Had made him lately bask in his bride's beauty. which blend Their roar even with the Baltic's. and after due ablutions Exacted by the customs of the East. would be a shame. He drank six cups of coffee at the least. Perhaps a little later. Rose the sultana from a bed of splendour. He did not think much on the matter.and now rhymes wander Almost as far as Petersburgh and lend A dreadful impulse to each loud meander Of murmuring Liberty's wide waves. Master of thirty kingdoms so sublime. And prayers and other pious evolutions.

And when she saw him stumbling like a steed . the where and how He had pass'd the night. although Perhaps precarious. with some embarrassment. And whether he had occupied their station. replied To this long catechism of questions. meet and share 'em. Mother of pearl.but all descriptions garble The true effect. a sweet place For love or breakfast. his Highness had to hold His daily council upon ways and means How to encounter with this martial scold. pleasing. And here she summon'd Baba. Vied with each other on this costly spot. and porphyry. If matters had been managed as desired. the infallible resource To which embarrass'd people have recourse. And singing birds without were heard to warble. Meantime Gulbeyaz. and information Of what had pass'd since all the slaves retired. Retired into her boudoir.many a precious stone Sparkled along its roof. But there seem'd something that he wish'd to hide.A lively reader's fancy does the rest.that he had tried His best to obey in what he had been task'd.. and above all. and many a vase Of porcelain held in the fetter'd flowers. But as it was. Without the aid of prince or plenipo: She to dismiss her guards and he his haram. private. And for their other matters.All generations. She liked quick answers in all conversations. when her king was gone. which kings rarely know Until 't is taught by lessons rather rude. Nor much disposed to wait in word or deed. Baba. And the stain'd glass which lighted this fair grot Varied each ray. And rich with all contrivances which grace Those gay recesses:. I should like to know What pedigree the best would have to show? Had Catherine and the sultan understood Their own true interests. He scratch'd his ear. and required Don Juan at his hands. was what she wish'd to know. and marble. Gulbeyaz was no model of true patience. ask'd More easily than answer'd. lone. which leans Sometimes a little heavy on the backs Of those who cannot lay on a new tax. There was a way to end their strife. had they but thought good.. and so we had better not Be too minute. And the perplexity could not be told Of all the pillars of the state. Which hesitation more betray'd than mask'd. And his disguise with due consideration Kept up. This modern Amazon and queen of queans. Those captive soothers of a captive's hours. an outline is the best.

ears rung. besides the Koran. in fact 'T was certain that his conduct had been pure. But ended in his being found out and sack'd. When Baba saw these symptoms.and might have talk'd till now. upon whom The discipline of the whole haram bore. brain whirl'd round. agonised. Had settled all. but there he err'dIt was but a convulsion. And as his speech grew still more broken-kneed. And her proud brow's blue veins to swell and darkle. nor could he then presume (The aforesaid Baba) just then to do more. which though short Can never be described. And talk'd away. When all the heart-strings like wild horses pull The heart asunder. he could be sure Juan had not betray'd himself. and beseech'd she 'd hear him throughHe could not help the thing which he related: Then out it came at length. For any further answer that he found. But not by Baba's fault. he deprecated Her anger.Thus Baba spoke Of all save Dudu's dream.In his replies. Her face declined and was unseen. And some of us have felt thus 'all amort.. as hath been stated. her eyes to sparkle. As if she had received a sudden blow. . So deep an anguish wrung Gulbeyaz' brow: Her cheek turn'd ashes.' When things beyond the common have occurr'd. As soon as they re-enter'd their own room.Gulbeyaz proved in that brief agony What she could ne'er express. her hair Fell in long tresses like the weeping willow. and full Of inspiration gather'd from distress. Her cheek began to flush. Baba thought she would faint. Although she was not of the fainting sort. like Morning's on a lily. and swore on The holy camel's hump. For Baba's function stopt short at the door. she puzzled him for fresh ones. which was no joke. This he discreetly kept in the background. And thrown into the sea. Because a foolish or imprudent act Would not alone have made him insecure. She sunk down on her seat by slow degrees. he said. that to Dudu Juan was given in charge. He hoped. we all have heard.. indeed he thought. as more or lees Their speed abated or their strength grew dull. And the heart's dew of pain sprang fast and chilly O'er her fair front.then. And bow'd her throbbing head o'er trembling knees. The chief dame of the Oda. Without exciting such suspicion as Might make the matter still worse than it was. which he knew To bode him no great good.then how should I? She stood a moment as a Pythones Stands on her tripod.

And her brow clear'd.you may sometimes trace A feeling in each footstep. And yet he shudder'd.and added. 'To hear is to obey. 'The Georgian and her paramour. Baba. but still the sea ran high.but paused. and black despair Stirr'd up and down her bosom like a billow. At length she rose up. And then moved on again with rapid pace. Or rather sofa (for it was all pillow.Sweeping the marble underneath her chair. Sultana. And one hand o'er the ottoman lay drooping. even in their severest sense. and began to walk Slowly along the room. who knew by experience when to talk And when to hold his tongue. For fear of any error. . She would revoke the order he had heard. Despite her injured love and fiery pride. and begg'd leave to crave (Though he well knew the meaning) to be shown What slaves her highness wish'd to indicate. In case of any premature disclosure. now held it till This passion might blow o'er. The wind was down. 'but still. A low soft ottoman). Gulbeyaz stopp'd and beckon'd Baba:. and as alabaster pale: Would that I were a painter! to be grouping All that a poet drags into detail Oh that my words were colours! but their tints May serve perhaps as outlines or slight hints. and raised her head to speak. And begg'd by every hair of Mahomet's beard. 'Let the boat Be ready by the secret portal's side: You know the rest.' he said. and her long hair in stooping Conceal'd her features better than a veil. but must receive its wreck. White. show'd Their work even by the way in which he trode. But one which Baba did not like to brave. as disclosed By Sallust in his Catiline. Her head hung down.' The words stuck in her throat. And of this Baba willingly took note. nor dared to balk Gulbeyaz' taciturn or speaking will. but not her troubled eye. and seem'd rather prone To prove reluctant. Even at your own imperative expense: I do not mean destruction and exposure. but silent still.'Slave! Bring the two slaves!' she said in a low tone. think upon the consequence: It is not that I shall not all fulfil Your orders. Then slacken'd it. waxen. She stopp'd. which is the march most caused By deep emotion:. Which rushes to some shore whose shingles check Its farther course. who. chased By all the demons of all passions.' replied The imperial bride. like the late. But such precipitation may end ill.

The Muse will take a little touch at warfare. And above all be comb'd even to a hair. CANTO_THE_SEVENTH CANTO THE SEVENTH. But go they must at once. And brought before the empress. And trusting Juan may escape the fishes. Like other angry ladies of her nation. I leave them for the present with good wishes. pride.Wretch! Begone!' she cried. O LOVE! O Glory! what are ye who fly Around us ever. Growling and grumbling in good Turkish phrase Against all women of whate'er condition. with kindling eyes. seraglio guest. rarely to alight? There 's not a meteor in the polar sky . for the dishes Of this our banquet we must sometimes change. Their never knowing their own mind two days.Are things the turning of a hair or feather May settle. And if this violent remedy be triedExcuse my freedom. which hide Already many a once love-beaten breast Deep in the caverns of the deadly tideYou love this boyish. Which made him daily bless his own neutrality. wherein whether Gulbeyaz show'd them both commiseration. and Juan silly. And sent one on a summons to the pair.' 'What dost thou know of love or feeling?. and indecision. to arrange Another part of history. That they must instantly be well array'd. who had made Inquiries after them with kindest care: At which Dudu look'd strange. Though doubts of their well doing.'and do My bidding!' Baba vanish'd. for to stretch His own remonstrance further he well knew Might end in acting as his own 'Jack Ketch. And then he call'd his brethren to his aid. Especially sultanas and their ways.nill I.'But your own feelings. but far be 't from me to anticipate In what way feminine caprice may dissipate. Their obstinacy. Although his situation now seems strange And scarce secure. Or got rid of the parties altogether. Away he went then upon his commission. That killing him is not the way to cure you. their immorality. The trouble that they gave. as such digressions are fair. And here I leave them at their preparation For the imperial presence. and will I. when I here assure you.' And though he wish'd extremely to get through This awkward business without harm to others. new. He still preferr'd his own neck to another's. Even should all the rest Be hidden by the rolling waves.

Nor even Diogenes.your betters far. and chain'd to cold earth. we lift on high Our eyes in search of either lovely light.the present writer of The present poem. That he himself felt only 'like a youth Picking up shells by the great ocean.then howl your idle wrath! While she still silvers o'er your gloomy path. future. by sage. A thousand and a thousand colours they Assume. our only knowledge was 'To know that nothing could be known. are all things. all know. But ne'ertheless I hope it is no crime To laugh at all things.but a show? They accuse me. Chill. such my present tale is. By saint. or show it By their examples of true Christianity: In short. But which is best. and Wesley.Truth.' Ecclesiastes said. Who knew this life was not worth a potato. As little as the moon stops for the baying Of wolves. will the bright muse withdraw one ray From out her skies. Must I restrain me. what I am now essaying To show ye what ye are in every way. 'that all is vanity'Most modern preachers say the same. 'Fierce loves and faithless wars'. A versified Aurora Borealis. And this they say in language rather rough. or men!. By Fenelon.' a pleasant Science enough. and by poet. and by Plato. Socrates said. through the fear of strife. or read not. by preacher.I know not whatA tendency to under-rate and scoff At human power and virtue. by Luther. or present. past. by Rochefoucault.for I flatter you in saying That ye are dogs. and all that. if this be soFor my part. And in this scene of all-confess'd inanity. Good God! I wonder what they would be at! I say no more than hath been said in Dante's Verse. By Tillotson. 'T is not their fault. A non-descript and ever-varying rhyme. Which flashes o'er a waste and icy clime. we must bewail us.ye may Read. nor mine.Of such transcendent and more fleeting flight. you know no more than I. When we know what all are. after all.for I wish to know What. then leave us on our freezing way. and Rousseau.. From holding up the nothingness of life? Dogs. By Swift. by Machiavel. And such as they are.I am not sure . Newton (that proverb of the mind).of. alas! Declared. I pretend not to be Cato. which levels to an ass Each man of wisdom. or very soon may know it.Me. and by Solomon and by Cervantes. with all his grand discoveries recent.We live and die.

with a narrow gorge. unless 't is since defaced. and is placed Upon the Danube's left branch and left bank. George. Nor work advanced. The fortress is call'd Ismail. could one tell their story? Alas! what to their memory can lack? Achilles' self was not more grim and gory Than thousands of this new and polish'd nation. But as the Danube could not well be waded. With buildings in the Oriental taste. Two batteries. and upon its site A Greek had raised around this elevation A quantity of palisades upright. But still a fortress of the foremost rank. till they were invaded. They look'd upon the Muscovite flotilla. which from its loftier station Commands the city. or Anglice Suwarrow.If this be the right reading. nor cover'd way was there. and to assist the foe's. Who loved blood as an alderman loves marrow. I am secure. And was beleaguer'd both by land and water By Souvaroff. And walls as thick as most skulls born as yet. in bristling tier. Forty feet high. And only shouted.' But a stone bastion. This circumstance may serve to give a notion Of the high talents of this new Vauban: But the town ditch below was deep as ocean. When it grew rather late to set things right. as our St. Or was at least. ye goddesses of war and glory! How shall I spell the name of each Cossacque Who were immortal. While two and twenty cannon duly set Rose over the town's right side.' Of Danube's bank took formidable charge. So placed as to impede the fire of those Who held the place. 'Allah!' and 'Bis Millah!' The Russians now were ready to attack: But oh. Within the extent of this fortification A borough is comprised along the height Upon the left. and am about to batter A town which did a famous siege endure. The rampart higher than you 'd wish to hang: But then there was a great want of precaution (Prithee. The fact 's about the same. I sing them both. Which with your conquerors is a common prank: It stands some eighty versts from the high sea. Because the Turks could never be persuaded A Russian vessel e'er would heave in sight. excuse this engineering slang). To hint at least 'Here is no thoroughfare. Case-mated one. upon a cavalier. But from the river the town 's open quite. . cap-a-pie. And measures round of toises thousands three. And such their creed was. and t' other 'a barbette.'t is no matter.

all the rest Had been call'd 'Jemmy. immortal in a bulletin. and Mouskin Pouskin. if I could poke enough Into gazettes. as e'er scoff'd high Against a foe. I wonder (although Mars no doubt 's a god Praise) if a man's name in a bulletin May make up for a bullet in his body? I hope this little question is no sin. But when I 've added that the elder jack Smith Was born in Cumberland among the hills. Because. Sixteen call'd Thomson. I 've said all I know of a name that fills Three lines of the despatch in taking 'Schmacksmith. and Strokonoff. Koklophti. hard blows to inflict or ward. And cannot tune those discords of narration. I don't know whether they had arms or crest.Whose names want nothing but. and nineteen named Smith. Serge Lwow.' 'ouski: Of whom we can insert but Rousamouski. Kourakin. Meknop. And no more handy substitute been near. but the best Amongst them all. It seems. But wishing to be one day brigadiers. Yet there were several worth commemoration. Jack Thomson and Bill Thomson. but Fame (capricious strumpet). Unless to make their kettle-drums a new skin Out of their hides. or ran a sabre through skin: Little cared they for Mahomet or Mufti. wherein He fell. if but to increase Our euphony: there was Strongenoff. Which may be names at Moscow. Not fighting for their country or its crown.' after the great bard. if parchment had grown dear. And Tschitsshakoff. Scherematoff and Chrematoff.' 'ousckin.' but now he served the Tartars. too. into rhyme. And more might be found out. Three of the Smiths were Peters. And others of twelve consonants apiece. The rest were jacks and Gills and Wills and Bills. and Roguenoff. has got an ear as well as trumpet. 'Mongst them were several Englishmen of pith. Ending in 'ischskin. and Chokenoff. and all volunteers. Soft words. Koclobski. since so renown'd 'in country quarters At Halifax. All proper men of weapons. Then there were foreigners of much renown. Of various nations. Was he. Arsniew of modern Greece. fitted for the peroration Of Londonderry drawling against time. And that his father was an honest blacksmith. .pronunciation. But such a godfather 's as good a card. though I am but a simple noddy.' A village of Moldavia's waste. Still I 'll record a few. As e'er was virgin of a nuptial chime. Also to have the sacking of a town.' 'iffskchy.A pleasant thing to young men at their years.

and as traitors are abhorr'd Who name the French in English.such truths are treason.. or waste. When the sale of new books is not so fleet As they who print them think is necessary. The Russians. The city's shape suggested this. Form'd like an amphitheatre. and knock down The public buildings and the private too.' That one would think the first who bore it 'Adam. A sad miscalculation about distance Made all their naval matters incorrect. And throws a cloud o'er Longman and John Murray.' But 't is a name so spread o'er 'Sir' and 'Madam. And added greatly to the missing list. Their haste.I think one Shakspeare puts the same thought in The mouth of some one in his plays so doting. They either miss'd. young. The first was to bombard it. Saving his soul by cheating in the ware Of homicide. which lay nigh Extremely tranquil. gallant. Thus the same cause which makes a verse want feet. I neither know nor care.' The Russian batteries were incomplete. Because they were constructed in a hurry. or they were never miss'd. save to show How Peace should make John Bull the Frenchman's foe. had two ends in view. which is That of despising those we combat with. The second object was to profit by The moment of the general consternation. A phantasy which sometimes seizes warriors. 't is true. Then there were Frenchmen. May likewise put off for a time what story Sometimes calls 'murder. anchor'd at its station: But a third motive was as probably To frighten them into capitulation. Unless they are game as bull-dogs and fox-terriers. was in this The cause of killing Tchitchitzkoff and Smith. To attack the Turk's flotilla. but there was no solidity In the new batteries erected there. Which many people pass for wits by quoting. I 'd rather tell ten lies than say a word Of truth. Common in many cases. One of the valorous 'Smiths' whom we shall miss Out of those nineteen who late rhymed to 'pith. each dwelling Presented a fine mark to throw a shell in. and gay: But I 'm too great a patriot to record Their Gallic names upon a glorious day. Three fireships lost their amiable existence . having built two batteries on An isle near Ismail. Or some contractor's personal cupidity. A habit rather blamable.' Whether it was their engineer's stupidity. No matter what poor souls might be undone.' and at others 'glory. they betray Their country.

But buried in the heap of such transactions Their names are rarely found. we must allow. though rich in glory. The Prince de Ligne. this last attack. And tried to make a landing on the main. Thus even good fame may suffer sad contractions. And I should still have many things to say.) Renown 's all hit or miss. But when they saw the enemy retire. Names great as any that the roll of Fame has. though 't was dawn. and aided by their own Land batteries. the Turks slept fast as ever. and commenced a cannonade. 'T is true the Memoirs of the Prince de Ligne Have half withdrawn from him oblivion's screen. however. 'If' (says the historian here) 'I could report All that the Russians did upon this day. when still advancing undismay'd. One bark blew up. While. . 'T was nine. They blew up in the middle of the river.' how Many of common readers give a guess That such existed? (and they may live now For aught we know. The Moslem. Which was return'd with interest. This being the case. Within a cable's length their vessels lay Off Ismail. was taken by the Turks. For six hours bore they without intermission The Turkish fire. I will bet You can't repeat nine names from each Gazette. And gall'd the Russians with a heavy fire. I think that several volumes would fall short. Their Delhis mann'd some boats. There 's fortune even in fame. had lost both ships and men.' And so he says no more.but pays his court To some distinguish'd strangers in that fray. And shells and shot of every size and shape. and sail'd again. and Langeron. And made a signal to retreat at one. and survey'd The Russ flotilla getting under way. In short. work'd their guns with great precision: At length they found mere cannonade alone By no means would produce the town's submission. And by a fire of musketry and grape. But here are men who fought in gallant actions As gallantly as ever heroes fought. But here the effect fell short of their desire: Count Damas drove them back into the water Pell-mell. and Damas. a second near the works Running aground. may show us what Fame is: For out of these three 'preux Chevaliers. At seven they rose. nor often sought. And is extinguish'd sooner than she ought: Of all our modern battles.Before they reach'd a spot to take effect: The match was lit too soon. too. and with a whole gazette of slaughter. I may say. and no assistance Could remedy this lubberly defect.

the siege to raise. had the cause Been one to which a good heart could be partialDefence of freedom. In the mean time. country. Field-Marshal Souvaroff. He died beneath a tree. I doubt few readers e'er would mount the breach. his span Had been as short in youth as indigestion Made his last illness. Ribas sent A courier to the prince. And Admiral Ribas (known in Russian story) Most strongly recommended an assault. being six foot high. And fourscore cannon on the Danube's border Were briskly fired and answer'd in due order. Which made a long debate. A courier on the spur inspired new heart Into all panters for newspaper praise. As well as dilettanti in war's art. His glory might half equal his estate. and there was light!' 'Let there be blood!' says man. Save for its style. though they should be Lovely as those which ripen'd Eden's fruit. This was Potemkin. there was a fault.' 'Let there be light! said God. 'You will take Ismail at whatever price. the batteries proceeded. it merits slight applause. But shortly he had cause to be content. By his despatches couch'd in pithy phrase. when already part Of the troops were embark'd. somehow. For had he not been Hercules. But on the thirteenth. and he succeeded In ordering matters after his own bent. But as it was mere lust of power to o'er-arch all With its proud brow. which said. If stars and titles could entail long praise. Who measured men as you would do a steeple. all worn and wan. I cannot tell the way in which he pleaded. all in a trice. This fellow. . when.Show'd that somewhere. as much unblest on The soil of the green province he had wasted. if that he was a man. Announcing the appointment of that lover of Battles to the command. There was a man. In which he was opposed by young and hoary.a great thing in days When homicide and harlotry made great. Not that his manhood could be call'd in question. As e'er was locust on the land it blasted. or of laws. could raise A kind of phantasy proportionate In the then sovereign of the Russian people. and there 's a seal The fiat of this spoil'd child of the Night (For Day ne'er saw his merits) could decree More evil in an hour. While things were in abeyance. but I must halt. than thirty bright Summers could renovate. For if I wrote down every warrior's speech. The letter of the prince to the same marshal Was worthy of a Spartan.

O'er whom Suwarrow shone like a gas lamp. few are slow In thinking that their enemy is beat (Or beaten. his soul. Which stare him in the face. But here I say the Turks were much mistaken. Or as a little dog will lead the blind. And Famine. To gratify. like a huge moth. were at length descried In this plain pair. 'Great joy to London now!' says some great fool. As roll the waters to the breathing wind. . That Sage (said john) surrenders at discretion His purse. Tartar. So that the streets of colour'd lamps are full. wrong or right. They had but little baggage at their backs. Who hating hogs. The fleet and camp saluted with great grace. Were damnably mistaken. For. But to the tale:. he won't examine. But on they rode upon two Ukraine hacks. French. constructed ladders. at full gallop. but root. For there were but three shirts between the two. 'T is thus the spirit of a single mind Makes that of multitudes take one direction. made new. John Bull. Our friends the Turks. who with loud 'Allahs' now Began to signalise the Russ retreat. this one sense. Or swears that Ceres hath begotten Famine. English. if you insist on grammar. who were deem'd Cossacques For some time. and taxes Paradise. Which to that bottle-conjurer. though I never think about it in a heat). Is of all dreams the first hallucination. prepared fascines. that once all-famous oath Is to the devil now no farther prize. Suwarrow and his guide. and even his nonsense. yet wish'd to save their bacon. his sense.' For they are damn'd. But certes matters took a different face. Or roams the herd beneath the bull's protection. Within a cannon-shot length of the place They drew. And all kinds of benevolent machines. Which all who saw it follow'd.For war cuts up not only branch. Since John has lately lost the use of both. in approaching. He flitted to and fro a dancing light. And all presaged good fortune to their cause. 'T is strange that he should farther 'damn his eyes. Or like a wisp along the marsh so damp. Which leads beholders on a boggy walk. There was enthusiasm and much applause. with her gaunt and bony growth. on the sixteenth. drew In sight two horsemen. Till.great joy unto the camp! To Russian. Cossacque. Debt he calls wealth. till they came in nearer view. When London had a grand illumination. repair'd flaws In former works. Presaging a most luminous attack.

Since there is discord after both at least): There was not now a luggage boy but sought Danger and spoil with ardour much increased. That stranger to most councils. holds good as aught. that he. scimitars. And every difficulty being dispell'd. determined to obtain it. and never take it ill: He show'd them how to mount a ladder (which Was not like Jacob's) or to cross a ditch. a corporal's duty to fulfil: Just as you 'd break a sucking salamander To swallow flame. and could afford to squander His time. drilling. with a thirst For glory gaping o'er a sea of slaughter: The third. By way of lesson against actual Turks: And when well practised in these mimic scenes. Glory began to dawn with due sublimity. The whole camp rung with joy. but he took the city.there was little din. commander In chief. was come to lead the van. attack'd by water. in columns two. Such is the sway of your great men o'er little. Stript to his shirt. I think. and every preparation Was made with all alacrity: the first Detachment of three columns took its station. and dirks. And made them charge with bayonet these machines. ordering. New batteries were erected. and all the camp was in A stern repose. Was teaching his recruits to use the bayonet It is an actual fact. For the man was. . He judged them proper to assail the works. Also he dress'd up. here prevail'd. Most things were in this posture on the eve Of the assault. pondering. But so it was. Suwarrow chiefly was on the alert. And waited but the signal's voice to burst Upon the foe: the second's ordination Was also in three columns. While Souvaroff. you would have thought That they were going to a marriage feast (This metaphor. At which your wise men sneer'd in phrases witty: He made no answer.old man. for the nonce.Or a bell-wether form the flock's connection By tinkling sounds. in which unanimity. Surveying. which you would scarce conceive. we safely may assert. As sometimes happens in a great extremity. fascines Like men with turbans. when they go forth to victual. And others of themselves and latter ends. jesting. and was held A general council.odd. Yet men resolved to dash through thick and thin Are very silent when they once believe That all is settled:. in proper person deign'd to drill The awkward squad. And why? because a little. For some were thinking of their home and friends.

'What next?'. The day before the assault.' was the reply. Had met a party towards the twilight's fall.For deeming human clay but common dirt.'What you see us.'I was not slack At least to follow those who might be so. when he saw this company Of Cossacques and their prey. for he who answer'd knew To whom he spoke. who was standing in his shirt Before a company of Calmucks. Exclaiming. instructing. They found that he had fought beneath their banner. buffoon.'Yes. Captives just now escaped.'I really hardly know. swearing at the inert.' 'What follow'd?'. hovering like hawks round a hill. or speech.' The chief threw on The party a slight glance.'I know . This great philosopher was thus instilling His maxims. plundering. But whether from his voice.'. but you might have guess'd That these were merely masquerading Tartars. Whereon immediately at his request They brought him and his comrades to head-quarters. 'Your names?'. turn'd round and cast Upon them his slow brow and piercing eye:'Whence come ye?'.Suwarrow.'. and half-dirt. then said. fooling. Praying. or manner.A thing to wonder at beyond most wondering.' 'You served at Widdin?'. Hero.'Where'er you please.'. 'T was much that he was understood at all. and when bent to storm A fortress. while upon drillFor this great conqueror play'd the corporalSome Cossacques. And lecturing on the noble art of killing. and made his words but few.' Briefly pass'd This dialogue.'A shot laid me on my back.'The same. now Momus. 'I have heard Your name before. The other two are women. drilling. Harlequin in uniform. which sometimes barters Her inward grace for outward show.or well or ill. for the town surrounded Is twice as strong as that where you were wounded. 'Where will you serve?'. desolating.' 'You were the first i' the breach?'. half-demon. One of whom spoke their tongue. and makes It difficult to shun some strange mistakes.' 'You shall have vengeance. Suwarrow. And that beneath each Turkish-fashion'd vest Lurk'd Christianity. 'What are ye?'. Their dress was Moslem.'From Constantinople last.I think I have heard your name In the Nikolaiew regiment?'. Now Mars. and the third Is neither man nor woman. the second is a new one: To bring the other three here was absurd: But let that pass:. And I became a prisoner to the foe. which to martial comprehension Proved death in battle equal to a pension.'You led the attack?' 'I did.'Mine 's Johnson. and my comrade 's Juan.

take him to (Here he call'd up a Polish orderly) His post. Oh. glorious laurel! since for one sole leaf Of thine imaginary deathless tree.who by no means had been bred To be disposed of in a way so new. which should be Now under arms. as hens their wings about their young. He 's a fine boy. With flashing eyes and starting tears.' 'He shall if that he dare. you Will join your former regiment. 'I confess My debt in being thus allow'd to die Among the foremost.You like to be the hope of the forlorn. And doubtless would be foremost on the foe After the hardships you 've already borne. though engaged with accents high In his resumed amusement. who knew by this long colloquy Himself a favourite.Here he turn'd And drill'd away in the most classic Russian. . Suwarrow Continued: 'Your old regiment's allow'd. my friend And self would know what duty to attend. 'So now. O'er the promoted couple of brave men Who were thus honour'd by the greatest chief That ever peopled hell with heroes slain. Why. And this young fellow. or to the sick tent. and its tusk Be unimpeded by the proudest mosque. foolish mortals! Always taught in vain! Oh. I mean the regiment Nikolaiew: The stranger stripling may remain with me. but if you 'd express Explicitly our several posts. Passive obedience. as if from a cushion A preacher had held forth (who nobly spurn'd All earthly goods save tithes) and bade them push on To slay the Pagans who resisted.. heroic bosom burn'd For cash and conquest. if he hath no greater fault In war than love.' 'Right! I was busy. Johnson. he had better lead the assault. that shortly plough or harrow Shall pass o'er what was Ismail. ventured to address Suwarrow. for glory!'. and flung Their arms.. The women may be sent To the other baggage.' Here Juan bow'd Low as the compliment deserved. Although their haram education led Doubtless to that of doctrines the most true.' But here a sort of scene began to ensue: The ladies.say what can he do? He with the beardless chin and garments torn?' 'Why. my lads. battering The armies of the Christian Empress Catherine. By special providence. Or it may be to-night.now raised up the head. general. the assault: I have vow'd To several saints. Until each high. Or plunged a province or a realm in grief. to lead to-morrow. Ho! Katskoff. and forgot.

plainly clad. 'But these are but two Turkish ladies. who was much more sentimental. rich in many a gem. nor was their surprise Less than their grief (and truly not less just) To see an old man. To them. More fear'd than all the sultans ever seen. Johnson.Of blood and tears must flow the unebbing sea. Though little versed in feelings oriental. He said. besmear'd with dust. With all the pomp of power. And not our own. Suggested some slight comfort in his way: Don Juan. I therefore. As leaving a small family at large. Suwarrow. with a slight shade Of feeling: for however habit sears Men's hearts against whole millions. seeing their extreme dismay. Look'd on as if in doubt if they could trust Their own protectors. and seen In safety to the waggons. rather wild than wise In aspect. when their trade Is butchery. Who were accustom'd. . Request that they may both be used genteelly. if you wish me to fight freely. who With their attendant aided our escape. Now to them. where alone In fact they can be safe. sometimes a single sorrow Will touch even heroes.' 'May it please your excellency. I hate recruits with wives. with swimming eyes. And afterwards accompanied us through A thousand perils in this dubious shape. and that not too clean. what the devil do you mean By bringing women here? They shall be shown All the attention possible. poor things. You should have been Aware this kind of baggage never thrives: Save wed a year. Like an imperial peacock stalk abroad (That royal bird. who had small regard for tears. As they could read in all eyes. whose tail 's a diadem). it was a doubt How power could condescend to do without. John Johnson. And not much sympathy for blood.' thus replied Our British friend.'Why.and in the kindest Calmuck tone. it is an awkward scrape. Swore they should see him by the dawn of day. as a sort of god. For every thing seem'd resting on his nod. To me this kind of life is not so new.and such was Suwarrow. I am too qualified By service with my military brothers To break the rules by bringing one's own bride Into a camp: I know that nought so bothers The hearts of the heroic on a charge. To see the sultan. Stript to his waistcoat.' Meantime these two poor girls. survey'd The women with their hair about their ears And natural agonies.. 'these are the wives of others.

Suwarrow. A mortgage on Humanity's estate)While their beloved friends began to arm. the grand desideratum! Of which.What was 't to him to hear two women sob? Nothing. There should be ne'ertheless a slight substratum. We only can but talk of escalade.these to await. ye less grand long lists of kill'd and wounded! Shade of Leonidas. To burn a town which never did them harm. Providence. and sighs. and some slight kisses. And as the wind a widow'd nation's wail. ye great bulletins of Bonaparte! Oh. thou eternal Homer! who couldst charm All cars. . Which now is leagued young Freedom to annoy. According to the artillery's hits or misses.for females like exaggeration. batteries. To vie with thee would be about as vain As for a brook to cope with ocean's flood. though long. But now the town is going to be attack'd. instead of slaying Priam's son. they found some consolation In this. or Fate (Uncertainty is one of many blisses.who but saw things in the gross. Than in thy Greek gazette of that campaign. which stick in the soft Muses' gullets. And then with tears. who fought so hearty. bastions. They parted for the present. thou eternal Homer! I have now To paint a siege. at least in fact. By merely wielding with poetic arm Arms to which men will never more resort. With deadlier engines and a speedier blow.The work of glory still went on In preparations for a cannonade As terrible as that of Ilion.Hard words. strange to say. like all men else. bullets. But now. What sages call Chance. If Homer had found mortars ready made. drums.how shall I relate 'em? Souls of immortal generals! Phoebus watches To colour up his rays from your despatches.. Being much too gross to see them in detail. Bombs. Unless gunpowder should be found to harm Much less than is the hope of every court.Or that the Russian army should repent all: And. Oh. all ages. And cared as little for his army's loss (So that their efforts should at length prevail) As wife and friends did for the boils of job. bayonets. But they will not find Liberty a Troy:Oh. though so short. And fact is truth. Great deeds are doing.. howe'er the Muse describes each act. Who calculated life as so much dross. guns. wherein more men were slain. Oh. I must allow. But still we moderns equal you in blood. And yet. If not in poetry.

rank. while with straggling light The stars peep through the vapours dim and dank. that he scuds before it like a brig. OH blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds! These are but vulgar oaths. And almost every day. Say. Like a bob-major from a village steeple. Too gentle reader! and most shocking sounds: And so they are. in sad reality. Afflicting young folks with a sort of dizziness. and as my true Muse expounds At present such things. since they are her theme. so fleeting. Medals. As purple to the Babylonian harlot: An uniform to boys is like a fan To women. embroidery. The hum of armies gathering rank on rank! Lo! dusky masses steal in dubious sight Along the leaguer'd wall and bristling bank Of the arm'd river. Or. if that simple sentence should displease. as you may deem. . The next shall ring a peal to shake all people. dividing life from death. ere my Muse perceives fatigue. and some say he sees.When my poor Greece was once.how soon the smoke Of Hell shall pall them in a deeper cloak! Here pause we for the present. when we come to sum up the totality Of deeds to human happiness most dear. lace. yet thus is Glory's dream Unriddled. there is scarce a crimson varlet But deems himself the first in Glory's van. Caesar's Commentaries! now impart. Some sucking hero is compell'd to rear. A schooner. Struck for an instant on the hearts of men.and all will be life again! The march! the charge! the shouts of either faith! Hurra! and Allah! and. CANTO_THE_EIGHTH CANTO THE EIGHTH.as even then That awful pause. Which curl in curious wreaths:. Turns out to be a butcher in great business. to the Muse.one moment more. Hark! through the silence of the cold. Are things immortal to immortal man. When I call 'fading' martial immortality. The death-cry drowning in the battle's roar. surrounded! Oh. I mean. dull night. Who. and if you would find What that is. ribands. Because he runs before it like a pig. Thousands of whom were drawing their last breath! A moment.but it is time to ease This Canto. scarlet. But Glory's glory. ye Shadows of glory! (lest I be confounded) A portion of your fading twilight hues. that every age and every year. as now.ask the pig who sees the wind! At least he feels it. or. So beautiful.

they mean but wars. War's merit it by no means might enhance. Though they may make Corruption gape or stare. which cut off in vain Immediately in others grew again. and stream embraced.the fire. Answering the Christian thunders with like voices: Then one vast fire. to their foes Hurling defiance: city. like a lion from his den.because it brings self-approbation. All was prepared. after all its glare. How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound! While the mere victor's may appal or stun The servile and the vain. such names will be A watchword till the future shall be free. the sword. earth. and shore . And why?. As hath been done. History can only take things in the gross. Which arch'd the horizon like a fiery cloud. When up the bristling Moslem rose at last. Which (it may be) has not much left to spare. The army. air. when The restless Titan hiccups in his den. arches.A human Hydra. loud as even the roar Of war's most mortal engines. And such they are. than shedding seas of gore.man's make millions ashes! The column order'd on the assault scarce pass'd Beyond the Russian batteries a few toises. except in Freedom's battles. or a loftier station. or smite rarely. Yet. bridges. what you will. March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay. While the whole rampart blazed like Etna. Shouts. Which breathes of nations saved. Whose heads were heroes. The night was dark. o'ercame The ear far more than thunder. Bellona. mere conquest to advance. and the thick mist allow'd Nought to be seen save the artillery's flame. And one enormous shout of 'Allah!' rose In the same moment. perchance In balancing the profit and the loss. pensions from a nation. And in the Danube's waters shone the sameA mirror'd hell! the volleying roar. Whereas the other. The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame. issuing from its fen To breathe destruction on its winding way. for Heaven's flashes Spare. A higher title. stream. Which rock'd as 't were beneath the mighty noises. not worlds undone. and loud Long booming of each peal on peal.and such they will be found: Not so Leonidas and Washington. Whose every battle-field is holy ground. the men To wield them in their terrible array.So be they her inspirers! Call them Mars. To waste so much gold for a little dross. in the end. But could we know them in detail. Are nothing but a child of Murder's rattles.

The Prince de Ligne was wounded in the knee. in fact. To teach him greater. the all-white eye Turn'd back within its socket. who could thus evince His sympathy for rank. Hark! through All sounds it pierceth 'Allah! Allah! Hu!' The columns were in movement one and all. Insisting on removal of the prince Amidst some groaning thousands dying near. within our ears the ills Past. to make a bloody diuretic. make mankind worth destroying. Three hundred cannon threw up their emetic. Mortality! thou hast thy monthly bills.The General Markow. thy physicians. Because it then received no injury More than the cap. Thy plagues. push'd on To take a battery on the right. by the same token. . And thirty thousand muskets flung their pills Like hail.these reward Your rank and file by thousands. that great son of slaughter.why not lead to lead? Also the General Markow.glory 's a great thing:Think what it is to be in your old age Maintain'd at the expense of your good king: A moderate pension shakes full many a sage..Resounded 'Allah!' and the clouds which close With thick'ning canopy the conflict o'er. Brigadier. And heroes are but made for bards to sing. the ball could mean No harm unto a right legitimate head: 'Ashes to ashes'. while the rest May win perhaps a riband at the breast! Yet I love glory. There the still varying pangs. 'Carnage' (so Wordsworth tells you) 'is God's daughter:' If he speak truth. Which is still better. too. yet tick. which multiply Until their very number makes men hard By the infinities of agony. the others. present.All common fellows.but all may yield To the true portrait of one battle-field. which proves the head to be Aristocratic as was ever seen. As brave as ever faced both bomb and ball. and Just now behaved as in the Holy Land. thus in verse to wage Your wars eternally. and to come. the roll in dust. thy famines. Vibrate to the Eternal name. Which meet the gaze whate'er it may regardThe groan. Count Chapeau-Bras. But of the portion which attack'd by water. had his own leg broken. she is Christ's sister. already disembark'd. besides enjoying Half-pay for life. And shriek for water into a deaf ear. who might writhe and wince. Though led by Arseniew. had a ball between His cap and head. Thicker than leaves the lives began to fall... The troops. Like the death-watch.

Besides its lava. repulsed by the close fire.which doubtless fairly dealt By the deceased. Thus on they wallow'd in the bloody mire Of dead and dying thousands. Though 't was Don Juan's first of fields. And what is worse still.. which brought them nigher To some odd angle for which all were straining. Quite orderly. And this was admirable. or throw A glance on the dull clouds (as thick as starch. one whole bright bulletin. when courage does not glow So much as under a triumphal arch. not knowing The way which they had never trod before. yawn. To their two selves. who lie in famous slumber In ditches. with all sorts of shot And shells or hells. . Firing. and though The nightly muster and the silent march In the chill dark. and thrusting.Yet for all this he did not run away. name by name. their landing done. Juan and Johnson join'd a certain corps. Which really pour'd as if all hell were raining Instead of heaven. For fifty thousand heroes. Though all deserving equally to turn A couplet.Who landed lower down.Thrice happy he whose name has been well spelt In the despatch: I knew a man whose loss Was printed Grove. Cheerful as children climb the breasts of mothers. that were red Vesuvius loaded. But fighting thoughtlessly enough to win. glowing. A thing which victory by no means boded To gentlemen engaged in the assault: Hounds. But here I leave the general concern.sometimes gaining A yard or two of ground. although his name was Grose. Had set to work as briskly as their brothers: Being grenadiers. And fought away with might and main. At other times. as if upon parade. Of officers a third fell on the spot. sprawling in his gore. Perhaps might make him shiver. or wheresoe'er they felt Their clay for the last time their souls encumber. they mounted one by one. are at fault. or an elegy to claim. fields. slashing. But on they march'd. Would form a lengthy lexicon of glory. they stumbled backwards o'er A wounded comrade. sweating. it could not more have goaded. when the huntsman tumbles. To track our hero on his path of fame: He must his laurels separately earn. O'er the entrenchment and the palisade. And still less guessing where they might be going. Which stiffen'd heaven) as if he wish'd for day. for so hot The fire was. a much longer story: And therefore we must give the greater number To the Gazette. dead bodies trampling o'er.

a circumstance which has confounded Caesar himself. who. and not national). for. which oft divides Warrior from warrior in their grim career.if it be so pavedMust not have latterly been quite worn out.' A thing of impulse and a child of song. Or the sensation (if that phrase seem wrong).' which form all mankind's trump card. Not by the numbers good intent hath saved. Like chastest wives from constant husbands' sides Just at the close of the first bridal year. Now swimming in the sentiment of joy. When. Roman. if he must needs destroy. it was with what we call 'the best Intentions. like a pad. and friends retiring. and that kind of pleasure. Was on a sudden rather puzzled here. or Runic. By one of those odd turns of Fortune's tides. after a good deal of heavy firing.But Juan was quite 'a broth of a boy.it might Be that the greater part were kill'd or wounded. And fight like fiends for pay or politics. hero. He found himself alone. or it may be Punic (The antiquarians who can settle time. But by the mass who go below without Those ancient good intentions. Swear that Pat's language sprung from the same clime With Hannibal. lawyer. 'T is pity 'that such meaning should pave hell. And that the rest had faced unto the right About. Juan. Which settles all things. which so much abounded . harlot. But what if he had? There have been and are heroes who begun With something not much better.' I almost lately have begun to doubt Whether hell's pavement. And afterward. when people are in quest Of their designs. In such good company as always throng To battles. by saying they meant well.ward Off each attack. in her sublime Old Erse or Irish. or as bad: Frederic the Great from Molwitz deign'd to run. sieges. For the first and last time. or bride. Or hawk. by some strange chance. I don't know how the thing occurr'd. in the very sight Of his whole army. He was what Erin calls. No less delighted to employ his leisure. which once shaved And smooth'd the brimstone of that street of hell Which bears the greatest likeness to Pall Mall. But always without malice: if he warr'd Or loved. Greek.Indeed he could not. The statesman. and wears the Tyrian tunic Of Dido's alphabet. most mortals after one Warm bout are broken into their new tricks. and this is rational As any other notion. To be produced when brought up to the test.

it came to pass he Fell in with what was late the second column. and took his place with solemn Air 'midst the rest. Perceiving then no more the commandant Of his own corps.where he knew not. nor greatly cared. like an ass. Who had 'retreated. to add his own slight arm and forces To corps. And the loud cannon peal'd his hoarsest strains. what was stranger. And. who had no shield to snatch. Friar Bacon! And as he rush'd along. He rush'd. So Juan. flashing forward. Nor care a pinch of snuff about his corps):Perceiving nor commander nor commanded. following honour and his nose. as is a bulky volume Into an elegant extract (much less massy) Of heroism. like an as (Start not.' as the phrase is when Men run away much rather than go through Destruction's jaws into the devil's den. but a fine young lad.' or as sailors stranded Unto the nearest hut themselves betake. which had Quite disappear'd. He knew not where he was. but we at least may grant It was not marvellous that a mere lad. the greater part of which were corses. kind reader. and was No Caesar. and his veins Fill'd as with lightning. a fire enough to blind Those who dislike to look upon a fray. he went upon his way. since great Homer thought This simile enough for Ajax. as is the case with lively brains. to try if he could find A path. as perhaps he ought For a much longer time. to make His way to. then. And rally back his Romans to the field. never look'd behind. But seeing. should look on before.single handed. busy. like the day Over the hills. Juan Perhaps may find it better than a new one)Then. And where the hottest fire was seen and heard.the gods know howl (I can't Account for every thing which may look bad In history. Rush'd where the thickest fire announced most foes. He stumbled on. Stopp'd for a minute. For he was dizzy. who fought He knew not why. Just at this crisis up came Johnson too. like a young heir. Juan. nor even the corps. And left at large. who kept their valiant faces And levell'd weapons still against the glacis. was obliged to snatch a shield.In courage. As travellers follow over bog and brake An 'ignis fatuus. . arriving at this pass.for his spirit shared The hour. while earth and air were sadly shaken By thy humane discovery. Under the orders of the General Lascy. In search of glory. But now reduced.

long ere they will leave their home. when all his corps were dead or dying. they came Unto his call. and.for there was not In this extensive city. what 's strange. hue. To Jack howe'er this gave but slight concern: His soul (like galvanism upon the dead) Acted upon the living as on wire. which like wind Trouble heroic stomachs. Egad! they found the second time what they The first time thought quite terrible enough . as we said. Rampart.Johnson retired a little. like innocence relying On its own strength.' to whom you may exclaim. battery. which indues Its votaries. underneath the sun soon We shall not see his likeness: he could kill his Man quite as quietly as blows the monsoon Her steady breath (which some months the same still is): Seldom he varied feature. Which rain'd from bastion. But Johnson only ran off. Except Don Juan. or muscle. just to rally Those who catch cold in 'shadows of Death's valley. a mere novice. Though their lids so Oft are soon closed. But when they light upon immediate death. a single spot Which did not combat like the devil. when he ran away. And therefore. to return With many other warriors. And that odd impulse. parapet.But Johnson was a clever fellow.' And never ran away. house. Johnson. or shame At shrinking from a bullet or a bomb. By Jove! he was a noble fellow. Says Hotspur. which in wars or creeds Makes men.. than Ajax or Achilles. And though his name. all scatter'd By the resistance of the chase they batter'd. Sounds less harmonious. Which Hamlet tells us is a pass of dread. Retire a little. all heroes are not blind. except when running Was nothing but a valorous kind of cunning. Their reasons were uncertainty. wall. casement. who Knew when and how 'to cut and come again. And could be very busy without bustle. follow him who leads. He found a number of Chasseurs. a little shelter'd from the shot. And led them back into the heaviest fire. he did so Upon reflection. merely to take breath. unlike 'the spirits from The vasty deep. Unto that rather somewhat misty bourn. with careless nerves and thews. like cattle. whose More virgin valour never dreamt of flying From ignorance of danger. And so. And these he call'd on. knowing that behind He would find others who would fain be rid so Of idle apprehensions.' And there. sore beset By Christian soldiery. as yet.

a hell come. But those who scaled. then five. like pitch or rosin.. whereon you could contrive To march. And that which farther aided them to strive Was. the Fate who levels Towns. malgre all which people say Of glory. amidst these sulphury revels. or corn below the sickle. for it was now All neck or nothing. and a dozen. six. and others know. fired away like devils. The Turkish batteries thrash'd them like a flail.To fly from. nations. Who thus could form a line and fight again. First one or two. As say that Wellington at Waterloo Was beaten. That Johnson and some few who had not scamper'd. The gentlemen that were the first to show Their martial faces on the parapet.though the Prussians say so too. found out that their advance Was favour'd by an accident or blunder: The Greek or Turkish Cohorn's ignorance Had palisado'd in a way you 'd wonder To see in forts of Netherlands or France (Though these to our Gibraltar must knock under)Right in the middle of the parapet Just named.I will not say the first. Which made some think. before their guns were cock'd. Proving that trite old truth. as gales sweep foam away. Which scarcely rose much higher than grass blades. Reach'd the interior talus of the rampart. these palisades were primly set: So that on either side some nine or ten Paces were left. At least to all those who were left alive. behind the traverses and flanks Of the next bastion. Among the first. as well 's below. worlds. and all that immortal stuff Which fills a regiment (besides their pay. For such precedence upon such occasions Will oftentimes make deadly quarrels burst Out between friends as well as allied nations: The Briton must be bold who really durst Put to such trial John Bull's partial patience. Flame was shower'd forth above. That daily shilling which makes warriors tough)They found on their return the self-same welcome. Heaven knows how. a great convenience to our men. that they could kick down the palisades. Grass before scythes. in her revolving pranks. The Turks. as. who were knock'd Upon the head. Or those who thought it brave to wait as yet. They fell as thick as harvests beneath hail. whole ranks: However. that life 's as frail As any other boon for which men stickle. Came mounting quickly up. into a sad pickle Putting the very bravest. Or a good boxer. So that you scarce could say who best had chosen. So order'd it.- . And swept.

which so pierces through and through one. hurried by the time and place.'.I say not the first. as if nursed Amidst such scenes.and the mob At last fall sick of imitating Job. or wind. Or near relations. while they had charms. Dash'd on like a spurr'd blood-horse in a race. where the existence Of Britain's youth depends upon their weight.who upon woman's breast.. our little friend Don Juan Walk'd o'er the walls of Ismail.'t will come again..although a generous creature. Pervaded him. and I should hope to most. To him it was Elysium to be there. felt like a child. The thirst Of glory. As warm in heart as feminine in feature. also to receive his pensions. Which are the heaviest that our history mentions. So was his blood stirr'd while he found resistance.though this was quite a new one To him. and I would fain say 'fie on 't. as all men hate . And God knows who besides in 'au' and 'ow. Bulow. But never mind. But to continue:. Or double post and rail. And he could even withstand that awkward test Which Rousseau points out to the dubious fair. Like David. But of the first. who sings The people by and by will be the stronger: The veriest jade will wince whose harness wrings So much into the raw as quite to wrong her Beyond the rules of posting. I rather doubt. As is the hunter's at the five-bar gate. 'Observe your lover when he leaves your arms.' But Juan never left them. And here he was. or wave.' If I had not perceived that revolution Alone can save the earth from hell's pollution. which tame The loftiest. who are much the same. flings smooth pebbles 'gainst a giant. Even from a child.'God save the king!' and kings! For if he don't.And that if Blucher. howe'er The man in all the rest might be confest. I doubt if men will longerI think I hear a little bird.' Had not come up in time to cast an awe Into the hearts of those who fought till now As tigers combat with an empty craw. and then. Unless compell'd by fate. But here he was!. At first it grumbles. Then comes 'the tug of war. At last it takes to weapons such as men Snatch when despair makes human hearts less pliant.where each tie that can bind Humanity must yield to steel and flame: And he whose very body was all mind. Gneisenau. The lightest being the safest: at a distance He hated cruelty. Flung here by fate or circumstance. then it swears. The Duke of Wellington had ceased to show His orders.

and besides. who had been hard press'd. knew As much of German as of Sanscrit. Crime came not near him. For killing nothing but a bear or buck. and death be more . until heated. The General Lascy. The General Boon. but a young Livonian. Stars. There cannot be much conversation there. and sounds of horror chime In like church-bells. every sin Contrived to get itself comprised within it. Who passes for in life and death most lucky. yell. who was nearest him.Blood. with sigh. Not reckoning him to be a 'base Bezonian' (As Pistol calls it). Babylon. pass'd in a little minute. The very cannon. But in the same small minute. when I see cast down Rome. when many a shriek Rings o'er the dialogue. and many a crime Is perpetrated ere a word can break Upon the ear. He recognised an officer of rank. Grew dumb. and hopes to take the city soon. Short speeches pass between two men who speak No common language. black and blue.' So Cowper says. vigorous. groan. And pondering on the present and the past. saving Sylla the man-slayer. Health shrank not from him. Addressing him in tones which seem'd to thank. address'd His thanks. Was happiest amongst mortals anywhere.and I begin to be Of his opinion. To deem the woods shall be our home at last Of all men.for Her home is in the rarely trodden wild. for you might almost hear a linnet. prayer. and a bloody sword in hand. Juan. Tyre. Carthage. harmless days Of his old age in wilds of deepest maze. For seeing one with ribands.and even then his own At times would curdle o'er some heavy groan. and In answer made an inclination to The general who held him in command. Oh eternity!'God made the country and man made the town. back-woodsman of Kentucky. in time Of war and taking towns. Seeing arrive an aid so opportune As were some hundred youngsters all abreast. Of the great names which in our faces stare. howl. As soon as thunder. medals. and many never known. he Enjoy'd the lonely. deafen'd by the din. 'midst the general noise Of human nature's agonising voice! The town was enter'd. to whom he spoke in German. Who came as if just dropp'd down from the moon. And therefore all we have related in Two long octaves. Nineveh. All walls men know. Where if men seek her not.she is not the child Of solitude. To Juan.

An active hermit. The present case in point I Cite is. the despot's desolation. or the man of Ross run wild. as beguiled By habit to what their own hearts abhorIn cities caged.then another. that Boon lived hunting up to ninety. Though very true. The scenes like Catherine's boudoir at threescore. When they built up unto his darling trees.He moved some hundred miles off. With the free foresters divide no spoil. And fresh as is a torrent or a tree. left behind a name For which men vainly decimate the throng. He show'd himself as kind as mortal can. pestilence. and their rifles. The lust which stings. And tall. The free-born forest found and kept them free. The millions slain by soldiers for their ration. But where he met the individual man. So much for Nature:. not savage. Because their thoughts had never been the prey Of care or gain: the green woods were their portions. And cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil. And what 's still stranger. Which hate nor envy e'er could tinge with wrong. The kingly scourge. 'T is true he shrank from men even of his nation. The inconvenience of civilisation Is. Beyond the dwarfing city's pale abortions. Civilisation! And the sweet consequence of large society. not sullen. but of that good fame. serene. Nor sword nor sorrow yet had left a trace On her unwrinkled brow. and strong. . Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers. and swift of foot were they. The town was enter'd: first one column made Its sanguinary way good. were the solitudes Of this unsighing people of the woods. No sinking spirits told them they grew grey. that you neither can be pleased nor please. War. No fashion made them apes of her distortions. He was not all alone: around him grew A sylvan tribe of children of the chase. Whose young. for a station Where there were fewer houses and more ease. Corruption could not make their hearts her soil. Serene. Not only famous. Simple they were.by way of variety. Motion was in their days. forgive them.Their choice than life. the antipodes of shame. rest in their slumbers. even in age the child Of Nature. unwaken'd world was ever new. With Ismail's storm to soften it the more. nor could you view A frown on Nature's or on human face. the splendour which encumbers. Now back to thy great joys. were not yet used for trifles. the lust of notoriety. Without which glory 's but a tavern songSimple.

if so you please..The great and gay Koutousow might have lain Where three parts of his column yet remain. and death. they blunder'dThe Turks at first pretended to have scamper'd. where foot by foot The madden'd Turks their city still dispute. he who afterward beat back (With some assistance from the frost and snow) Napoleon on his bold and bloody track. and babe and mother With distant shrieks were heard Heaven to upbraid: Still closer sulphury clouds began to smother The breath of morn and man. Though life. Statistics.The reeking bayonet and the flashing blade Clash'd 'gainst the scimitar. The Kozacks. for the Moslem men Threw them all down into the ditch again. Koutousow. And had it not been for some stray troops landing They knew not where. and victory were at stake. From whence they sallied on those Christian scorners. where they lost their understanding. politics. Follow'd in haste by various grenadiers. Sliding knee-deep in lately frozen mud.' to the groups Of baffled heroes. Whose blood the puddle greatly did enrich. being carried by the stream To some spot. and geography)Having been used to serve on horses' backs. who stood shyly near. or. though the Turkish batteries thunder'd Upon them. and could crack His jest alike in face of friend or foe. He was a jolly fellow. And no great dilettanti in topography Of fortresses. as daybreak was expanding. And naturally thought they could have plunder'd The city. That which a portal to their eyes did seem. but fighting where it pleases Their chiefs to order. And wander'd up and down as in a dream. After the taking of the 'Cavalier. ne'ertheless had reach'd the rampart. But here it seem'd his jokes had ceased to take: For having thrown himself into a ditch. Open'd the gate call'd 'Kilia. Only to draw them 'twixt two bastion corners. It happen'd was himself beat back just now. Now thaw'd into a marsh of human blood. But as it happens to brave men. tactics. He climb'd to where the parapet appears. And scrambling round the rampart. Their column. But there his project reach'd its utmost pitch ('Mongst other deaths the General Ribaupierre's Was much regretted). without being farther hamper'd. So that I do not grossly err in facts. . these same troops. Cossacques (I don't much pique myself upon orthography. Until they reach'd.' Just as Koutousow's most 'forlorn' of 'hopes' Took like chameleons some slight tinge of fear.were all cut to pieces.

Leaving as ladders their heap'd carcasses. who had fallen some time Before. was also dish'd: For all the answer to his proposition Was from a pistol-shot that laid him dead.a taking Fatal to bishops as to soldiers. And sixteen bayonets pierced the Seraskier.. The walls were won.only part by partAnd death is drunk with gore: there 's not a street Where fights not to the last some desperate heart For those for whom it soon shall cease to beat. Without resistance. And found their lives were let at a short leaseBut perish'd without shivering or shaking. You should but give few cartridges to such Troops as are meant to march with greatest glory on: When matters must be carried by the touch Of the bright bayonet. Or at least suited not this valiant Tartar. deserving well his country's tears. Among the foremost. being badly seconded just then) Was made at length with those who dared to climb The death-disgorging rampart once again. For one would not retreat. An English naval officer. with a hankering for existence. O'er which Lieutenant-Colonel Yesouskoi March'd with the brave battalion of Polouzki:This valiant man kill'd all the Turks he met. They sometimes. and some volunteers. but 't was an even bet Which of the armies would have cause to mourn: 'T was blow for blow. The city 's taken. who would not yet. Another column also suffer'd much:And here we may remark with the historian. But could not eat them. And though the Turk's resistance was sublime. without more intermission. Keep merely firing at a foolish distance. see their city burn. A junction of the General Meknop's men (Without the General. and they all should hurry on. He died. which the Seraskier Defended at a price extremely dear. They took the bastion.these Cossacques were all cut off as day was breaking. Juan and Johnson. disputing inch by inch. A word which little suits with Seraskiers.Then being taken by the tail. being in his turn Slain by some Mussulmans. nor t' other flinch. who wish'd To make him prisoner. Began to lay about with steel and leadThe pious metals most in requisition On such occasions: not a single head Was spared. A savage sort of military martyr.three thousand Moslems perish'd here. Here War forgot his own destructive art In more destroying Nature. and the heat . On which the rest. offer'd him good quarter.

but 't is not My cue for any time to be terrific: For checker'd as is seen our human lot With good. But then the fact 's a fact. For the Turk's teeth stuck faster than a skewer. for there is little art In leaving verse more free from the restriction Of truth than prose.No! There 's not a Moslem that hath yielded sword: The blood may gush out. nor relinquish'd it Even with his life. who had felt the foot Of a foe o'er him. Achilles). but not render'd!. and bled. 't is pretty sure The Russian officer for life was lamed. And that outrageous appetite for lies Which Satan angles with for souls. As the year closing whirls the scarlet leaves When the stripp'd forest bows to the bleak air. A Russian officer. It is an awful topic. and swore. and perhaps was to be blamed More than the head of the inveterate foe. But still it falls in vast and awful splinters. And human lives are lavish'd everywhere. alike prolific . However this may be. felt his heel Seized fast. in martial tread Over a heap of bodies.and 't is the part Of a true poet to escape from fiction Whene'er he can. like the Nile's sun-sodden slime. snatch'd at it. and bit The very tendon which is most acute (That which some ancient Muse or modern wit Named after thee. and left bare. unless to suit the mart For what is sometimes called poetic diction. Shorn of its best and loveliest. Which was cut off. As oaks blown down with all their thousand winters. and scarce even then let go. and bad. As do the subtle snakes described of old.Of carnage. and writhed. And left him 'midst the invalid and maim'd: The regimental surgeon could not cure His patient. as the Danube's flow Rolls by the city wall. but deed nor word Acknowledge aught of dread of death or foe: In vain the yell of victory is roar'd By the advancing Muscovite. and worse.the groan Of the last foe is echoed by his own. like flies. The bayonet pierces and the sabre cleaves.for (but they lie) 't is said To the live leg still clung the sever'd head. Engender'd monstrous shapes of every crime. And groans. and thus the peopled city grieves. And howl'd for help as wolves do for a mealThe teeth still kept their gratifying hold. and quite through 't He made the teeth meet. A dying Moslem. The city 's taken. as if 't were by the serpent's head Whose fangs Eve taught her human seed to feel: In vain he kick'd.

while waxing colder As he turn'd o'er each pale and gory cheek. she open'd her large eyes. A female child of ten years tried to stoop And hide her little palpitating breast Amidst the bodies lull'd in bloody rest.Without. A little scorch'd at present with the blaze Of conquest and its consequences. while their eyes were fix'd Upon each other.. And she was chill as they. The rudest brute that roams Siberia's wild Has feelings pure and polish'd as a gem. and split the other's shoulder. And may serve therefore to bedew these rhymes. I shall not say exactly what he said. I sketch your world exactly as it goes. and shriek Their baffled rage and pain. Because it might not solace 'ears polite. offence to friends or foes. made the good heart droop And shudder. As the last link with all she had held dear. Whence her fair hair rose twining with affright. The readiest way of reasoning with Cossacques. with dilated glance. Don Juan raised his little captive from The heap a moment more had made her tomb.' But what he did. And gazed on Juan with a wild surprise.while. And whom for this at last must we condemn? Their natures? or their sovereigns. and left its crimson trace. as beautiful as May. Pharisaic times. For the same blow which laid her mother here Had scarr'd her brow. and on her face A slender streak of blood announced how near Her fate had been to that of all her race. And one good action in the midst of crimes Is 'quite refreshing. Just at this instant. which Make epic poesy so rare and rich. a yet warm group Of murder'd women. to quote Too much of one sort would be soporific. . who employ All arts to teach their subjects to destroy? Their sabres glitter'd o'er her little head. was to lay on their backs. Her hidden face was plunged amidst the dead: When Juan caught a glimpse of this sad sight. Upon a taken bastion.' in the affected phrase Of these ambrosial. With all their pretty milk-and-water ways. But else unhurt. where there lay Thousands of slaughter'd men. One's hip he slash'd. And drove them with their brutal yells to seek If there might be chirurgeons who could solder The wounds they richly merited. the wolf is mild.Of melancholy merriment. or with. Two villainous Cossacques pursued the child With flashing eyes and weapons: match'd with them.The bear is civilised. who had found their way To this vain refuge.

Poor thing! what 's to be done? I 'm puzzled quite.'.no excuse Will serve when there is plunder in a city. and dread of some mischance Unto his protege. like a vineyard. mix'd With joy to save. 'The Seraskier is knock'd upon the head. and commonplace On great occasions. we 've no time to lose. 'Then up with me!'. They should at least have fifty rubles round.and twitch'd his sleeve And black silk neckcloth.' Johnson said: 'Juan. And I am with you. with hundreds at his back. who is parentless. yet radiant face.' For that were vulgar.' Quoth Johnson: 'Neither will I quite ensure.' Juan replied: 'At least I will endure Whate'er is to be borne. and I 'll bet Moscow to a dollar That you and I will win St. but point me out some nook Of safety.In Juan's look. A pure. I 'll not quit her till she seems secure Of present life a good deal more than we. But at the least you may die gloriously.and replied.'Juan! Juan! On. And grape in volleys. Exclaiming.must not leave Her life to chance. and therefore mine. By God! we 'll be too late for the first cut. pale. But the stone bastion still remains. 'You 're right. Pick'd out amongst his followers with some skill Such as he thought the least given up to prey. Smoking his pipe quite calmly 'midst the din Of our artillery and his own: 't is said Our kill'd. wherein The old Pacha sits among some hundreds dead. glared as from a trance.but hark! now choose Between your fame and feelings. until Johnson. pain.. But if she were deliver'd safe and sound. George's collar. And swearing if the infant came to ill That they should all be shot on the next day. while hers. where she less may shrink and grieve.Up came John Johnson (I will not say 'Jack.' But Juan was immovable. transparent.But Juan answer'd. The child 's a pretty child. scatters. transfix'd With infant terrors. but. who really loved him in his way. but still it batters.Whereon Johnson took A glance around. . Like to a lighted alabaster vase. boy! brace Your arm. already piled up to the chin.Hark! how the roar increases!.' Said Juan: 'Whatsoever is to be Done. pleasure. 'Look Upon this child. such as an attack On cities.I should be loth to march without you. pride and pity. Lie round the battery. fear. cold.but not resign This child.and shrugg'd. as hath been the present case): Up Johnson came.a very prettyI never saw such eyes. hope.I saved her.

plain. and replied To all the propositions of surrender By mowing Christians down on every side. whereupon they fell. The first with sighs. temperate man. who Expended all their Eastern phraseology In begging him. A thing which happens everywhere each dayNo hero trusteth wholly to half pay. And all around were grown exceeding wroth At such a pertinacious infidel. the second with an oath.A mixture of wild beasts and demigods Are they. and such is man! At least nine tenths of what we call so. Compassion breathes along the savage mind.And all allowances besides of plunder In fair proportion with their comrades. As being a virtue. But to our subject: a brave Tartar khanOr 'sultan. Which thinn'd at every step their ranks of men: And yet the rest rush'd eagerly. When they behold the brave oppress'd with odds. As obstinate as Swedish Charles at Bender. old. though but slightly. he had wounded. for God's sake. or Jove's son? Neither. Whereon the Russian pathos grew less tender. Are touch'd with a desire to shield and save. just to show So much less fight as might form an apology For them in saving such a desperate foeHe hew'd away. To take him was the point. like terrestrial patience..now furious as the sweeping wave.somehow would not yield at all: But flank'd by five brave sons (such is polygamy.then Juan consented to march on through thunder. And such is victory. as babies beat their nurses.. pell-mell.no wonder. . Now moved with pity: even as sometimes nods The rugged tree unto the summer wind. For they were heated by the hope of gain. like doctors of theology When they dispute with sceptics. And spite of Johnson and of Juan. Peleus'. Who fought with his five children in the van. both Juan and Johnson. Upon his angry sultanship. His five brave boys no less the foe defied.God May have another name for half we scan As human beings. But he would not be taken. He never would believe the city won While courage clung but to a single twig.Am I Describing Priam's. or his ways are odd.but a good. and with curses Struck at his friends.. The truly brave. That she spawns warriors by the score. where none Are prosecuted for that false crime bigamy).' as the author (to whose nod In prose I bend my humble verse) doth call This chieftain. Nay. Apt to wear out on trifling provocations.

like all other pretty creatures. You 'll find ten thousand handsome coxcombs bloody. And thus your houri (it may be) disputes Of these brief blossoms the immediate fruits. and the fourth. That when the very lance was in his heart. by dint of features. Those houris. descried In one voluptuous blaze. angels. For one rough. And bright eternity without disguise On his soul. His third was sabred. Before the bridal hours have danced their measure And the sad. yet died all game and bottom. To save a sire who blush'd that he begot him.Whereas. who.And pour'd upon him and his sons like rain.and then he died. The eldest was a true and tameless Tartar. most cherish'd Of all the five. and can do no less. on bayonets met his lot. weather-beaten. howe'er our better faith derides. by a Christian mother nourish'd. Who make the beds of those who won't take quarter On earth. Or dull repentance hath had dreary leisure To wish him back a bachelor now and then. As great a scorner of the Nazarene As ever Mahomet pick'd out for a martyr. The good old khan. veteran body. But with a heavenly rapture on his face. Thought not upon the charms of four young brides. and what not. But doubtless they prefer a fine young man To tough old heroes. second moon grows dim again. there must at least be six or seven. And that 's the cause no doubt why. nor pretend to guess. and when once seen. if we scan A field of battle's ghastly wilderness. Which they resisted like a sandy plain That drinks and still is dry. Who only saw the black-eyed girls in green. So fully flash'd the phantom on his eyes. who long had ceased to see Houris. The fifth. Do just whate'er they please. houris. But bravely rush'd on his first heavenly night. At last they perish'dHis second son was levell'd by a shot. like a ceaseless sunrise. if all be true we hear of heaven And hell.. ill-used. As though there were one heaven and none besides. Thus the young khan. Your houris also have a natural pleasure In lopping off your lately married men. He shouted 'Allah!' and saw Paradise With all its veil of mystery drawn apart. In short. These black-eyed virgins make the Moslems fight. or aught except his florid race Who grew like cedars round him gloriously- . Because deform'd. dart:With prophets. saints. Had been neglected. with houris in his sight. in Paradise. And what they pleased to do with the young khan In heaven I know not.

But the stone bastion still kept up its fire. As he look'd down upon his children gone. . The town was taken. who beheld him drop his point.yet looking With martial stoicism. Ismail 's no more! The crescent's silver bow Sunk. In the mean time. And throwing back a dim look on his sons. in case he bade them not 'aroynt!' As he before had done. But red with no redeeming gore: the glow Of burning streets. As carelessly as hurls the moth her wing Against the light wherein she dies: he clung Closer. Where the chief pacha calmly held his post: Some twenty times he made the Russ retire. the sea of slaughter. Touch'd by the heroism of him they slew. all red with strife. which he became like a fell'd tree. Was imaged back in blood. At length he condescended to inquire If yet the city's rest were won or lost. And shook (till now unshaken) like a reed.. The soldiers. that all the deadlier they might wring. Were melted for a moment: though no tear Flow'd from their bloodshot eyes. And being told the latter.he was alone But 't was a transient tremor. Stopp'd as if once more willing to concede Quarter. from the fight.whether he might yield Himself or bastion. 'T is strange enough. All that the mind would shrink from of excesses.When he beheld his latest hero grace The earth. and the crimson cross glared o'er the field. tough soldiers. As if he had three lives. Paused for a moment. cross-legg'd.. he puff'd his pipe's ambrosial gales. And baffled the assaults of all their host.the rough. as well as tails. sent a bey To answer Ribas' summons to give way. like moonlight on the water. And lay before them with his children near. but gently stroking His beard. and cast A glance on that slain son. Unto the bayonets which had pierced his young. They honour'd such determined scorn of life. when this old man was pierced through. with great sang-froid. All that the body perpetrates of bad. little matter'd now: His stubborn valour was no future shield. his first and last. He did not heed Their pause nor signs: his heart was out of joint. Among the scorching ruins he sat smoking Tobacco on a little carpet. In one wide wound pour'd forth his soul at once.though done with life.Troy Saw nothing like the scene around:.with a spring Upon the Russian steel his breast he flung. nought seem'd to annoy His stern philosophy. who Spared neither sex nor age in their career Of carnage. And felt.

but fainter were the thunders grown: Of forty thousand who had mann'd the wall. Had made them chaste. or as sad As hell. Castlereagh. or an aged. and duties grew? Cockneys of London! Muscadins of Paris! Just ponder what a pious pastime war is.. and Debt. or as rhymes. Much did they slay. and ties. Some hundreds breathed. hear. and to your harvests cling.they ravish'd very little. A subject of sublimest exultationBear it. don't forget Such doom may be your own in aftertimes. And redly ran his blushing waters down. . and their long station In winter's depth. All that the devil would do if run stark mad. But still there is unto a patriot nation. helpless man or twoWhat 's this in one annihilated city. and no less Might here and there occur some violation In the other line. Gaunt famine never shall approach the throneThough Ireland starve. If here and there some transient trait of pity Was shown. ye Muses. Are hints as good as sermons.mere mortals who their power abuseWas here (as heretofore and since) let loose. Read your own hearts and Ireland's present story.but not to such excess As when the French. All by which hell is peopled. so shall be my phrasePerhaps the season's chill.the rest were silent all! In one thing ne'ertheless 't is fit to praise The Russian army upon this occasion.hapless town! Far flash'd her burning towers o'er Danube's stream. save some twenty score.All that we read. dream. But let me put an end unto my theme: There was an end of Ismail. of man's distresses. Desolation. Then feed her famine fat with Wellesley's glory. And therefore worthy of commemoration: The topic 's tender. more plunder. great George weighs twenty stone. Meantime the Taxes. and some more noble heart broke through Its bloody bond. Where thousand loves. Take towns by storm: no causes can I guess.. Except cold weather and commiseration. that dissipated nation. Think how the joys of reading a Gazette Are purchased by all agonies and crimes: Or if these do not move you. A virtue much in fashion now-a-days. Strip your green fields. on your brightest wing! Howe'er the mighty locust. Which loves so well its country and its king. Were almost as much virgins as before. and saved perhaps some pretty Child. or want of rest and victual. But all the ladies. The horrid war-whoop and the shriller scream Rose still. All that defies the worst which pen expresses.

But ye. Duly accompanied by shrieks and groans. but 't is for you: And as. like Nero. I thought that I would pen you 'em. too. Never let it Be said that we still truckle unto thrones. Severe. You hardly will believe such things were true As now occur. Mene. or of tasteIndeed the smoke was such they scarce could mark Their friends from foes. though rarely. There was small leisure for superfluous sin. Tekel. Which show'd a want of lanterns. but only fate. sublime. Since 'Mene.I can only hope they did.but this Russ so witty Could rhyme. the prophet wrote no farce on The fate of nations.' and thought it good (Since it was not their fault. But whether they escaped or no. and set it. and the cannon's roar was scarce allay'd. And here exactly follows what he said:'Glory to God and to the Empress!' (Powers Eternal! such names mingled!) 'Ismail 's ours. To bear these crosses) for each waning prude To make a Roman sort of Sabine wedding. Were all deflower'd by different grenadiers. when there is a spark Of light to save the venerably chaste: But six old damsels.a match For Timour or for Zinghis in his trade. Suwarrow now was conqueror. So that some disappointment there ensued To those who had felt the inconvenient state Of 'single blessedness. Without the expense and the suspense of bedding. I trust. But may their very memory perish too!Yet if perchance remember'd. With bloody hands he wrote his first despatch. in the great joy of your millennium.our children's children! think how we Show'd what things were before the world was free! That hour is not for us.' Methinks these are the most tremendous words.' and 'Upharsin.Some odd mistakes. if possible. lies hid In darkness.. beneath his eyes. But on the whole their continence was great. Heaven help me! I 'm but little of a parson: What Daniel read was short-hand of the Lord's. the stones To rise against earth's tyrants.' Which hands or pens have ever traced of swords. like thatch Blazed. but none forget itFor I will teach.. He wrote this Polar melody. happen'd in the dark. o'er a burning city.besides such things from haste Occur. Which few will sing. While mosques and streets. each of seventy years. Some voices of the buxom middle-aged Were also heard to wonder in the din (Widows of forty were these birds long caged) 'Wherefore the ravishing did not begin!' But while the thirst for gore and plunder raged. still disdain you 'em .

But Phoebus lends me now and then a string. France could not even conquer your great name. Carelessly I sing. The Moslem orphan went with her protector.. Reader! I have kept my word. like the sad family of Hector. helpless. For she was homeless. 'And wonder what old world such things could see. than his new order of St. but not with gore. houseless. tempest. As the real purpose of a pyramid. For I have drawn much less with a long bow Than my forerunners. You have now Had sketches of love. warAll very accurate. and carp. Wellington! (or 'Villainton'. if at all: But now I choose to break off in the middle. With which I still can harp.More than you scorn the savages of yore. let it be As we now gaze upon the mammoth's bones. Who painted their bare limbs. You have obtain'd great pensions and much praise: Glory like yours should any dare gainsay.and I think he was more glad in her Safety.. Or hieroglyphics on Egyptian stones. But punn'd it down to this facetious phraseBeating or beaten she will laugh the same). all Her friends. Humanity would rise. when they have time to pause From their ferocities produced by vanity. I by and by may tell you. you must allow. OH. and thunder 'Nay!' I don't think that you used Kinnaird quite well . travel.and Juan wept. His little captive gain'd him some applause For saving her amidst the wild insanity Of carnage. because He had behaved with courage and humanityWhich last men like. which he kept. Had perish'd in the field or by the wall: Her very place of birth was but a spectre Of what it had been.at least so far As the first Canto promised. And when you hear historians talk of thrones. This special honour was conferr'd. And made a vow to shield her. Worn out with battering Ismail's stubborn wall.for Fame Sounds the heroic syllables both ways. and fiddle. The pleasant riddles of futurityGuessing at what shall happily be hid. While Juan is sent off with the despatch. And epic. there the Muezzin's call To prayer was heard no more!. if plain truth should prove no bar. What farther hath befallen or may befall The hero of this grand poetic riddle. And those that sate upon them. Vladimir. CANTO_THE_NINTH CANTO THE NINTH. For which all Petersburgh is on the watch.

but has not fed so well of late. You need not take them under your direction. At last may get a little tired of thunder. he May like being praised for every lucky blunder. Great men have always scorn'd great recompenses: Epaminondas saved his Thebes. But pray give back a little to the nation.in fact. Though Britain owes (and pays you too) so much. Such tales being for the tea-hours of some tabby. If you have acted once a generous part. 't was shabby. Save you and yours. how strongly you restore.a man so great as You. And as a high-soul'd minister of state is . Call'd 'Saviour of the Nations'. too. have gain'd by Waterloo? I am no flatterer. Unless her cause by right be sanctified. and not misapplied: War 's a brain-spattering. Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more: You have repair'd Legitimacy's crutch.'t is no great wonder. too. And send the sentinel before your gate A slice or two from your luxurious meals: He fought. Except the all-cloudless glory (which few men's is To free his country: Pitt too had his pride.you 've supp'd full of flattery: They say you like it too. But though your years as man tend fast to zero. will decide. And I shall be delighted to learn who. The world. windpipe-slitting art. A prop not quite so certain as before: The Spanish. With modern history has but small connection: Though as an Irishman you love potatoes. and felt.not yet saved. and the French. And half a million for your Sabine farm Is rather dear!. Have seen. You are 'the best of cut-throats:'. And like some other things won't do to tell Upon your tomb in Westminster's old abbey.still enslaved. I 've done. of Cincinnatus. my lord duke! is far above reflection: The high Roman fashion. not the world's masters. And 'Europe's Liberator'. Not leaving even his funeral expenses: George Washington had thanks and nought beside. He whose whole life has been assault and battery. In fact your grace is still but a young hero.do not start. they say the people feels:There is no doubt that you deserve your ration.In Marinet's affair. and died. And swallowing eulogy much more than satire. Upon the rest 't is not worth while to dwell.I 'm sure I mean no harm. Now go and dine from off the plate Presented by the Prince of the Brazils. And Waterloo has made the world your debtor (I wish your bards would sing it rather better). I don't mean to reflect. The phrase is Shakspeare's. as well as Dutch. Some hunger.

Except Napoleon. which devours Suns as rays. White. or copper. And thus Death laughs. and debts. But still he smiles.. that you will not read in the Gazettes. and whether near or far. or abused it more: You might have freed fallen Europe from the unity Of tyrants. But which 't is time to teach the hireling tribe Who fatten on their country's gore.there is now no fleshy bar So call'd. in a smile to trample Upon the nothings which are daily spent Like bubbles on an ocean much less ample Than the eternal deluge. even though in its sheath: Mark how its lipless mouth grins without breath! Mark how it laughs and scorns at all you are! And yet was what you are: from ear to ear It laughs not.'Oh Ye rigid guts of reapers!' I translate For the great benefit of those who know What indigestion is. and been blest from shore to shore: And now.it is sad merriment. I am neither Alexander nor Hephaestion. and with such example Why should not Life be equally content With his superior. Have left undone the greatest. You did great things.years like hours? 'To be.worlds like atoms.that inward fate Which makes all Styx through one small liver flow. But would much rather have a sound digestion Than Buonaparte's cancer: could I dash on Through fifty victories to shame or fameWithout a stomach what were a good name? 'O dura ilia messorum!'. Never had mortal man such opportunity. But still it is so.look upon This hourly dread of all! whose threaten'd sting Turns life to terror. who just now is much in fashion. the Antic long hath ceased to hear. He strips from man that mantle (far more dear Than even the tailor's). Nor ever had for abstract fame much passion. and. like to a set sun Which still elsewhere may rouse a brighter springDeath laughs at all you weep for:.' Says Shakspeare.what is your fame? Shall the Muse tune it ye? Now. Death laughs. his incarnate skin.Renown'd for ruining Great Britain gratis. To you the unflattering Muse deigns to inscribe Truths. or not to be? that is the question.that the rabble's first vain shouts are o'er? Go! hear it in your famish'd country's cries! Behold the world! and curse your victories! As these new cantos touch on warlike feats.Go ponder o'er the skeleton With which men image out the unknown thing That hides the past world. black. Must be recited. but not being great in mind.without a bribe.and mankind.the dead bones will grin. .

And deem. 'The sparrow's fall Is special providence.that rack for rent. Until I see both sides for once agreeing. I doubt if doubt itself be doubting. of what they mean. For me. mortal man! what is philanthropy? Oh. Which tumbled all mankind into the grave. then. thou too. 'T is time we should proceed with our good poem. is best for moderate bathers. 'To be. ye immortal gods! what is theogony? Oh.Why do they call me misanthrope? Because They hate me. It is a pleasant voyage perhaps to float. And yet I know no more than the mahogany That forms this desk. since Eve's slip and Adam's fall. 'is above allNo more of this. that 's plain As any of Mortality's conditions.For I maintain that it is really good. But what if carrying sail capsize the boat? Your wise men don't know much of navigation. probably it perch'd Upon the tree which Eve so fondly search'd. Like Pyrrho. world! which was and is. what is cosmogony? Some people have accused me of misanthropy. 'But heaven. not I them. for without transformation Men become wolves on any slight occasion. we know not.' as Cassio says.. As also of the first academicians: That all is dubious which man may attain. Oh. who have ne'er Done anything exceedingly unkind. Besides fish. 'Que scais-je?' was the motto of Montaigne. lykanthropy I comprehend. meekest of mankind. I 'll enlist on neither side. or Melancthon. and birds.Ere I decide. Like Moses. the mildest. where one stoops down and gathers Some pretty shell. And swimming long in the abyss of thought Is apt to tire: a calm and shallow station Well nigh the shore.' though how it gave Offence.and here we 'll pause.And (though I could not now and then forbear Following the bent of body or of mind) Have always had a tendency to spare. beasts. So little do we know what we 're about in This world. we are all-seeing: For my part. on a sea of speculation. . or not to be?'.. I sometimes think that life is death. Rather than life a mere affair of breath. because we see. Not only in the body but the proem. Was one of their most favourite positions. But I. I should be glad to know that which is being? 'T is true we speculate both far and wide. There 's no such thing as certainty.let us pray!' We have Souls to save.A peasant's sweat is worth his lord's estate: Let this one toil for bread. He who sleeps best may be the most content.

And without that.. at least in words (and. kind reader. And infidels. I trust. Mind. I know its mighty empire now allures Much flattery. with all who war With Thought. save the Spanish fly and Attic bee. And scent the prey their masters would attack all. being of no party. I do not know. yours) Was left upon his way to the chief city Of the immortal Peter's polish'd boors Who still have shown themselves more brave than witty. Power's base purveyors. are more sincere and hearty Than if I sought to sail before the wind. However.should My chance so happen. and that 's a pity. the poor jackals are less foul (As being the brave lions' keen providers) Than human insects. Don Juan. as will I. till you shall make common cause: None. I shall offend all parties: never mind! My words.. Nor give my voice to slavery's jackal cry.deeds). .I 've heard them in the Ephesian ruins howl By night. Raise but an arm! 't will brush their web away. their poison and their claws Are useless. As is the Christian dogma rather rough.I wish men to be free As much from mobs as kings. it should be no bar To this my plain. there are demagogues enough. That 's an appropriate simile. but much worse than that. As yet are strongly stinging to be free. sworn. It is not that I adulate the people: Without me.but by and by the Truth will show 'em Herself in her sublimest attitude: And till she doth.go on without pause! The web of these tarantulas each day Increases. The consequence is. good people! what I say (Or rather peoples). that jackal. He who has nought to gain can have small art: he Who neither wishes to be bound nor bind. I know not who may conquer: if I could Have such a prescience. who for pickings prowl. catering for spiders. And I will war.and of Thought's foes by far most rude. at least. I deem an absolute autocrat Not a barbarian. For me. Tyrants and sycophants have been and are. And set up in their stead some proper stuff. who had shone in the late slaughter.However little both are understood Just now. as do that mercenary pack all.. Our hero (and.from you as me. May still expatiate freely. downright detestation Of every depotism in every nation. Whether they may sow scepticism to reap hell. I fain must be content To share her beauty and her banishment. to pull down every steeple.even Voltaire's.

roughly treading on the 'courtier's kibes' With clownish heel. And scarce to the Mogul a cup of coffee To soothe his woes withal. Who. newspapers. and has best right To be the first of what we used to call 'Gentlemen farmer'. Fishery and farm. nor admits a barge On her canals. volumes. when a traveller on deep ways is. And 'gentlemen' are in a piteous plight. the sinner! Because he could no more digest his dinner.a race worn out quite. merely served to flatter Fair Catherine's pastime. when we see emperors fall with oats! But Juan turn'd his eyes on the sweet child Whom he had saved from slaughter. Oh! ye great authors luminous. Wherein she liked her own to stand like rocks. or at the least post-chaises Had feathers. in these sad highways left at large To ruts. And orders. unless within Your heart joins chorus. like Nadir Shah.what a trophy Oh! ye who build up monuments. and on all that he had doneAnd wishing that post-horses had the wings Of Pegasus. At least he pays no rent. At every jolt. and flints. And 'farmers' can't raise Ceres from her fall: She fell with Buonaparte. where God takes sea and land. that costive sophy. though deck'd With all the praises ever said or sung: Though hymn'd by every harp. chivalry. is a thing to recollect Far sweeter than the greenest laurels sprung From the manure of human clay. Where blood was talk'd of as we would of water. illumine us! Whether you 're paid by government in bribes. Which on rough roads leaves scarcely a whole bone).What strange thoughts Arise.and they were many. voluminous! Ye twice ten hundred thousand daily scribes! Whose pamphlets. Fame is but a din. after leaving Hindostan a wild.Oh ye! or we! or he! or she! reflect. your popular circulation .still He turn'd his eyes upon his little charge. defiled With gore. both into his own hand. Since lately there have been no rents at all.Was left upon his way with the despatch. and lovely Nature's skill. Who is no paviour. especially if young Or pretty. To prove the public debt is not consuming usOr. As if he wish'd that she should fare less ill Than he. and kings. Pondering on glory. And there in a kibitka he roll'd on (A cursed sort of carriage without springs. That one life saved. was slain.who look'd on the match Between these nations as a main of cocks. And carcasses that lay as thick as thatch O'er silenced cities.

So on I ramble. I left Don Juan with his horses baitingNow we 'll get o'er the ground at a great rate. Although no doubt it was beyond all price. and then back again to chaos. and curl'd. Think if then George the Fourth should be dug up! How the new worldlings of the then new East Will wonder where such animals could sup! (For they themselves will be but of the least: Even worlds miscarry. and this I call Much too poetical: men should know why They write. now and then narrating. ancient strain Of things destroy'd and left in airy doubt: Like to the notions we now entertain Of Titans. And mammoths. And every new creation hath decreased In size. I say.and so am I. and sow. I ne'er decide what I shall say.how. So Cuvier says.Feeds you by printing half the realm's starvation. and grind. Especially of war and taxing.it will one day be found With other relics of 'a former world. and for what end. And deviate into matters rather dry. and turn themselves about.it is time we should narrate. The superstratum which will overlay us. And dig.. Baked. giants. I never know the word which will come next. I quite forget this poem 's merely quizzical. crisp'd. ye great authors!. when they see 'em.to these young people. Now pondering:.' When this world shall be former. and your winged crocodiles.Oh. which have been hurl'd First out of. twisted. And plant.'Apropos des bottes.and then shall come again Unto the new creation. Thrown topsy-turvy. or cots: Certes it would have been but thrown away. And that 's one comfort for my lost advice. turn'd inside-out. fellows of about Some hundred feet in height. and spin. will these great relics. but. But let it go:. from overworking the materialMen are but maggots of some huge Earth's burial.'I have forgotten what I meant to say. I shall not be particular in stating . Look like the monsters of a new museum? But I am apt to grow too metaphysical: 'The time is out of joint. and reap. and set to plough. or burnt. or drown'd. As sometimes have been greater sages' lots.'. some mystic. fried.) How will. just thrust out From some fresh Paradise. Till all the arts at length are brought about. note or text. underground. and sweat. when too oft they pup. not to say miles.. palaces. 'T was something calculated to allay All wrath in barracks. rising out From our old crash. Like all the worlds before.

His wings subdued to epaulettes. we 've so many tours of late: Suppose him then at Petersburgh. Of him who. Suppose him sword by side. Made up by youth. Or Scherbatoff. like sails new shiver'd in a storm. Who took by turns that difficult command Since first her majesty was singly crown'd: But they were mostly nervous six-foot fellows.' O. And brilliant breeches. His bow converted into a cock'd hat. and an army tailorThat great enchanter. but sharp as ever. suppose That pleasant capital of painted snows. but slight and slim. as they are rather numerous found. that Psyche were more clever Than some wives (who make blunders no less stupid). No wonder then that Yermoloff. There lurk'd a man beneath the spirit's dress. the ladies whisper'd. If she had not mistaken him for Cupid. Bid Ireland's Londonderry's Marquess show . Then held that 'high official situation. or Momonoff. a long plume. and hat in hand. Of yellow casimere we may presume. and The empress smiled: the reigning favourite frown'dI quite forget which of them was in hand Just then. bright as a Cairn Gorme. Waving. with his arrows at His side as a small sword. at whose rod's command Beauty springs forth. Blushing and beardless. his quiver Shrunk to a scabbard. fame. And had just buried the fair-faced Lanskoi. The courtiers stared. which seem'd to express. in the language of his station. That though he look'd one of the seraphim. Suppose him in a handsome uniform.A scarlet coat.Behold him placed as if upon a pillar! He Seems Love turn'd a lieutenant of artillery:His bandage slipp'd down into a cravat. black facings. Besides. whether smooth or rough. or any other off Or on. a thought to cast of gloom enough Along the aspect. gentle ladies! should you seek to know The import of this diplomatic phrase. White stocking drawn uncurdled as new milk O'er limbs whose symmetry set off the silk.His journey. All fit to make a Patagonian jealous. And still more in his eye. But still so like. might dread her majesty had not room enough Within her bosom (which was not too tough) For a new flame. Over a cock'd hat in a crowded room. and yet ne'ertheless There was a something in his turn of limb. the empress sometimes liked a boy. and Nature's self turns paler. Seeing how Art can make her work more grand (When she don't pin men's limbs in like a gaoler). Juan was none of these.

yet had a touch Of sentiment. I think I can explain myself without That sad inexplicable beast of preyThat Sphinx.I have conn'd The history of divorces. And Catherine. but how he falls and rises Since. though chequer'd. alas! too true 't is) Beneath his art.'Lady. press'd to disclose them.that long spout Of blood and water. made stocks rise and their holders. Calls Ilion's the first damages on record. And yet but made a middling grenadier.. who was such A lover as had cost her many a tear. the fond Parisian aspect which upset old Troy And founded Doctors' Commons:. The dame. leaden Castlereagh! And here I must an anecdote relate. matron-like interpretation. and pass'd for much Admiring those (by dainty dames abhorr'd) Gigantic gentlemen.' but I . Of the imperial favourite's condition. And had retain'd his boyish look beyond The usual hirsute seasons which destroy. But luckily of no great length or weight. and in the strange displays Of that odd string of words. and the like. and he she most adored Was the lamented Lanskoi. the highest in the nation In fact.thou nondescript! Whence is our exit and our entrance. No doubt gave pain.how man fell I Know not.well I May pause in pondering how all souls are dipt In thy perennial fountain:. Said. Which hovers oft about some married beauties. and every one obeys. was a most beauteous boy. all in a row. 'T was a high place. Called 'Cavalier servente?'. Of that weak wordy harvest the sole gleaning. if not in rank. I said. whose words would ever be a doubt.His parts of speech. since knowledge saw her branches stript Of her first fruit. Oh thou 'teterrima causa' of all 'belli'Thou gate of life and death. With beards and whiskers. I beseech you to suppose them. Did not his deeds unriddle them each dayThat monstrous hieroglyphic. Which none divine. thou hast settled beyond all surmises. If rather broad. Who was gone to his place). which. Some call thee 'the worst cause of war. and the suspicion Of any one's attaining to his station.' And thus I supplicate your supposition. where each new pair of shoulders. An English lady ask'd of an Italian. What were the actual and official duties Of the strange thing some women set a value on. Juan. Perhaps you may pick out some queer no meaning. who loved all things (save her lord. And mildest.a Pygmalion Whose statues warm (I fear.

Or waste a world? since no one can deny Thou dost replenish worlds both great and small: With. and succulent. thirty thousand slain. But when on the lieutenant at her feet Her majesty. Glanced mildly. when things call'd sovereigns think it best To kill. thou sea of life's dry land! Catherine. These quench'd a moment her ambition's thirstSo Arab deserts drink in summer's rain: In vain!. or peace. Great joy was hers. Her face was noble. So you may take your choice of this or that)Catherine. and why To get at thee not batter down a wall. all the world was on the watch. she tore The letter open with an air which posed The court. Though somewhat large. Her third was feminine enough to annul The shudder which runs naturally through Our veins. exuberant.As fall the dews on quenchless sands. Like flowers well water'd after a long drouth. and in turn was wont with rigour To exact of Cupid's bills the full amount . her eyes fine. ripe. When wroth. I say. all things at a stand Are. who was the grand epitome Of that great cause of war. Though rather spacious. or would be. on whose plumage sat Victory. she was as fine a figure As those who like things rosy. who threw Into a Russian couplet rather dull The whole gazette of thousands whom he slew. and truculent. while they are in vigour. The two first feelings ran their course complete. And lighted first her eye. Then recollecting the whole empress. Would wish to look on. or without thee. She smiled at mad Suwarrow's rhymes.while pleased. Until a royal smile at length disclosed Fair weather for the day. to thee we go. and generals turn it into jest. As an East Indian sunrise on the main. forgot to break the seal. She could repay each amatory look you lent With interest. and then her mouth: The whole court look'd immediately most sweet. or rather joys: the first Was a ta'en city. Blood only serves to wash Ambition's hands! Her next amusement was more fanciful. or what You please (it causes all the things which be. mouth gracious. and pausing as she saw him kneel With his despatch. was very glad to see The handsome herald. who liked to gaze on youth Almost as much as on a new despatch.Maintain thou art the best: for after all From thee we come. Glory and triumph o'er her aspect burst. that watch'd each look her visage wore. nor forgetting quite the woman (which composed At least three parts of this great whole).

if not in love.which. for the eye In love drinks all life's fountains (save tears) dry.' Her majesty look'd down. maid or mother. 'deigns to prove' ('T is Pope's phrase) a great longing. the youth look'd upAnd so they fell in love. For a lieutenant to climb up.she with his face. for though she would widow all Nations. though a rash one. empress. on the other hand. 'T is very true the hill seem'd rather high. And thirdly he who brought you the despatch! Shakspeare talks of 'the herald Mercury New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill.. is light to what she 'll say or do. though at times convenient. As bold as Daniel in the lion's den. for they tell That she was handsome. which jostle in their flight! Just now yours were cut out in different sections: First Ismail's capture caught your fancy quite. A quintessential laudanum or 'black drop. To thee both oh! and ah! belong of right In love and war) how odd are the connections Of human thoughts. he was of that delighted age Which makes all female ages equal. without the base Expedient of full bumpers. With her the latter. Next of new knights. Besides. and though fierce look'd lenient. when some sort of thing above Ourselves. she can change her Mind like the wind: whatever she has said Or done. His grace. For one especial person out of many. If once beyond her boudoir's precincts in ye went.The oldest thing on record. the fresh and glorious batch. Makes us believe ourselves as good as any. his God-knows-what: for Cupid's cup With the first draught intoxicates apace.' Which makes one drunk at once. He. And always used her favourites too well. a singer. And what a whirlpool full of depth and danger Is all the rest about her! Whether wed Or widow. While her young herald knelt before her still. Or duchess.when We don't much care with whom we may engage. and yet new! Oh Catherine! (for of all interjections. Fell into that no less imperious passion. So that we can our native sun assuage . What a strange thing is man? and what a stranger Is woman! What a whirlwind is her head. nor would permit you to discount.' And some such visions cross'd her majesty. Self-love. she liked man as an individual. princess. much in fashion. and by God's blessing With youth and health all kisses are 'heaven-kissing. dancer. but skill Smooth'd even the Simplon's steep. Your 'fortune' was in a fair way 'to swell A man' (as Giles says).At sight. Was not so necessary.

just now in juicy vigour. as the best examples say: Napoleon's. explain Enough to make a stripling very vain.Reason ne'er was hand-and-glove With rhyme. That good old steam-boat which keeps verses moving 'Gainst reason. just as Sol's heat is Quench'd in the lap of the salt sea. How beautiful that moment! and how odd is That fever which precedes the languid rout Of our sensations! What a curious way The whole thing is of clothing souls in clay! The noblest kind of love is love Platonical. Those movements. Too wise to look through optics black or blue)Her sweet smile. And that 's enough. are quite as good. there are those things which words name senses. if they have soul. to mix with a goddess. And Catherine (we must say thus much for Catherine). the loving Of faithful pairs (I needs must rhyme with dove. And Pallas also sanctions the same hue. or Thetis. To end or to begin with. On which the passion's self seems to depend: And hence some heathenish philosophers Make love the main spring of the universe. Seem'd taking out the sting to leave the honey. Selfish in its beginning as its end. A maddening spirit which would strive to blend Itself with beauty's frail inanity. And when you add to this. which may flow just then. those improvements in our bodies Which make all bodies anxious to get out Of their own sand-pits. With other extras. which we need not mention.beside all these pretences To love. and her then majestic figure. Her plumpness. besides the love Of God. the love of sentiment.All these. A royal husband in all save the ringWhich. was the kind of thing Whose temporary passion was quite flattering. Made up upon an amatory pattern. Besides Platonic love. Because each lover look'd a sort of king. Mary's (queen of Scotland). her imperial condescension. should Lend to that colour a transcendent ray. for love is vanity. Her preference of a boy to men much bigger (Fellows whom Messalina's self would pension). Though bold and bloody. being the damn'dest part of matrimony. her blue eyes or gray (The last. the next grand Is that which may be christen'd love canonical. or any one of these. Except where 't is a mere insanity.In the next ocean. . For such all women are at first no doubt. her womanhood In its meridian. To make a twilight in. but always leant less to improving The sound than sense). Her prime of life. Or better.

That he who names one. and each lovely lisper Smiled as she talk'd the matter o'er. ever saith The truth. All the ambassadors of all the powers Enquired. Juan much flatter'd by her love. Whose avarice all disbursements did importune. disgrace her sex and station. . the grand liar. Her vile. Unlike our own half-chaste Elizabeth. the younger cast some leers On one another. he knew not how. be they near or far. The whole court melted into one wide whisper. or lust. And was not the best wife. If history. that great opener of the heart and all The ways that lead there. among whose recreations It is to speculate on handsome faces. below. and all was bustle In the dissolving circle. Especially when such lead to high places. Who promised to be great in some few hours? Which is full soon.Love (though she had a cursed taste for war. and though grief her old age might shorten. Already they beheld the silver showers Of rubles rain. Catherine was generous.our story must Tell for itself: the sovereign was smitten.though life is but a span. but tears Of rivalship rose in each clouded eye Of all the standing army who stood by. ambiguous method of flirtation. Upon his cabinet.Because the clergy take the thing in hand. all the nations' Ambassadors began as 't were to hustle Round the young man with their congratulations. both perchance may hit on: But in such matters Russia's mighty empress Behaved no better than a common sempstress. Juan. Above. and some thousand peasants. who found himself. And all lips were applied unto all ears! The elder ladies' wrinkles curl'd much crisper As they beheld. though perhaps 't is better That one should die. And the two are so mix'd with human dust. as fast as specie can. But when the levee rose.all such ladies are: Love.. Who was this very new young man. Is when chaste matrons to their other ties Add what may be call'd marriage in disguise. The third sort to be noted in our chronicle As flourishing in every Christian land. Well. than two drag on the fetter)Love had made Catherine make each lover's fortune. unless we call Such Clytemnestra. And stinginess. by turnpikes great or small. Also the softer silks were heard to rustle Of gentle dames.I cannot stop to alter words once written. besides the presents Of several ribands. Because she put a favourite to death. we won't analyse.

Which youth would not act ill to keep in mind). We have just lit on a 'heaven-kissing hill. would skim .and so will I. I wish to do as much by poesy. As also did Miss Protasoff then there. In taking up this paltry sheet of paper. made His answers with a very graceful bow. And all my fancies whirling like a mill. and sail. And wherefore this exordium?. Discover stars and sail in the wind's eye.' So lofty that I feel my brain turn round. on his unembarrass'd brow Nature had written 'gentleman. but for The stars. and with apples rose. Man fell with apples. just now. Juan retired. but to the purpose.' And this is the sole mortal who could grapple. With her then. WHEN Newton saw an apple fall. as I know. Though modest. If this be true. by the dint of glass and vapour. To those who.. To take a quiet ride in some green Lane. Named from her mystic office 'l'Eprouveuse.' He said Little. for we must deem the mode In which Sir Isaac Newton could disclose Through the then unpaved stars the turnpike road.A general object of attention. as in humble duty bound. And my internal spirit cut a caper: And though so much inferior. And leaving land far out of sight. I own my telescope is dim: But at least I have shunn'd the common shore.Why. My bosom underwent a glorious glow.' A term inexplicable to the Muse. and full soon Steam-engines will conduct him to the moon. In the wind's eye I have sail'd. As if born for the ministerial trade. and his manner Flung hovering graces o'er him like a banner. he found In that slight startle from his contemplation'T is said (for I 'll not answer above ground For any sage's creed or calculation)A mode of proving that the earth turn'd round In a most natural whirl. A thing to counterbalance human woes: For ever since immortal man hath glow'd With all kinds of mechanics. called 'gravitation. Which is a signal to my nerves and brain. until My Pegasus shall tire of touching ground. Since Adam. CANTO_THE_TENTH CANTO THE TENTH. with a fall or with an apple. An order from her majesty consign'd Our young lieutenant to the genial care Of those in office: all the world look'd kind (As it will look sometimes with the first stare.

Though hoary now. Must come? Much rather should he court the ray.how happy they! But Juan was not meant to die so soon. 'that I had a dove's Pinions to flee away. hope. and she may float Where ships have founder'd. he had some qualities which fix Middle-aged ladies even more than young: The former know what 's what. trim. Juan.. Some reckon women by their suns or years. than cough like his grandfather? But sighs subside. and those things Which for an instant clip enjoyment's wings. in the bloom Of favouritism. which no longer roves Beyond its dimm'd eye's sphere. as doth many a boat. with his breath so hoary. You 'd think Grief a rich field which never would lie fallow. 'Oh!' saith the Psalmist. and be at rest!' And who that recollects young years and loves. And far be it from my Muses to presume (For I have more than one Muse at a push) To follow him beyond the drawing-room: It is enough that Fortune found him flush Of youth. I rather think the moon should date the dears. O'erspreads the cheek which seems too pure for clay. To hoard up warmth against a wintry day.but would much rather Sigh like his son. whatsoe'er . So narrow as to shame their wintry brink. And why? because she 's changeable and chaste. love. Which threatens inundations deep and yellow! Such difference doth a few months make. We left our hero. But still sea-worthy skiff. or dreamt (for fancy will play tricks) In visions of those skies from whence Love sprung. I know no other reason. But soon they grow again and leave their nest. We left him in the focus of such glory As may be won by favour of the moon Or ladies' fancies.The ocean of eternity: the roar Of breakers has not daunted my slight. No more it doth.rather transitory Perhaps. And palsied fancy.and now And then before sighs cease. but who would scorn the month of June. die. Hectic and brief as summer's day nigh done. Because December. its ploughs but change their boys. Thousands blaze. but not yet in the blush. But coughs will come when sighs depart. Who furrow some new soil to sow for joys. Like Arno in the summer. and tears (even widows') shrink. and vigour.. for oft the one Will bring the other. to a shallow. beauty. or the sun Of life reach'd ten o'clock: and while a glow. Besides. while new-fledged chicks Know little more of love than what is sung In rhymes. ere the lake-like brow Is ruffled by a wrinkle. and with a withering breast.

I forgive him. new wives. I must. And when I use the phrase of 'Auld Lang Syne!' 'T is not address'd to you. Old enemies who have become new friends Should so continue. who find fault in haste.renegadoes. than aught (save Scott) in your proud city. that incarnate lie. Would scarcely join again the 'reformadoes.. The lawyer's brief is like the surgeon's knife. Are over: Here 's a health to 'Auld Lang Syne!' I do not know you.' As my friend Jeffrey writes with such an air: However. And yet I seek not to be grand nor witty. and may never know Your face. By those who scour those double vales of strife.if not. and fain outrun her. May choose to tax me with. Nor flattering to 'their temper or their taste. And nought remains unseen. I own. once my most redoubted foe (As far as rhyme and criticism combine To make such puppets of us things below). This were the worst desertion:. Even shuffling Southey. Whether in Caledon or Italy. And that 's the reason he himself 's so dirty. and I own it from my soul. Dear Jefferson. As Caesar wore his robe you wear your gown.the more 's the pity For me. The lawyer and the critic but behold The baser sides of literature and life.but you have acted on the whole Most nobly. Old flames. At least some twenty-nine do out of thirty.- .' Whom he forsook to fill the laureate's sty: And honest men from Iceland to Barbadoes. While common men grow ignorantly old.Suspicious people.'t is a point of honour. and I trust He will forgive himself. the moment when you cease to please. A legal broom 's a moral chimney-sweeper. he Retains the sable stains of the dark creeper. And I know nothing which could make amends For a return to hatred: I would shun her Like garlic. for I would rather take my wine With you. nor seize To pain. And all our little feuds. Dissecting the whole inside of a question. The endless soot bestows a tint far deeper Than can be hid by altering his shirt. But somehow. In all their habits.. but much untold. howsoever she extends Her hundred arms and legs. which is not fair. and bred A whole one. And with it all the process of digestion.not so you. and my heart flies to my head. Should not veer round with every breath..it may seem a schoolboy's whine. at least all mine. become our bitterest foesConverted foes should scorn to join with those. But I am half a Scot by birth.

They cannot quench young feelings fresh and early: I 'scotch'd not kill'd' the Scotchman in my blood. But one who is not so youthful as she was In all the royalty of sweet seventeen. And 'gainst the body makes a strong appeal. and winter sunny.Don Juan grew a very polish'd RussianHow we won't mention. who was real. Seduced by youth and dangerous examples. or ideal. all my gentler dreams Of what I then dreamt. war. The Dee. and clear streams..' Don Juan. Yet 't is in vain such sallies to permit. Like Banquo's offspring. And though the duty wax'd a little hard. and dances. We will also pass The usual progress of intrigues between Unequal matches. gay Damsels. such as are. in a fit Of wrath and rhyme. revels. as you remember. Made ice seem paradise. why we need not say: Few youthful minds can stand the strong concussion Of any slight temptation in their way. This we pass over. Scotch plaids. Which must be own'd was sensitive and surly. And know no more of what is here. when juvenile and curly. And shut our souls up in us like a shell-fish. All my boy feelings. And yet 't is very puzzling on the brink Of what is call'd eternity. the blue hills.For both are much the same. Young people at his time of life should be able To come off handsomely in that regard. . Balgounie's brig's black wall. able For love. or ambition. the Don. clothed in their own pall. than there. About this time. one and all. Which is a sad thing. for mind can never sink. I rail'd at Scots to show my wrath and wit. since what men think Exists when the once thinkers are less real Than what they thought. He was now growing up like a green tree. and not only tramples On our fresh feelings. to stare.'t is a glimpse of 'Auld Lang Syne.as being participated With all kinds of incorrigible samples Of frail humanity. but.' And though. The favour of the empress was agreeable. till old age's tedium Make some prefer the circulating medium.must make us selfish. Don Juan grew. as might have been anticipated. And love the land of 'mountain and of flood.As 'Auld Lang Syne' brings Scotland. a little dissipated.floating past me seems My childhood in this childishness of mine: I care not. ready money. But his just now were spread as is a cushion Smooth'd for a monarch's seat of honour. alas! A young lieutenant's with a not old queen. I fear. Scotch snoods. which reward Their luckier votaries.

Perceiving fie was in a handsome way Of getting on himself.. when things are in a flurry. won't flatter. the d__d democrats. And this same state we won't describe: we would Perhaps from hearsay. And eating ices. and I won't reflect. That with the addition of a slight pelisse.and all his near relations. Through all the 'purple and fine linen. answer'd the same day. If I can stave off thought.that is. To one small grass-grown patch (which must await Corruption for its crop) with the poor devils Who never had a foot of land till now. or as a lover's kiss Drains its first draught of lips:. As purple clouds befringe the sun. In this gay clime of bear-skins black and furryWhich (though I hate to say a thing that 's bitter) Peep out sometimes. the sovereign's sovereign. that half-way house. who levels With his Agrarian laws the high estate Of him who feasts. He had brought his spending to a handsome anchor. His mother. as I said. much to each dress he sported. too.as a whelp Clings to its teat. or as the kelp Holds by the rock. that rude Hut. finding. which.that is. and looking back to youth. much also to the blood he show'd. and fights. Donna Inez. That in the lieu of drawing on his banker.. Several prepared themselves for emigrations. if I can help Description.Sovereigns may sway materials. instead of courting courts.' That horrid equinox. or from recollection. He wrote to Spain:. and finding stations For cousins also. And wrinkles.but. Which set the beauty off in which he glow'd. and much to his reported Valour.A thing which happens rarely: this he owed Much to his youth. were o'erheard to say. and glitter. and revels. And Death. Madrid's and Moscow's climes were of a piece.sticks to me through the abyss Of this odd labyrinth. I won't philosophise. Where his assets were waxing rather few. Juan. but Juan) in a hurry Of waste. and haste. that hateful section Of human years. He lived (not Death. but not matter. all men must allow. and glare. But getting nigh grim Dante's 'obscure wood.Death 's a reformer. was courted.' fitter For Babylon's than Russia's royal harlotAnd neutralize her outward show of scarlet. and roars. give one tear.I won't describe. though the great Gracchus of all mortality. and gloss. and will be read. whence wise travellers drive with circumspection Life's sad post-horses o'er the dreary frontier Of age. Like a race-horse.- . but most He owed to an old woman and his post.

eight-and-forty manors (If that my memory doth not greatly err) Were their reward for following Billy's banners: And though I can't help thinking 't was scarce fair To strip the Saxons of their hydes. despite his duty. which looks odd In Catholic eyes. as monarchs do from rhymes. whose ancestors are there. but told him. Or five. Yet as they founded churches with the produce.but. as well as Mother. Not practise! Oh for trumps of cherubim! Or the ear-trumpet of my good old aunt. 'She also recommended him to God. or one. As the sole sign of man's being in his senses Is. But where thermometers sunk down to ten. and above All. Such as the conqueror William did repay His knights with.' Oh for a forty-parson power to chant Thy praise. I can't complain. Who. poor soul. She was no hypocrite at least. to smother Outward dislike. in a sort of doomsday scroll.Replied. though her spectacles at last grew dim. learning to reduce his past expenses. or zero. whose nation And climate. Erneis. 'that she was glad to see him through Those pleasures after which wild youth will hanker. You 'll deem. Which portions out upon the judgment day Heaven's freeholds. But went to heaven in as sincere a way As any body on the elected roll. Warn'd him against Greek worship. stopp'd all scandal (now and then):At home it might have given her some vexation. though at times He felt like other plants called sensitive. Which shrink from touch. 'She could not too much give her approbation Unto an empress. like tanners. they put it to a good use. The gentle Juan flourish'd. lotting others' properties Into some sixty thousand new knights' fees. Radulphus. Perhaps he long'd in bitter frosts for climes In which the Neva's ice would cease to live Before May-day: perhaps. no doubt. When she no more could read the pious print. too. who preferr'd young men Whose age. she could never Believe that virtue thaw'd before the river. and what was better still. we need not seek For causes young or old: the canker-worm . In royalty's vast arms he sigh d for beauty: Perhaps. Save such as Southey can afford to give. Inform'd him that he had a little brother Born in a second wedlock. sans perhaps. Hypocrisy! Oh for a hymn Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt. And no less to God's Son. praised the empress's maternal love. Drew quiet consolation through its hint. which don't look well abroad.

or soft Abernethy. to bloom in.' But here is one prescription out of many: 'Sodae sulphat. 'Bolus Potassae Sulphuret. Instead of gliding graciously down Lethe. Secundum artem: but although we sneer In health. and her physician (The same who physick'd Peter) found the tick Of his fierce pulse betoken a condition Which augur'd of the dead. they said. Others again were ready to maintain. freshest cheek. The climate was too cold. We tease mild Baillie. But in a style becoming his condition. for him. They must be paid: though six days smoothly run. She then resolved to send him on a mission. As well as further drain the wither'd form: Care. Exhaustion. 3ifs. and however we may storm. fervent. manifold the rumours: Some said he had been poison'd by Potemkin. Who did not like at first to lose her minion: But when she saw his dazzling eye wax dim. we call them to attend us. And drooping like an eagle's with clipt pinion. Aq. and seem'd to gravel The faculty.who said that he must travel. f. Mannae optim. Which with the blood too readily will claim kin. iij. I don't know how it was. however quick Itself. Ipecacuanhae' (With more beside if Juan had not stopp'd 'em). but he grew sick: The empress was alarm'd. like a housekeeper. Et haustus ter in die capiendus. And sent the doctors in a new direction. . 3vj. His youth and constitution bore him through. and all his medicines doubled. But still his state was delicate: the hue Of health but flicker'd with a faint reflection Along his wasted cheek. The sovereign shock'd. 3fs.' This is the way physicians mend or end us.when ill. Sennae Haustus' (And here the surgeon came and cupp'd him) 'Rx Pulv Com gr. and show'd a feverish disposition. and though death had threaten'd an ejection. Low were the whispers. The seventh will bring blue devils or a dun. Some said 't was a concoction of the humours. ''T was only the fatigue of last campaign. Without the least propensity to jeer: While that 'hiatus maxime deflendus' To be fill'd up by spade or mattock's near. Others talk'd learnedly of certain tumours. This opinion Made the chaste Catherine look a little grim. brings every week His bills in.Will feed upon the fairest. Meridian-born. or disorders of the same kin. Juan demurr'd at this first notice to Quit. 3ij. tinct. sumendus. At which the whole court was extremely troubled.

and now bore his.for (Let deeper sages the true cause determine) He had a kind of inclination. or Weakness. Though my wild Muse varies . and a bullfinch. He kiss'd hands the next day. Which Britons deem their 'uti possidetis. All private favourites of Don Juan. and reward His services. She could not find at first a fit successor. we request You 'll mount with our young hero the conveyance Which wafted him from Petersburgh: the best Barouche. In other vehicles. A sort of treaty or negotiation Between the British cabinet and Russian. reader. Made Catherine taste next night a quiet slumber:Not that she meant to fix again in haste. but at his side Sat little Leila. and the rights of Thetis. Your queens Are generally prosperous in reigning. the comforter. But always choosing with deliberation.' So Catherine. Was laden with all kinds of gifts and honours. and an ermine. tallow. secretaries. who had a handsome way Of fitting out her favourites. When. Kept the place open for their emulation. Although he was not old. and luck 's all. And though her dignity brook'd no complaining.There was just then a kind of a discussion. For one or two days. Something about the Baltic's navigation. Which puzzles us to know what Fortune means. to display At once her royal splendour. she went to Tauris.The animals aforesaid occupied Their station: there were valets. Nor did she find the quantity encumber. Maintain'd with all the due prevarication With which great states such things are apt to push on. who survived the parries He made 'gainst Cossacque sabres. While this high post of honour 's in abeyance. conferr'd This secret charge on Juan. which had the glory to display once The fair czarina's autocratic crest. Was given to her favourite. Which show'd what great discernment was the donor's. for what most people deem mere vermin. train-oil. Hides. But she was lucky. But time. Live animals: an old maid of threescore For cats and birds more penchant ne'er display'd. in the wide Slaughter of Ismail. So much did Juan's setting off distress her. But to continue: though her years were waning Her climacteric teased her like her teens. will come at last. And four-and-twenty hours.. a new lphigene. and twice that number Of candidates requesting to be placed. Received instructions how to play his card. A bull-dog. nor even a maid.

as also her salvation Through his means and the church's might be paved. And with that gentle. He was not yet quite old enough to prove Parental feelings. the only Christian she could bear Was Juan.for he never had a sister: Ah! if he had.Her note.only he forgot 'em. a ward connected In neither clime. and the other class. I cannot tell exactly what it was. how much he would have miss'd her! And still less was it sensual. blood. and dread. As rare in living beings as a fossile Man. though she knew not why or wherefore. 'T was strange enough she should retain the impression Through such a scene of change. Don Juan loved her. He naturally loved what he protected: And thus they form'd a rather curious pair. sister. the church made little of itShe still held out that Mahomet was a prophet. But though three bishops told her the transgression. Just now there was no peril of temptation. His pride. could not move His bosom. and slaughter. 'midst thy mouldy mammoths. As acids rouse a dormant alkali). But one thing 's odd.no matter. whom she seem'd to have selected In place of what her home and friends once were. As patriots (now and then) may love a nation. father. and she loved him. She show'd a great dislike to holy water: She also had no passion for confession. Perhaps she had nothing to confess:.' . A guardian green in years. The little Turk refused to be converted. and therefore Was tranquil. to stir their veins' salt tides. for besides That he was not an ancient debauchee (Who like sour fruit. He loved the infant orphan he had saved. too. she don't forget the infant girl Whom he preserved. There was the purest Platonism at bottom Of all his feelings. with her defender. felt that she was not enslaved Owing to him.. 'grand Cuvier!' Ill fitted was her ignorance to jostle With this o'erwhelming world. where all must err: But she was yet but ten years old. Call'd brotherly affection. Famous for mines of salt and yokes of iron: Through Courland also. And yet this want of ties made theirs more tender. which that famous farce saw Which gave her dukes the graceless name of 'Biron.. Although ('t will happen as our planet guides) His youth was not the chastest that might be. In fact. which here must be inserted. serious character. Whate'er the cause. time. a pure and living pearl Poor little thing! She was as fair as docile. They journey'd on through Poland and through Warsaw. daughter love. as Nor brother.

Has lately been the great Professor Kant. there is Kosciusko's name Might scatter fire through ice. whose vaunt. rusty pike. By former voyages. not even excepting mine. Senates and sages have condemn'd its useBut to deny the mob a cordial. From thence to Holland's Hague and Helvoetsluys. as he well might be. a green ruin. From Poland they came on through Prussia Proper. the bows dipp'd in the sea. or copper. But Juan posted on through Manheim. A grey wall. stood to watch the skiffs Which pass'd. Bonn. who cared not a tobacco-stopper About philosophy. the siren! To lose by one month's frost some twenty years Of conquest. Where juniper expresses its best juice. seems but cruel. and his guard of grenadiers. And Konigsberg the capital. or catch the first glimpse of the cliffs. like Hecla's flame. that glory should be chill'd by snow! But should we wish to warm us on our way Through Poland. Here he embark'd. like a white wall along The blue sea's border. Who march'd to Moscow. And thence through Berlin. The poor man's sparkling substitute for riches. Think of the Thunderer's falling down below Carotid-artery-cutting Castlereagh! Alas. And sea-sick passengers turn'd somewhat pale. A city which presents to the inspector Eleven thousand maidenheads of bone. Juan. That water-land of Dutchmen and of ditches.'T is the same landscape which the modern Mars saw. lead. Good government has left them. and the like. Towards which the impatient wind blew half a gale. Make my soul pass the equinoctial line Between the present and past worlds. The greatest number flesh hath ever known. Until he reach'd the castellated Rhine:Ye glorious Gothic scenes! how much ye strike All phantasies. which is Too often all the clothing. half-seas-over. But Juan. and with a flowing sail Went bounding for the island of the free. led by Fame. season'd. High dash'd the spray. pursued his jaunt To Germany. and I Don Juan felt- . At length they rose. meat. Let this not seem an anti-climax:.'Oh! My guard! my old guard exclaim'd!' exclaim'd that god of day. Dresden. On which I have not time just now to lecture. and hover Upon their airy confine. Which Drachenfels frowns over like a spectre Of the good feudal times forever gone. Besides some veins of iron. whose somewhat tardy millions Have princes who spur more than their postilions. or fuel. From thence he was drawn onwards to Cologne.

How all the nations deem her their worst foe. And now would chain them.sad dogs! whom 'Hundsfot. Which holds what might have been the noblest nation. Thy custom-house. long bills. and magnifique. the respiration's worth the money. truly. young. as they who wear. and also pause besides. with all its delicate duties. know How her great name is now throughout abhorr'd: How eager all the earth is for the blow Which shall lay bare her bosom to the sword. to fuddle With 'schnapps'. And last. I feel a mix'd regret and veneration For its decaying fame and former worth. I 've no great cause to love that spot of earth. splash through puddle.' Affect no more than lightning a conductor. whence nothing is deducted. Is free. Is the poor privilege to turn the key Upon the captive..' or 'Verflucter. or boast herself the free. Thy waiters running mucks at every bell. and hotel. But though I owe it little but my birth. Thy long. That worse than worst of foes. what is he? No less a victim to the bolt and bar. Thy packets. as if they went to bury Their fare. And rich in rubles. though careless. to strangers uninstructed. dear Dover! harbour. Alas! could she but fully. Seven years (the usual term of transportation) Of absence lay one's old resentments level. On with the horses! Off to Canterbury! Tramp. Who is but first of slaves? The nations are In prison. tramp o'er pebble. all whose passengers are booties To those who upon land or water dwell. who sternly dealt Their goods and edicts out from pole to pole. the once adored False friend. though seldom sunny. Don Juan now saw Albion's earliest beauties.What even young strangers feel a little strong At the first sight of Albion's chalky beltA kind of pride that he should be among Those haughty shopkeepers. a smart. Yet stared at this a little. .but the gaoler. When a man's country 's going to the devil. subtle Greek. diamonds. And made the very billows pay them toll. and credit. to the very mind:Would she be proud. Hurrah! how swiftly speeds the post so merry! Not like slow Germany. though he paid it (His Maggior Duomo. Who did not limit much his bills per week. Before him summ'd the awful scroll and read it). Thy cliffs. wherein they muddle Along the road. freedom? He 's as far From the enjoyment of the earth and air Who watches o'er the chain. Juan. who held out freedom to mankind. cash. But doubtless as the air. not least. and splash.

Which form that bitter draught. Half-solved into these sodas or magnesias. volcanos. The cruel Nazarenes. Which mixes up vines. so 't is but in a hurry. so level. Even the bold Churchman's tomb excited awe. A green field is a sight which makes him pardon The absence of that more sublime construction. Juan admired these highways of free millions. and Becket's bloody stone. the human species. And for their pains get only a fresh puncture.which is driving. who had laid low His holy temples in the lands which bred The True Believers:. Glaciers.no matter where its Direction be. What a delightful thing 's a turnpike road! So smooth. For after years of travel by a bard in Countries of greater heat. A paradise of hops and high production. and ices. The effect on Juan was of course sublime: He breathed a thousand Cressys. as scarce the eagle in the broad Air can accomplish. flung like pearls to swine. And when I think upon a pot of beerBut I won't weep!. Were pointed out as usual by the bedral. gentle reader! All Ends in a rusty casque and dubious bone. And ask'd why such a structure had been raised: And being told it was 'God's house. Oh! oh! through meadows managed like a garden. such a mode of shaving The earth. but only wonder'd how He suffer'd Infidels in his homestead. save some silly ones. As going at full speed.Now there is nothing gives a man such spirits. as he saw That casque. A country in all senses the most dear To foreigner or native. uninterested tone:There 's glory again for you. but lesser suction. with his wide wings waving. Little Leila gazed. And merely for the sake of its own merits.' she said He was well lodged. which never stoop'd except to Time. The greater is the pleasure in arriving At the great end of travel. olives. Leavening his blood as cayenne doth a curry. Black Edward's helm. postilions! As the smart boys spurr'd fast in their career. who now at least must talk of law Before they butcher. They saw at Canterbury the cathedral. For the less cause there is for all this flurry. precipices. Who died in the then great attempt to climb O'er kings.and so drive on.and her infant brow Was bent with grief that Mahomet should resign A mosque so noble. Had such been cut in Phaeton's time. Who 'kick against the pricks' just at this juncture. oranges. In the same quaint. the god Had told his son to satisfy his craving .

As one who. Extremely wholesome.but onward as we roll. My gentle countrymen. take wives. Such is the shortest way to general curses. like a foolscap crown On a fool's head.. then lost amidst the forestry Of masts. o'er a space Which well beseem'd the 'Devil's drawing-room. A huge. which o'er it as a yoke Are bow'd. and smoke. which looks with pride or scorn Toward the great city. or with other houses? Try Your head at harden'd and imperial sin. But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.a male Mrs.' As some have qualified that wondrous place: But Juan felt. as doth a crew Before they give their broadside. but as wide as eye Could reach. though he were not of the race.With the York mail.. Just as the day began to wane and darken. and he may brook it. Juan now was borne.Ye who have a spark in Your veins of Cockney spirit.and so will I. Who butcher'd half the earth. and shipping. though not approaching home. They hate a murderer much less than a claimant On that sweet ore which every body nurses. we are now on Shooter's Hill! The sun went down. and bullied t' other.Kill a man's family. as from A half-unquench'd volcano. Oh Mrs. .the toll Alas. hearken To your instructor. O'er the high hill. with here and there a sail just skipping In sight. And brush a web or two from off the walls. of those true sons the mother. and put the sun out like a taper. we will renew Our old acquaintance. Fry! Why go to Newgate? Why Preach to poor rogues? And wherefore not begin With Carlton. Because they are so.. Fry. the smoke rose up. Revered the soil.and there is London Town! But Juan saw not this: each wreath of smoke Appear'd to him but as the magic vapour Of some alchymic furnace. and at least I 'll try To tell you truths you will not take as true. though but rarely clear. Were nothing but the natural atmosphere. dun cupola. He paused. So said the Florentine: ye monarchs. A mighty mass of brick. With a soft besom will I sweep your halls.Bold Britons. smile or mourn According as you take things well or ill. 'Surgit amari aliquid'. how deeply painful is all payment! Take lives. from whence broke The wealth of worlds (a wealth of tax and paper): The gloomy clouds. take aught except men's purses: As Machiavel shows those in purple raiment. Dirty and dusky. By and by. a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy.

lest it should Turn out so. Or adamant. And wear my head. A jargon. still better:. Without confusion of the sorts and sexes. But which I doubt extremely. CANTO_THE_ELEVENTH CANTO THE ELEVENTH. That hired huzzas redeem no land's distresses. (Not the most 'dainty Ariel') and perplexes Our soarings with another sort of question: And that which after all my spirit vexes. As several people think such hazards rude. They 're right. Too dull even for the dullest of excesses. Unless you make their betters better:. Of beings. Cure them of tours. denying that I wear it.But you won't. bloated. a mere philanthropic din. spoil not my draught of spirit! Heaven's brandy. and every body one day will . or if it be according To the old text. Tell them. A fool whose bells have ceased to ring at all.if thou be'st Doubt. The witless Falstaff of a hoary Hal.Fy! I thought you had more religion. sated. Teach them the decencies of good threescore. and I have prated Just now enough. Mrs. That all 's ideal. The world. Tell them that youth once gone returns no more. our days are too brief for affording Space to dispute what no one ever could Decide. which at the worst 's a glorious blunderIf it be chance.thou sole prism Of the Truth's rays. To set up vain pretence of being great.'t was no matter what he said: They say his system 't is in vain to batter. stars. and be it stated. and this unriddled wonder. Too subtle for the airiest human head. but by and by I 'll prattle Like Roland's horn in Roncesvalles' battle. And yet who can believe it? I would shatter Gladly all matters down to stone or lead.To mend the people 's an absurdity. On life's worn confine. What a sublime discovery 't was to make the Universe universal egotism.' And proved it. WHEN Bishop Berkeley said 'there was no matter. though it may be perhaps too late. Oh Doubt!. The worthiest kings have ever loved least state. jaded. for which some take thee. to find the world a spirit. And tell them. For ever and anon comes Indigestion. we 'll say nothing 'gainst the wording. Is. hussar and highland dresses. that I find no spot where man can rest eye on. Fry.all ourselves: I 'll stake the World (be it what you will) that that 's no schism. Tell them Sir William Curtis is a bore. though our brain can hardly bear it. 'T is not so to be good.

. The third. which on their pivot he Heard. 'And here. busy hum Of cities. With. 'Here are chaste wives.or at least lie still. nor can entomb it Racks. o'er the summit. While every thing around was calm and still. And look'd down over Attica.Know very clearly. and. And therefore will I leave off metaphysical Discussion.'Damn your eyes! your money or your life!' These freeborn sounds proceeded from four pads In ambush laid. To our Theme. that boil over with their scum:I say. the Virgin's mystical virginity. or hath taken tea In small-eyed China's crockery-ware metropolis.and that bee-like. then this I call Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair.' he cried. On purpose to believe so much the more. to show how much they have a-year. Except the creak of wheels. The fourth at once establish'd the whole Trinity On so uncontrovertible a level. none lay Traps for the traveller. like handy lads. who had perceived him loiter Behind his carriage. which is neither here nor there: If I agree that what is. is. Or sat amidst the bricks of Nineveh. The next.The man who has stood on the Acropolis. The truth is. That I devoutly wish'd the three were four. the place the same declivity Which looks along that vale of good and ill Where London streets ferment in full activity. Or seen Timbuctoo. each new meeting or election. The first attack at once proved the Divinity (But that I never doubted.. here people pay But what they please. inquisitions. And lost in wonder of so great a nation. since he could not overcome it. Gave way to 't. May not think much of London's first appearanceBut ask him what he thinks of it a year hence? Don Juan had got out on Shooter's Hill.the air Perhaps. I grow much more orthodox. Don Juan.. Here laws are all inviolate. wrapt in contemplation. but as I suffer from the shocks Of illness. 'T is only that they love to throw away Their cash. Sunset the time. and if that things be dear. nor the Devil). prisons. pure lives. or he Who has sail'd where picturesque Constantinople is. Walk'd on behind his carriage. Had seized the lucky hour to reconnoitre. bubbling. I 've grown lately rather phthisical: I don't know what the reason is. every highway 's clear: Here-' he was interrupted by a knife. resurrection Awaits it. 'is Freedom's chosen station. the usual Origin of Evil. Here peals the people's voice. In which the heedless gentleman who gads .

And Juan's suite. except in robbing with a bow. And being somewhat choleric and sudden. and he drew ill His breath. all fancy. Unto his nearest follower or henchman. His pockets first and then his body riddled. In lieu of a bare blade and brazen front. And roar'd out. Juan. And wish'd he had been less hasty with his flint. 'God damn!' And even that he had so rarely heard.and 't is not absurd To think so: for half English as I am (To my misfortune). 'Hold! I 've got my gruel! Oh for a glass of max! We 've miss'd our booty.Upon the road. Don Juan. crying. A thorough varmint. As soon as 'Crowner's quest' allow'd. The cravat stain'd with bloody drops fell down Before Don Juan's feet: he could not tell Exactly why it was before him thrown. late assistance.and died. The dying man cried. as usual. late scatter'd at a distance. never can I say I heard them wish 'God with you. as rolls an ox o'er in his pasture. I 'll help you with the load. Nor what the meaning of the man's farewell. as he writhed his native mud in. Full flash.Juan yet quickly understood their gesture. Juan. 'it is the country's wont To welcome foreigners in this way: now I recollect some innkeepers who don't Differ.' thought he. Stood calling out for bandages and lint. But what is to be done? I can't allow The fellow to lie groaning on the road: So take him up.. 'Perhaps.' But ere they could perform this pious duty. May find himself within that isle of riches Exposed to lose his life as well as breeches. Drew forth a pocket pistol from his vesture. Let me die where I am!' And as the fuel Of life shrunk in his heart. who did not understand a word Of English. And offering. And fired it into one assailant's puddingWho fell. 'Give Sal that!'. until fairly diddled. all marvelling at such a deed. unless he prove a fighter. Poor Tom was once a kiddy upon town.' save that way. save their shibboleth. pursued . having done the best he could In all the circumstances of the case. Came up. He sometimes thought 't was only their 'Salam. who saw the moon's late minion bleed As if his veins would pour out his existence. and a real swell.he from his swelling throat untied A kerchief.' Or 'God be with you!'. and thick and sooty The drops fell from his death-wound. 'Oh Jack! I 'm floor'd by that 'ere bloody Frenchman!' On which Jack and his train set off at speed.

His travels to the capital apace;Esteeming it a little hard he should In twelve hours' time, and very little space, Have been obliged to slay a freeborn native In self-defence: this made him meditative. He from the world had cut off a great man, Who in his time had made heroic bustle. Who in a row like Tom could lead the van, Booze in the ken, or at the spellken hustle? Who queer a flat? Who (spite of Bow Street's ban) On the high toby-spice so flash the muzzle? Who on a lark, with black-eyed Sal (his blowing), So prime, so swell, so nutty, and so knowing? But Tom's no more- and so no more of Tom. Heroes must die; and by God's blessing 't is Not long before the most of them go home. Hail! Thamis, Hail! Upon thy verge it is That Juan's chariot, rolling like a drum In thunder, holds the way it can't well miss, Through Kennington and all the other 'tons,' Which makes us wish ourselves in town at once;Through Groves, so call'd as being void of trees (Like lucus from no light); through prospects named Mount Pleasant, as containing nought to please, Nor much to climb; through little boxes framed Of bricks, to let the dust in at your ease, With 'To be let' upon their doors proclaim'd; Through 'Rows' most modestly call'd 'Paradise,' Which Eve might quit without much sacrifice;Through coaches, drays, choked turnpikes, and a whirl Of wheels, and roar of voices, and confusion; Here taverns wooing to a pint of 'purl,' There mails fast flying off like a delusion; There barbers' blocks with periwigs in curl In windows; here the lamplighter's infusion Slowly distill'd into the glimmering glass (For in those days we had not got to gas);Through this, and much, and more, is the approach Of travellers to mighty Babylon: Whether they come by horse, or chaise, or coach, With slight exceptions, all the ways seem one. I could say more, but do not choose to encroach Upon the Guide-book's privilege. The sun Had set some time, and night was on the ridge Of twilight, as the party cross'd the bridge,That 's rather fine. The gentle sound of ThamisWho vindicates a moment, too, his stream, Though hardly heard through multifarious 'damme's'The lamps of Westminster's more regular gleam, The breadth of pavement, and yon shrine where fame is A spectral resident- whose pallid beam In shape of moonshine hovers o'er the pileMake this a sacred part of Albion's isle. The Druids' groves are gone- so much the better:

Stone-Henge is not- but what the devil is it?But Bedlam still exists with its sage fetter, That madmen may not bite you on a visit; The Bench too seats or suits full many a debtor; The Mansion House too (though some people quiz it) To me appears a stiff yet grand erection; But then the Abbey 's worth the whole collection. The line of lights, too, up to Charing Cross, Pall Mall, and so forth, have a coruscation Like gold as in comparison to dross, Match'd with the Continent's illumination, Whose cities Night by no means deigns to gloss. The French were not yet a lamp-lighting nation, And when they grew so- on their new-found lantern, Instead of wicks, they made a wicked man turn. A row of gentlemen along the streets Suspended may illuminate mankind, As also bonfires made of country seats; But the old way is best for the purblind: The other looks like phosphorus on sheets, A sort of ignis fatuus to the mind, Which, though 't is certain to perplex and frighten, Must burn more mildly ere it can enlighten. But London 's so well lit, that if Diogenes Could recommence to hunt his honest man, And found him not amidst the various progenies Of this enormous city's spreading span, 'T were not for want of lamps to aid his dodging his Yet undiscover'd treasure. What I can, I 've done to find the same throughout life's journey, But see the world is only one attorney. Over the stones still rattling up Pall Mall, Through crowds and carriages, but waxing thinner As thunder'd knockers broke the long seal'd spell Of doors 'gainst duns, and to an early dinner Admitted a small party as night fell,Don Juan, our young diplomatic sinner, Pursued his path, and drove past some hotels, St. James's Palace and St. James's 'Hells.' They reach'd the hotel: forth stream'd from the front door A tide of well-clad waiters, and around The mob stood, and as usual several score Of those pedestrian Paphians who abound In decent London when the daylight 's o'er; Commodious but immoral, they are found Useful, like Malthus, in promoting marriage.But Juan now is stepping from his carriage Into one of the sweetest of hotels, Especially for foreigners- and mostly For those whom favour or whom fortune swells, And cannot find a bill's small items costly. There many an envoy either dwelt or dwells (The den of many a diplomatic lost lie), Until to some conspicuous square they pass,

And blazon o'er the door their names in brass. Juan, whose was a delicate commission, Private, though publicly important, bore No title to point out with due precision The exact affair on which he was sent o'er. 'T was merely known, that on a secret mission A foreigner of rank had graced our shore, Young, handsome, and accomplish'd, who was said (In whispers) to have turn'd his sovereign's head. Some rumour also of some strange adventures Had gone before him, and his wars and loves; And as romantic heads are pretty painters, And, above all, an Englishwoman's roves Into the excursive, breaking the indentures Of sober reason wheresoe'er it moves, He found himself extremely in the fashion, Which serves our thinking people for a passion. I don't mean that they are passionless, but quite The contrary; but then 't is in the head; Yet as the consequences are as bright As if they acted with the heart instead, What after all can signify the site Of ladies' lucubrations? So they lead In safety to the place for which you start, What matters if the road be head or heart? Juan presented in the proper place, To proper placemen, every Russ credential; And was received with all the due grimace By those who govern in the mood potential, Who, seeing a handsome stripling with smooth face, Thought (what in state affairs is most essential) That they as easily might do the youngster, As hawks may pounce upon a woodland songster. They err'd, as aged men will do; but by And by we 'll talk of that; and if we don't, 'T will be because our notion is not high Of politicians and their double front, Who live by lies, yet dare not boldly lie:Now what I love in women is, they won't Or can't do otherwise than lie, but do it So well, the very truth seems falsehood to it. And, after all, what is a lie? 'T is but The truth in masquerade; and I defy Historians, heroes, lawyers. priests, to put A fact without some leaven of a lie. The very shadow of true Truth would shut Up annals, revelations, poesy, And prophecy- except it should be dated Some years before the incidents related. Praised be all liars and all lies! Who now Can tax my mild Muse with misanthropy? She rings the world's 'Te Deum,' and her brow Blushes for those who will not:- but to sigh Is idle; let us like most others bow,

Kiss hands, feet, any part of majesty, After the good example of 'Green Erin,' Whose shamrock now seems rather worse for wearing. Don Juan was presented, and his dress And mien excited general admirationI don't know which was more admired or less: One monstrous diamond drew much observation, Which Catherine in a moment of 'ivresse' (In love or brandy's fervent fermentation) Bestow'd upon him, as the public learn'd; And, to say truth, it had been fairly earn'd. Besides the ministers and underlings, Who must be courteous to the accredited Diplomatists of rather wavering kings, Until their royal riddle 's fully read, The very clerks,- those somewhat dirty springs Of office, or the house of office, fed By foul corruption into streams,- even they Were hardly rude enough to earn their pay: And insolence no doubt is what they are Employ'd for, since it is their daily labour, In the dear offices of peace or war; And should you doubt, pray ask of your next neighbour, When for a passport, or some other bar To freedom, he applied (a grief and a bore), If he found not his spawn of taxborn riches, Like lap-dogs, the least civil sons of b__s. But Juan was received with much 'empressement:'These phrases of refinement I must borrow From our next neighbours' land, where, like a chessman, There is a move set down for joy or sorrow Not only in mere talking, but the press. Man In islands is, it seems, downright and thorough, More than on continents- as if the sea (See Billingsgate) made even the tongue more free. And yet the British 'Damme' 's rather Attic: Your continental oaths are but incontinent, And turn on things which no aristocratic Spirit would name, and therefore even I won't anent This subject quote; as it would be schismatic In politesse, and have a sound affronting in 't:But 'Damme' 's quite ethereal, though too daringPlatonic blasphemy, the soul of swearing. For downright rudeness, ye may stay at home; For true or false politeness (and scarce that Now) you may cross the blue deep and white foamThe first the emblem (rarely though) of what You leave behind, the next of much you come To meet. However, 't is no time to chat On general topics: poems must confine Themselves to unity, like this of mine. In the great world,- which, being interpreted, Meaneth the west or worst end of a city, And about twice two thousand people bred

By no means to be very wise or witty, But to sit up while others lie in bed, And look down on the universe with pity,Juan, as an inveterate patrician, Was well received by persons of condition. He was a bachelor, which is a matter Of import both to virgin and to bride, The former's hymeneal hopes to flatter; And (should she not hold fast by love or pride) 'T is also of some moment to the latter: A rib 's a thorn in a wed gallant's side, Requires decorum, and is apt to double The horrid sin- and what 's still worse, the trouble. But Juan was a bachelor- of arts, And parts, and hearts: he danced and sung, and had An air as sentimental as Mozart's Softest of melodies; and could be sad Or cheerful, without any 'flaws or starts,' Just at the proper time; and though a lad, Had seen the world- which is a curious sight, And very much unlike what people write. Fair virgins blush'd upon him; wedded dames Bloom'd also in less transitory hues; For both commodities dwell by the Thames, The painting and the painted; youth, ceruse, Against his heart preferr'd their usual claims, Such as no gentleman can quite refuse: Daughters admired his dress, and pious mothers Inquired his income, and if he had brothers. The milliners who furnish 'drapery Misses' Throughout the season, upon speculation Of payment ere the honey-moon's last kisses Have waned into a crescent's coruscation, Thought such an opportunity as this is, Of a rich foreigner's initiation, Not to be overlook'd- and gave such credit, That future bridegrooms swore, and sigh'd, and paid it. The Blues, that tender tribe who sigh o'er sonnets, And with the pages of the last Review Line the interior of their heads or bonnets, Advanced in all their azure's highest hue: They talk'd bad French or Spanish, and upon its Late authors ask'd him for a hint or two; And which was softest, Russian or Castilian? And whether in his travels he saw Ilion? Juan, who was a little superficial, And not in literature a great Drawcansir, Examined by this learned and especial Jury of matrons, scarce knew what to answer: His duties warlike, loving or official, His steady application as a dancer, Had kept him from the brink of Hippocrene, Which now he found was blue instead of green. However, he replied at hazard, with

' Like to the champion in the fisty ring. He saw ten thousand living authors pass. Miss Araminta Smith (Who at sixteen translated 'Hercules Furens' Into as furious English). Nor sought of foolscap subjects to be kingWas reckon'd a considerable time. A modern Ancient Pistol. Which lent his learned lucubrations pith. as in Banquo's glass. He 'll find it rather difficult some day To turn out both. Even I. or as a monarch reign. However. Who shoes the glorious animal with stilts.' As every paltry magazine can show its. Sets up for being a sort of moral me. In twice five years the 'greatest living poet.and brought them up with skill. The Muses upon Sion's hill must ramble With poets almost clergymen. That prodigy. and Faliero My Leipsic. and. Nor reign at all. But Juan was my Moscow. with her best look. Set down his sayings in her common-place book. may rise again: But I will fall at least as fell my hero. Now that the Lion 's fall'n.as well He might. and was Admitted as an aspirant to all The coteries. or show it. or wholly. And Pegasus hath a psalmodic amble Beneath the very Reverend Rowley Powley. or either. At great assemblies or in parties small. but now grown more holy. And pass'd for arguments of good endurance. and my Mount Saint Jean seems Cain: 'La Belle Alliance' of dunces down at zero. Although 't is an imaginary thing. The grand Napoleon of the realms of rhyme. There wanted but this requisite to swell His qualities (with them) into sublime: Lady Fitz-Frisky.albeit I 'm sure I did not know it. and Miss Maevia Mannish. And that deep-mouth'd Boeotian 'Savage Landor' . Sir Walter reign'd before me. Moore and Campbell Before and after. who. he did pretty well. Some persons think that Coleridge hath the sway. in time To save his fame with each accomplish'd belle. Who still regretted that he did not rhyme. With turncoat Southey for my turnkey Lowe. Juan knew several languages. two or three.by the hilts? Then there 's my gentle Euphues.A modest confidence and calm assurance. it may be. Also the eighty 'greatest living poets. Both long'd extremely to be sung in Spanish. That being about their average numeral. they say. And Wordsworth has supporters. Is call'd on to support his claim. Or to some lonely isle of gaolers go.

Has taken for a swan rogue Southey's gander. Was like all business a laborious nothing That leads to lassitude. And glides away.but it is hardly worth my while With such small gear to give myself concern: Indeed I 've not the necessary bile. whom I left in deadly peril Amongst live poets and blue ladies. John Keats. were I once at home. would turn Their flanks. The sun's true son. 'T is strange the mind. I 'd try conclusions with those Janizaries.' like his who 'gathers samphire. And show them what an intellectual war is. past With some small profit through that field so sterile. and. Being tired in time. This is the literary lower empire. . His morns he pass'd in business. the most infected And Centaur Nessus garb of mortal clothing. Poor fellow! His was an untoward fate. and the twilight hour In riding round those vegetable puncheons Call'd 'Parks. My Juan. when Rome's annals wax'd but dirty. assured she never hurts ye. and in good satire. save for our country's goodWhich grows no better.' The insolent soldiery to soothe and flatter. will have the long grass grow Above his burnt-out brain. Lounging and boxing. If I might augur. Where the praetorian bands take up the matter. Much as they might have been supposed to speak.or none will know The conqueror at least. that very fiery particle. Now. without Greek Contrived to talk about the gods of late. And henceforth found himself more gaily class'd Amongst the higher spirits of the day.which.. And then she drops a brief and modern curtsy. If not intelligible. but a ray. The list grows long of live and dead pretenders To that which none will gain. I should rate but low Their chances. and sapless cinders. And on our sofas makes us lie dejected. though 't is time it should. no vapour. His afternoons he pass'd in visits. My natural temper 's really aught but stern.' where there is neither fruit nor flower Enough to gratify a bee's slight munchings. neither least nor last. they 're too numerous. like the thirty Mock tyrants. With the same feelings as you 'd coax a vampire. Left it before he had been treated very ill. ere Time renders His last award. who was kill'd off by one critique. luncheons. who.A 'dreadful trade. Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article. dissected. I think I know a trick or two. Just as he really promised something great. And even my Muse's worst reproof 's a smile. And talk in tender horrors of our loathing All kinds of toil.

But after all it is the only 'bower' (In Moore's phrase). or a mere spectator. and ward. The only dance which teaches girls to think. The ghost of vanish'd pleasures once in vogue! Ill Can tender souls relate the rise and fall Of hopes and fears which shake a single ball. But. Makes one in love even with its very faults. ye ambrosial moments! always upper In mind. then along the floor Chalk mimics painting. Or proudlier prancing with mercurial skill Where Science marshals forth her own quadrille. Which sits for ever upon memory's crupper. then whirl the wheels. there the waltz. Must steer with care through all that glittering sea Of gems and plumes and pearls and silks. Thrice happy he who. then dinner. Dissolving in the waltz to some soft air. hall. But this won't do. and he Who. get next at supper. whose plans a word too much . Where he may fix himself like small 'Jack Horner. then roar Through street and square fast flashing chariots hurl'd Like harness'd meteors. after a survey Of the good company. if forestalled. get opposite and ogle:Oh. But these precautionary hints can touch Only the common run. Which opens to the thousand happy few An earthly paradise of 'Or Molu. then awakes the world! Then glare the lamps. Amongst a people famous for reflection. Or. A door that's in or boudoir out of the way. And watch. if he dance not. And long the latest of arrivals halts.' And let the Babel round run as it may. And look on as a mourner. then festoons are twirl'd. nor shall sink With the three-thousandth curtsy. room. o'erflow beyond their brink.' There stands the noble hostess. And gain an inch of staircase at a time. but hath higher views Upon an heiress or his neighbour's bride. if you can contrive. 'Midst royal dukes and dames condemn'd to climb. Who like to play the fool with circumspection. Full many an eager gentleman oft rues His haste: impatience is a blundering guide. Let him take care that that which he pursues Is not at once too palpably descried. Then dress. like Don Juan. takes an active share. Or an approver. to where He deems it is his proper place to be. Yawning a little as the night grows later. or a scorner. Or. who must pursue. can win a corner. Saloon. Then roll the brazen thunders of the door. save by and by. where the fashionable fair Can form a slight acquaintance with fresh air. a sort of sentimental bogle.

Or fame. queens. and whored. The family vault receives another lord.it is anticipated. Where 's Whitbread? Romilly? Where 's George the Third? Where is his will? (That 's not so soon unriddled. Where 's Long Pole Wellesley? Diddled. to Scotland to be fiddled Unto by Sawney's violin. all are gone on the wind's wings. our 'royal bird?' Gone down. Their vigour in a thousand arms is dissipated. And dandies. Our hero.'Where The world in which a man was born? 'Alas! Where is the world of eight years past? 'T was thereI look for it. vanish'd.and London hisses? Where are the Grenvilles? Turn'd as usual. Both senates see their nightly votes participated Between the tyrant's and the tribunes' crew. all those Who bound the bar or senate in their spell? Where is the unhappy Queen. They are young.oh. it seems. and remarried (this is An evolution oft performed of late). Noble.'t is gone. where the devil are the rents? Where 's Brummel? Dish'd. Where is Napoleon the Grand? God knows. war. Where is Lord This? And where my Lady That? The Honourable Mistresses and Misses? Some laid aside like an old Opera hat. Some Talk about poetry. as a hero. rich without a sou. Permits whate'er they please. especially if new. for wit. their wealth goes to a Jew.' And ugliness. scarcely gazed on. disease. caw thee'. at eighty. shiver'd. Where little Castlereagh? The devil can tell: Where Grattan. but know not youth. Married. celebrated. Before he can escape from so much danger As will environ a conspicuous man. we have heard: 'Caw me.for six months hath been hatching This scene of royal itch and loyal scratching. unmarried. And having voted. and a stranger. whom the Isles loved well? Where are those martyr'd saints the Five per Cents? And where.Or little overturns. rich. Handsome but wasted. as toil and trouble. 'Where is the world?' cries Young. patriots. a globe of glass! Crack'd. dined. Where My friends the Whigs? Exactly where they were. or did not long since. Curran. young and handsome. Where are the Dublin shouts. Like other slaves of course must pay his ransom. or nonsense. sense. and not the few Or many (for the number's sometimes such) Whom a good mien. or name. Where are the Lady Carolines and Franceses? . kings. with all her woes? And where the Daughter.) And where is 'Fum' the Fourth. Their cash comes from. Sheridan. ere A silent change dissolves the glittering mass. and 'rack and manger.I wish they knew the life of a young noble. Statesmen. drunk. chiefs. gamed. orators.

and then caress'd.Divorced or doing thereanent. If that can well be.I have seen. Talk not of seventy years as age. I have seen small poets.then 'play out the play. where the list of routs and dances is. Some who once set their caps at cautious dukes. be cautious.speakersI have seen the funds at war with house and landI have seen the country gentlemen turn squeakersI have seen the people ridden o'er like sand By slaves on horseback.'. I have seen a Duke (No matter which) turn politician stupider.' And sail for a new theme:. but something strange is The unusual quickness of these common changes. in seven I have seen more changes. There 's little strange in this. the list of alterations bothers. I knew that nought was lasting. Because the times have hardly left them one tenant.But 'carpe diem. I have seen the Landholders without a rapI have seen Joanna Southcote. But it is time that I should hoist my 'blue Peter.I have seen malt liquors Exchanged for 'thin potations' by John BullI have seen john half detect himself a fool. I have seen Napoleon. Than might suffice a moderate century through.I have seenThe House of Commons turn'd to a tax-trapI have seen that sad affair of the late QueenI have seen crowns worn instead of a fool's capI have seen a Congress doing all that 's meanI have seen some nations like o'erloaded asses Kick off their burthens.Thou Morning Post. Have taken up at length with younger brothers: Some heiresses have bit at sharpers' hooks: Some maids have been made wives.' Juan.say what streams now fill those channels? Some die.and shook To see it. sole record of the panels Broken in carriages. and Interminable.. meaning the high classes. 'Life 's a poor player. Ye annals So brilliant. some merely mothers. Except the Whigs not getting into place. some languish on the Continent. without being new: Nought 's permanent among the human race. and all the phantasies Of fashion. and great prosers. but now even Change grows too changeable. some fly. But don't pretend to settle which was best. Ye villains!' above all keep a sharp eye Much less on what you do than what you say: Be hypocritical. and devour'd by the same harpy. who seem'd quite a Jupiter.the king hiss'd. Shrink to a Saturn. Others have lost their fresh and fairy looks: In short. than his wooden look. 'carpe. down from monarchs to The humblest individual under heaven.not eternal. be . carpe!' To-morrow sees another race as gay And transient.

But would not change my free thoughts for a throne. Ne'er doubt This. but speak out. it is. But 't is as well at once to understand. Though every scribe. For being too excursive in his homages. in some slight turn of diction. with of course the due restriction Which is required by proper courtesy.Or whether he was taken in for damages. although 't were late to wive. But how shall I relate in other cantos Of what befell our hero in the land. that epoch is a bore: Love lingers still. which I will back Against the same given quantity of rhyme. and we are not what we were. OF all the barbarous middle ages.when I speak. To herd with boys. You are not a moral people. Whether he married with the third or fourth Offspring of some sage husband-hunting countess. and you know it Without the aid of too sincere a poet. Which 't is the common cry and lie to vaunt as A moral country? But I hold my handFor I disdain to write an Atalantis. thou lay. But when we hover between fool and sage. CANTO_THE_TWELFTH CANTO THE TWELFTH. Or whether with some virgin of more worth (I mean in Fortune's matrimonial bounties) He took to regularly peopling Earth. at thirty-five. Of which your lawful awful wedlock fount is. I don't hint. And as for other love. But since they are. . What Juan saw and underwent shall be My topic. And that I sing of neither mine nor me. Thus far. that most pure imagination. go forth.Is yet within the unread events of time.I may stand alone. And don't know justly what we would be atA period something like a printed page. the illusion 's o'er. that Which is most barbarous is the middle age Of man. or hoard with good threescore. By those who love to say that white is black. Will hint allusions never meant.I really scarce know what. And recollect the work is only fiction. Black letter upon foolscap. Gleams only through the dawn of its creation.Not what you seem. O Gold! Why call we misers miserable? Theirs is the pleasure that can never pall. while our hair Grows grizzled.. So much the better!.Too old for youth.too young.I wonder people should be left alive. but always what you see. And money. For being as much the subject of attack As ever yet was any work sublime.

The gamester's counter. And scorn his temperate board. the ship From Ceylon. O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper. and the truly liberal Lafitte. Ye who but see the saving man at table. But seats a nation or upsets a throne. of which mere hopes allure Nations athwart the deep: the golden rays Flash up in ingots from the mine obscure. Possess'd. Which makes bank credit like a bank of vapour. to soothe the miser's eyes. displays.the intellectual lord of all. The lands on either side are his. as none at all.passion. Columbia's stock hath holders not unknown On 'Change. Love or lust makes man sick. and even thy silver soil. then quicker. or the statesman's dross. His very cellars might be kings' abodes. you 'll say. Commands.Theirs is the best bower anchor.. both old and new. While he.) Who keep the world. beats love or liquor. While the mild emerald's beam shades down the dies Of other stones. And adding still a little through each cross (Which will come over things). Baring. in pain Or pleasure? Who make politics run glibber all? The shade of Buonaparte's noble daring?Jew Rothschild.Then there 's more merit in his self-denial. Who hold the balance of the world? Who reign O'er congress. and his fellow-Christian. and wine much sicker. the ore. Beneath his cars of Ceres groan the roads. Which in a saint or cynic ever was The theme of praise: a hermit would not miss Canonization for the self-same cause. or far Cathay. the chain cable Which holds fast other pleasures great and small. Why call the miser miserable? as I said before: the frugal life is his. pure And sparkling on from heap to heap. And wonder how the wealthy can be sparing. Republics also get involved a bit. slowly first. . Are the true lords of Europe. Peru. despising every sensual call. nought calls for such a trial. Those. On him the diamond pours its brilliant blaze. Must get itself discounted by a Jew. And the vine blushes like Aurora's lip. And wherefore blame gaunt wealth's austerities? Because. Every loan Is not a merely speculative hit. unloads For him the fragrant produce of each trip. Inde. and gaming gains a loss. whether royalist or liberal? Who rouse the shirtless patriots of Spain? (That make old Europe's journals squeak and gibber all. But making money. He is your only poet. Ambition rends. Know not what visions spring from each cheese-paring.

bags of dollars. and fells it too besides. So celebrated for his morals.. A hospital. revels.' and 'grove. The fool will call such mania a disease:What is his own? Go.who 's wiser? How beauteous are rouleaus! how charming chests Containing ingots. Now if the 'court.so sings the bard. and Cash alone: Cash rules the grove. Cash does. a church.' but I 'm prepared To doubt (no less than landlords of their rental) If 'courts' and 'camps' be quite so sentimental. and should ever.'for love Is heaven.' So Cash rules Love the ruler. But whether all. Malthus tells you. on his own High ground. and heaven is love:'. Of modern. 'Love rules the camp. Without cash. or each. or to found a race. reigning.' be not Recruited all with constant married men. and courts were none. Who never coveted their neighbour's lot.and leave behind Some dome surmounted by his meagre face: Perhaps he fain would liberate mankind Even with the very ore which makes them base. but somehow people never With the same thought the two words have help'd out: Love may exist with marriage. Wars. the grove. To build a college. loves.' why not say honey Is wax? Heaven is not Love. Or revel in the joys of calculation. Without cash. stupid stamp:Yes! ready money is Aladdin's lamp. which the glittering cirque confines. 't is Matrimony. sterling. or none of these May be the hoarder's principle of action. as virgin Cynthia sways the tides: And as for Heaven 'Heaven being Love. Is not all love prohibited whatever.' and 'camp.Strange too in my 'buon camerado' Scott. no doubt.do these bring men more ease Than the mere plodding through each 'vulgar fraction'? Or do they benefit mankind? Lean miser! Let spendthrifts' heirs enquire of yours. camps were thin. But if Love don't. After a sort. Excepting marriage? which is love. when .'take no brides. Which it were rather difficult to prove (A thing with poetry in general hard). coins (Not of old victors. And ought to go by quite another name. I say that line 's a lapsus of the pen.' At least it rhymes to 'love.'. where dully rests Some likeness. And marriage also may exist without.look at each transaction. But love sans bans is both a sin and shame.Perhaps he hath great projects in his mind. all whose heads and crests Weigh not the thin ore where their visage shines. Perhaps there may be something in 'the grove. Perhaps he would be wealthiest of his nation. the court. But) of fine unclipt gold.

or future clay. it need not now be pleadedWhate'er it was.To me seems but a dubious kind of reed To lean on for support in any way. The only time when much success is needed: And my success produced what I. the good old Greek the lie. in sooth. Which can await warm youth in its wild race. Cared most about. If that politeness set it not apart. with Greek truth. Good people all. And Mitford in the nineteenth century Gives. I 've paid.. But I 'm resolved to say nought that 's amiss)I say. While Wellington has but enslaved the Whites.My Jeffrey held him up as an example To me.and so are you. I think that 'Philo-genitiveness' is (Now here 's a word quite after my own heart. Of late the penalty of such success. And Malthus does the thing 'gainst which he writes. That 's noble! That 's romantic! For my part. Since odds are that posterity will know No more of them. of every degree. That suit in Chancery. Though there 's a shorter a good deal than this. And why should I not form my speculation. I 'm serious. And now to business.the last set free The Negroes and is worth a million fighters. in truth. And that 's enough. The tenth or twentieth name would be but blunder'd. I 'm posterity. Baptize posterity. But have not learn'd to wish it any less. Ye gentle readers and ungentle writers. ..of whom these morals are a sample. While sages write against all procreation..so are all men upon paper. I trow.O my gentle Juan. Unless a man can calculate his means Of feeding brats the moment his wife weans. I have succeeded. And 'gainst those few your annalists have thunder'd. than they of her. In this twelfth Canto 't is my wish to be As serious as if I had for inditers Malthus and Wilberforce:.which some persons plead In an appeal to the unborn. Thou art in London. if I don't succeed.in that pleasant place. Even Plutarch's Lives have but pick'd out a few. Were every memory written down all true. 't was mine. And hold up to the sun my little taper? Mankind just now seem wrapt in mediation On constitutions and steam-boats of vapour. Well. succeeded in my youth. In the faith of their procreative creed. Where every kind of mischief 's daily brewing. And whom do we remember? Not a hundred. whom they. methinks that 'Philo-genitiveness' Might meet from men a little more forgiveness. Why.

' Above the ice had like a skater glided: When tired of play. about Leila's education. What with a small diversity of climate. still I must accuse you all Of being apt to talk at a great rate. And far away. Think not. And then there was a general competition.' Juan. that thy career is not a new one. that I mean to abuse you allI have always liked you better than I state: Since I 've grown moral. three. 'Paulo Majora. 't was that a young child of grace. with her orient eyes. And now there was a general sensation Amongst you. Thou art no novice in the headlong chase Of early life. he flirted without sin With some of those fair creatures who have prided Themselves on innocent tantalisation. the last bud of her race. ending (if you note it) With the kind world's amen.'T is true. Who think that novelties are butterflies To be pursued as food for inanition).'Who would have thought it?' The little Leila.as is usual Amongst the sex in little things or great. So first there was a generous emulation. Of hot or cold. which shows That even the purest people may mistake Their way through virtue's primrose paths of snows. mercurial or sedate. or two years' space. which the Muse may penetrate. But these are few. Her charming figure and romantic history Became a kind of fashionable mystery. as if a new ass spake To Balaam. To the surprise of people of condition. four. And taciturn Asiatic disposition (Which saw all western things with small surprise. But I am sick of politics. I could send forth my mandate like a primate Upon the rest of Europe's social state.and You had reason. In one point only were you settled. And hate all vice except its reputation. Which foreigners can never understand. And then men stare. and from tongue to ear o'erflows Quicksilver small talk. Great Britain. but this is a new land. . fair creatures. and in the end they make Some devilish escapade or stir. The women much divided. Begin. undecided Amongst the paths of being 'taken in. But thou art the most difficult to rhyme at. All countries have their 'Lions. Would be much better taught beneath the eye Of peeresses whose follies had run dry.' but in the There is but one superb menagerie. Howe'er our friend Don Juan might command Himself for five. As beautiful as her own native land.

or writes. until her turn arrives.' Than their he relatives). married dames will now and then discover Such pure disinterestedness of passion. The watchful mothers. and hearts. But sixteen dowagers. 'T is fine to see them scattering refusals And wild dismay o'er every angry cousin (Friends of the party). like flies o'er candy Buzz round 'the Fortune' with their busy battery. Each out-at-elbow peer.he has enough without: The time will come she 'll wish that she had snatch'd So good an opportunity. object of these cares. each cousin. why did she accord perusals To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why. It soothes the awkward squad of the rejected To find how very badly she selected. are more handy At making matches. Has cause to wish her sire had had male heirs. I pray. that like virgin honey Tastes their first season (mostly if they have money). Fred really was attach'd. and some reject three dozen. To turn her head with waltzing and with flattery! Each aunt. As I 'll tell Aurea at to-morrow's rout: And after all poor Frederick may do betterPray did you see her answer to his letter?' Smart uniforms and sparkling coronets Are spurn'd in turn.'For that 's the phrase that settles all things now. and bets Upon the sweepstakes for substantial wives. when clever. who begin accusals. where ''t is gold that glisters. As Juan was a person of condition. hath her speculation. Whose tale belongs to 'Hallam's Middle Ages. and the careful sisters (Who. . no doubt:But the old marchioness some plan had hatch'd. And when at last the pretty creature gets Some gentleman. or drives. or desperate dandy. Nay.To undertake the orphan's education.' And one or two sad.Why?.Besides. who fights. Meaning a virgin's first blush at a rout. Some are soon bagg'd. by the by. without A fruit to bloom upon their withering boughBegg'd to bring up the little girl and 'out. whose outlet 's 'Dover!' While the poor rich wretch. It had been an affront on this occasion To talk of a subscription or petition. After male loss of time.'Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen Poor Frederick. 'Tantaene!' Such the virtues of high station. Such as. 'T was not her fortune. How all the needy honourable misters. And all her points as thorough-bred to show: And I assure you. and yet say no to-day? 'Why?. I 've known them court an heiress for their lover. separate wives. Even in the hopeful Isle. ten unwed she sages. Look yes last night.

For sometimes they accept some long pursuer, Worn out with importunity; or fall (But here perhaps the instances are fewer) To the lot of him who scarce pursued at all. A hazy widower turn'd of forty 's sure (If 't is not vain examples to recall) To draw a high prize: now, howe'er he got her, I See nought more strange in this than t' other lottery. I, for my part (one 'modern instance' more, 'True, 't is a pity- pity 't is, 't is true'), Was chosen from out an amatory score, Albeit my years were less discreet than few; But though I also had reform'd before Those became one who soon were to be two, I 'll not gainsay the generous public's voice, That the young lady made a monstrous choice. Oh, pardon my digression- or at least Peruse! 'T is always with a moral end That I dissert, like grace before a feast: For like an aged aunt, or tiresome friend, A rigid guardian, or a zealous priest, My Muse by exhortation means to mend All people, at all times, and in most places, Which puts my Pegasus to these grave paces. But now I 'm going to be immoral; now I mean to show things really as they are, Not as they ought to be: for I avow, That till we see what 's what in fact, we 're far From much improvement with that virtuous plough Which skims the surface, leaving scarce a scar Upon the black loam long manured by Vice, Only to keep its corn at the old price. But first of little Leila we 'll dispose; For like a day-dawn she was young and pure, Or like the old comparison of snows, Which are more pure than pleasant to be sure. Like many people everybody knows, Don Juan was delighted to secure A goodly guardian for his infant charge, Who might not profit much by being at large. Besides, he had found out he was no tutor (I wish that others would find out the same); And rather wish'd in such things to stand neuter, For silly wards will bring their guardians blame: So when he saw each ancient dame a suitor To make his little wild Asiatic tame, Consulting 'the Society for Vice Suppression,' Lady Pinchbeck was his choice. Olden she was- but had been very young; Virtuous she was- and had been, I believe; Although the world has such an evil tongue That- but my chaster ear will not receive An echo of a syllable that 's wrong: In fact, there 's nothing makes me so much grieve,

As that abominable tittle-tattle, Which is the cud eschew'd by human cattle. Moreover I 've remark'd (and I was once A slight observer in a modest way), And so may every one except a dunce, That ladies in their youth a little gay, Besides their knowledge of the world, and sense Of the sad consequence of going astray, Are wiser in their warnings 'gainst the woe Which the mere passionless can never know. While the harsh prude indemnifies her virtue By railing at the unknown and envied passion, Seeking far less to save you than to hurt you, Or, what 's still worse, to put you out of fashion,The kinder veteran with calm words will court you, Entreating you to pause before you dash on; Expounding and illustrating the riddle Of epic Love's beginning, end, and middle. Now whether it be thus, or that they are stricter, As better knowing why they should be so, I think you 'll find from many a family picture, That daughters of such mothers as may know The world by experience rather than by lecture, Turn out much better for the Smithfield Show Of vestals brought into the marriage mart, Than those bred up by prudes without a heart. I said that Lady Pinchbeck had been talk'd aboutAs who has not, if female, young, and pretty? But now no more the ghost of Scandal stalk'd about; She merely was deem'd amiable and witty, And several of her best bon-mots were hawk'd about: Then she was given to charity and pity, And pass'd (at least the latter years of life) For being a most exemplary wife. High in high circles, gentle in her own, She was the mild reprover of the young, Whenever- which means every day- they 'd shown An awkward inclination to go wrong. The quantity of good she did 's unknown, Or at the least would lengthen out my song: In brief, the little orphan of the East Had raised an interest in her, which increased. Juan, too, was a sort of favourite with her, Because she thought him a good heart at bottom, A little spoil'd, but not so altogether; Which was a wonder, if you think who got him, And how he had been toss'd, he scarce knew whither: Though this might ruin others, it did not him, At least entirely- for he had seen too many Changes in youth, to be surprised at any. And these vicissitudes tell best in youth; For when they happen at a riper age, People are apt to blame the Fates, forsooth, And wonder Providence is not more sage.

Adversity is the first path to truth: He who hath proved war, storm, or woman's rage, Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty, Hath won the experience which is deem'd so weighty. How far it profits is another matter.Our hero gladly saw his little charge Safe with a lady, whose last grown-up daughter Being long married, and thus set at large, Had left all the accomplishments she taught her To be transmitted, like the Lord Mayor's barge, To the next comer; or- as it will tell More Muse-like- like to Cytherea's shell. I call such things transmission; for there is A floating balance of accomplishment Which forms a pedigree from Miss to Miss, According as their minds or backs are bent. Some waltz; some draw; some fathom the abyss Of metaphysics; others are content With music; the most moderate shine as wits; While others have a genius turn'd for fits. But whether fits, or wits, or harpsichords, Theology, fine arts, or finer stays, May be the baits for gentlemen or lords With regular descent, in these our days, The last year to the new transfers its hoards; New vestals claim men's eyes with the same praise Of 'elegant' et caetera, in fresh batchesAll matchless creatures, and yet bent on matches. But now I will begin my poem. 'T is Perhaps a little strange, if not quite new, That from the first of Cantos up to this I 've not begun what we have to go through. These first twelve books are merely flourishes, Preludios, trying just a string or two Upon my lyre, or making the pegs sure; And when so, you shall have the overture. My Muses do not care a pinch of rosin About what 's call'd success, or not succeeding: Such thoughts are quite below the strain they have chosen; 'T is a 'great moral lesson' they are reading. I thought, at setting off, about two dozen Cantos would do; but at Apollo's pleading, If that my Pegasus should not be founder'd, I think to canter gently through a hundred. Don Juan saw that microcosm on stilts, Yclept the Great World; for it is the least, Although the highest: but as swords have hilts By which their power of mischief is increased, When man in battle or in quarrel tilts, Thus the low world, north, south, or west, or east, Must still obey the high- which is their handle, Their moon, their sun, their gas, their farthing candle. He had many friends who had many wives, and was Well look'd upon by both, to that extent

Of friendship which you may accept or pass, It does nor good nor harm being merely meant To keep the wheels going of the higher class, And draw them nightly when a ticket 's sent: And what with masquerades, and fetes, and balls, For the first season such a life scarce palls. A young unmarried man, with a good name And fortune, has an awkward part to play; For good society is but a game, 'The royal game of Goose,' as I may say, Where every body has some separate aim, An end to answer, or a plan to layThe single ladies wishing to be double, The married ones to save the virgins trouble. I don't mean this as general, but particular Examples may be found of such pursuits: Though several also keep their perpendicular Like poplars, with good principles for roots; Yet many have a method more reticular'Fishers for men,' like sirens with soft lutes: For talk six times with the same single lady, And you may get the wedding dresses ready. Perhaps you 'll have a letter from the mother, To say her daughter's feelings are trepann'd; Perhaps you 'll have a visit from the brother, All strut, and stays, and whiskers, to demand What 'your intentions are?'- One way or other It seems the virgin's heart expects your hand: And between pity for her case and yours, You 'll add to Matrimony's list of cures. I 've known a dozen weddings made even thus, And some of them high names: I have also known Young men who- though they hated to discuss Pretensions which they never dream'd to have shownYet neither frighten'd by a female fuss, Nor by mustachios moved, were let alone, And lived, as did the broken-hearted fair, In happier plight than if they form'd a pair. There 's also nightly, to the uninitiated, A peril- not indeed like love or marriage, But not the less for this to be depreciated: It is- I meant and mean not to disparage The show of virtue even in the vitiatedIt adds an outward grace unto their carriageBut to denounce the amphibious sort of harlot, 'Couleur de rose,' who 's neither white nor scarlet. Such is your cold coquette, who can't say 'No,' And won't say 'Yes,' and keeps you on and off-ing On a lee-shore, till it begins to blowThen sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward scoffing. This works a world of sentimental woe, And sends new Werters yearly to their coffin; But yet is merely innocent flirtation, Not quite adultery, but adulteration.

'Ye gods, I grow a talker!' Let us prate. The next of perils, though I place it sternest, Is when, without regard to 'church or state,' A wife makes or takes love in upright earnest. Abroad, such things decide few women's fate(Such, early traveller! is the truth thou learnest)But in old England, when a young bride errs, Poor thing! Eve's was a trifling case to hers. For 't is a low, newspaper, humdrum, lawsuit Country, where a young couple of the same ages Can't form a friendship, but the world o'erawes it. Then there 's the vulgar trick of those d__d damages! A verdict- grievous foe to those who cause it!Forms a sad climax to romantic homages; Besides those soothing speeches of the pleaders, And evidences which regale all readers. But they who blunder thus are raw beginners; A little genial sprinkling of hypocrisy Has saved the fame of thousand splendid sinners, The loveliest oligarchs of our gynocracy; You may see such at all the balls and dinners, Among the proudest of our aristocracy, So gentle, charming, charitable, chasteAnd all by having tact as well as taste. Juan, who did not stand in the predicament Of a mere novice, had one safeguard more; For he was sick- no, 't was not the word sick I meantBut he had seen so much love before, That he was not in heart so very weak;- I meant But thus much, and no sneer against the shore Of white cliffs, white necks, blue eyes, bluer stockings, Tithes, taxes, duns, and doors with double knockings. But coming young from lands and scenes romantic, Where lives, not lawsuits, must be risk'd for Passion, And Passion's self must have a spice of frantic, Into a country where 't is half a fashion, Seem'd to him half commercial, half pedantic, Howe'er he might esteem this moral nation: Besides (alas! his taste- forgive and pity!) At first he did not think the women pretty. I say at first- for he found out at last, But by degrees, that they were fairer far Than the more glowing dames whose lot is cast Beneath the influence of the eastern star. A further proof we should not judge in haste; Yet inexperience could not be his bar To taste:- the truth is, if men would confess, That novelties please less than they impress. Though travell'd, I have never had the luck to Trace up those shuffling negroes, Nile or Niger, To that impracticable place, Timbuctoo, Where Geography finds no one to oblige her With such a chart as may be safely stuck toFor Europe ploughs in Afric like 'bos piger:'

to give the devil his due. Or say they are like virtuous mermaids.but I 'm right. But I 'm relapsing into metaphysics.' It is a very serious thing indeed: Nine times in ten 't is but caprice or fashion. prithee try) She keeps it for you like a true ally. the best judge. But I suspect in fact that white is black. That labyrinth. And this reflection brings me to plain physics. and what seest thou? A dubious spark. or a wish to take the lead. is not so fit to warble those bravuras (which I still am learning To like.But though the soil may give you time and trouble. Like Russians rushing from hot baths to snows Are they. and some ice. Those polar summers. Nor in her eye Ausonia's glance is burning. Than storms it as a foe would take a city. whose Beginnings are fair faces. though I have been seven years in Italy. . nor one or two Others. Ask a blind man. though sweet. But this has nought to do with their outsides. all sun. Coquetry. Nor settles all things in one interview (A thing approved as saving time and toil). a plunge into remorse. Or Andalusian girl from mass returning.But if I had been at Timbuctoo. but keep of course. It is. there No doubt I should be told that black is fair. whose clue is of the same Construction as your cures for hectic phthisics. at bottom virtuous even when vicious: They warm into a scrape. Nor wear as gracefully as Gauls her garb. And have. Nor is she quite so ready with her smile. Her voice. And to the beauties of a foreign dame. or had. but all is dark Within. But once there (if you doubt this. I said that Juan did not think them pretty At the first blush.She cannot do these things. ends mere fishes. Those bright moths fluttering round a dying flame. for a fair Briton hides Half her attractions. And if in fact she takes to a 'grande passion. You 'll attack Perhaps this new position. Well cultivated.Not that there 's not a quantity of those Who have a due respect for their own wishes. Or if I 'm wrong. I will not swear that black is white. Compared with those of our pure pearls of price. it will render double. As a reserve. And the whole matter rests upon eyesight. She cannot step as does an Arab barb. in that off-hand and dashing style Which takes so much. I 'll not be ta'en aback:He hath no morn nor night.probably from pityAnd rather calmly into the heart glides. an ear that served me prettily).

By rendering desperate those who had else repented. Or wish to make a rival's bosom bleed: But the tenth instance will be a tornado.it is the people's trust. and Chatham gone. Society.as they call That lady. you 'll never bind it By all the laws the strictest lawyer pleads.The pride of a mere child with a new sash on. as do the Parias. he had not seen of several hundred A lady altogether to his mind. To hear debates whose thunder roused (not rouses) The world to gaze upon those northern lights Which flash'd as far as where the musk-bull browses. I leave the matter where I find it. They lose their caste at once. 'T is not mere splendour makes the show august To eye or heart. Perhaps this is as it should be.but upon this I leave the saints to settle their own score. Though despots know it not. That noble sight. He also had been busy seeing sightsThe Parliament and all the other houses. And as for chastity. An erring woman finds an opener door For her return to Virtue. To sit amidst the ruins of their guilt: For Fame 's a Carthage not so soon rebuilt.it is A comment on the Gospel's 'Sin no more. The reason 's obvious. however. . But Juan was no casuist. that his heart had got a tougher rind: And though not vainer from his past success. at the closing session. the prince of princes at the time. that china without flaw (The hypocrite!). Knowing that such uneasy virtue leads People some ten times less in fact to mind it. And be thy sins forgiven:'.till the progression Of freedom shall complete their education. He saw. And when the delicacies of the law Have fill'd their papers with their comments various. Abroad. He had also stood at times behind the throneBut Grey was not arrived. For there 's no saying what they will or may do. But aggravate the crime you have not prevented. who should be at home to all. will banish them like Marius. when really free the nation.'t is not to be wonder'd At. There. A king in constitutional possession Of such a throne as is the proudest station. For me. too. if there 's an eclat. Had sat beneath the gallery at nights. A little 'blase'. he saw (whate'er he may be now) A Prince. No doubt his sensibilities were less.. And care but for discoveries and not deeds. though doubtless they do much amiss. nor had ponder'd Upon the moral lessons of mankind: Besides.

And if my thunderbolt not always rattles. Exposed him. and where. Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious. not mine: a real spirit Should neither court neglect. My plan (but I. Though royalty was written on his brow. save one on astronomy.it is time. You 'll find it of a different construction From what some people say 't will be when done: The plan at present 's simply in concoction. without alloy of fop or beau. I 'm afraid. read all the national debt-sinkers. to temptation. if but for singularity. And as my object is morality (Whatever people say). Is not to be put hastily together. CANTO_THE_THIRTEENTH CANTO THE THIRTEENTH. A jest at Vice by Virtue 's call'd a crime. reader. Meantime. reader! you have had before The worst of tempests and the best of battles That e'er were brew'd from elements or gore. nor dread to bear it. the sad 's a source of the sublime. and when.. And critically held as deleterious: Besides. as the spring of prime.With fascination in his very bow. I can't oblige you. to read on. And tell me what you think of your great thinkers. But what. Even though himself avoided the occasion.Heaven knows what else: An usurer could scarce expect much moreBut my best canto. That 's your affair. It grows an act of patriotic charity. . When the body of the book 's begun. Reserve it) will be very sure to take. rare in every clime. Will turn upon 'political economy. And full of promise. as hath been said.' That is your present theme for popularity: Now that the public hedge hath scarce a stake. He had then the grace. I don't know whether I 'll leave a single reader's eyelid dry. too. To show the people the best way to break. And hew out a huge monument of pathos. Besides the mark'd distinction of his air. with whom. As Philip's son proposed to do with Athos. But harrow up his feelings till they wither. A finish'd gentleman from top to toe. I NOW mean to be serious. Of being. And Juan was received. as was natural. and why. Into the best society: and there Occurr'd what often happens. Here the twelfth Canto of our introduction Ends. However disciplined and debonnaire:The talent and good humour he display'd. Remember. Besides the most sublime of.

should perceive there 's a plain woman. In Britain. and we walk in wisdom's ways. and reform. 'he liked an honest hater!'The only truth that yet has been confest Within these latest thousand years or later. the great moralist. Much in the mode of Goethe's Mephistopheles. Is no great matter. But neither love nor hate in much excess. Reluctant as all placemen to resign Their post. For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line: But then they have their claret and Madeira To irrigate the dryness of decline. but they detest at leisure.Although when long a little apt to weary us. Men love in haste. It is because I cannot well do less. so 't is in request. And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn. but theirs is merely a chimera. Peace. by those who wander still Along the last fields of that Gothic ground) Was high-born. for their solace sent. I know that some would fain postpone this era. If I sneer sometimes. The Lady Adeline Amundeville ('T is an old Norman name. Instead of love. The fair sex should be always fair. Till thirty. that awkward corner turn'd for days More quiet. 'T is nonsense to dispute about a hueThe kindest may be taken as a test.which of course true patriots find The goodliest soil of body and of mind. and to be found In pedigrees. it is not my cue. As an old temple dwindled to a column. that 't is time to give the younger place. Because indifference begins to lull Our passions. I 'll leave them to their taste. war. We may presume to criticise or praise. wealthy by her father's will. when our moon 's no more at full. And is there not religion. that mere hallucination? Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure. . And county meetings. And after that serene and somewhat dull Epoch. profess'd. and no man. the taxes. and the parliament. And beauteous. And gaze where'er the palace or the hovel is. and what 's call'd the 'Nation'? The struggle to be pilots in a storm? The landed and the monied speculation? The joys of mutual hate to keep them warm. I am but a mere spectator. Rough Johnson. I 'll not gainsay them. even where beauties most abound. no doubt the best: An eye 's an eye. And debt. Perhaps the fine old fellow spoke in jest:For my part. and what not. Though 't was not once so. Also because the figure and the face Hint. Right honestly. and whether black or blue.

Fame through thin and thick sought! And Socrates himself but Wisdom's Quixote? Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away. And still pursues the right. I 'm 'at my old lunes'. I tell the tale as it is told. And caught them. Cool.. the glass of all that 's fair. Was the Queen-Bee. Although she was not evil nor meant ill.. to detraction's desperation. and women dumb. The world gave ground before her bright array. Of all tales 't is the saddest. Whose charms made all men speak. Chaste was she. a riddle. A jest. and such was reckon'd. . in that too true tale Of Quixote.to curb the bad His only object. It chanced some diplomatical relations. Was dearly purchased by his land's perdition. I should be very willing to redress Men's wrongs. While Romance could charm.. imperturbable. Proud of himself and her: the world could tell Nought against either. shown how all such efforts fail. and quite English. A single laugh demolish'd the right arm Of his own country. And wedded unto one she had loved wellA man known in the councils of the nation. The fair most fatal Juan ever met. revenging wrong. he in his hauteur. Sweet Adeline. amidst the gay world's hum. Opposing singly the united strong. Because it makes us smile: his hero 's right. And therefore have his volumes done such harm. nor dare To venture a solution: 'Davus sum!' And now I will proceed upon the pair. The last 's a miracle. Be for mere fancy's sport a theme creative. That all their glory.and more sad.seldom since that day Has Spain had heroes. And since that time there has not been a second. methinks? But I 'm not OEdipus.what do they not catch. From foreign yoke to free the helpless native:Alas! must noblest views.digression. and life 's a Sphinx. and both seem'd secureShe in her virtue. But Destiny and Passion spread the net (Fate is a good excuse for our own will). Redressing injury. like an old song. Had not Cervantes. Though apt to act with fire upon occasion. as a composition. and rather check than punish crimes. and 'gainst odds to fight His guerdon: 't is his virtue makes him mad! But his adventures form a sorry sight.And now and then it also suits my rhymes. To aid the damsel and destroy the caitiff. A sorrier still is the great moral taught By that real epic unto all who have thought. and forget The Lady Adeline Amundeville.

And reconciled all qualities which grace man. Which knows no ebb to its imperious flow. Which mortals generously would divide. And greatly shone whenever there had been a stir. Sempronius. if proved. only learn to nerve it. the little or the great. By bidding others carry while they ride. having been himself a minister: He liked to teach that which he had been taught. vast efforts without paining. O'er Juan he could no distinction claim. So that few members kept the house up later.when once his judgment was Determined. like a racer.the mere ague still Of men's regard. Though oft well founded. which ends In making men what courtesy calls friends. At least they think so. . and no less aversions. 'T will make. His friendships. to exert their state Upon: for there are very few things wearier Than solitary Pride's oppressive weight. and patience. Of common likings. disdaining to be guided. And. Give gently way.don't deserve it. which confirm'd but more His prepossessions. Juan's youth. Had all the pertinacity pride has. As most men do. who was cautious as Reserve and pride could make him. on friend or foe. And for your conscience. The very lowest find out an inferior.Arising out of business. in rank. His feelings had not those strange fits. therefore. And the Lord Henry was a great debater. For. which make some deplore What they should laugh at. or a boxer training.' And take my word. Lord Henry also liked to be superior. In birth. in fortune likewise equal. like tertians. in country much the sameBecause bold Britons have a tongue and free quill. you won't have any less. Though reserved. would ne'er revoke what went before. on his haughty spirit wrought. In years he had the advantage of time's sequel. nor caught By specious seeming. Because its own good pleasure hath decided. and always serve it. right or wrong. often brought Himself and Juan in their mutual stations Into close contact. And talent. And loves or hates. Be wary. when there 's too great a press. but by no means sinisterThat few or none more than himself had caught Court mysteries. And thus Lord Henry. the fever or the chill. as he thought. These were advantages: and then he thoughtIt was his foible. like the laws of Persians And Medes. And form'd a basis of esteem. watch the time. and full slow In judging men. ''T is not in mortals to command success: But do you more. At which all modern nations vainly aim.

Always a patriot. Was Juan a recherche. If that the weeds o'erlive not the first cropFor then they are very difficult to stop. A place where peccadillos are unknown. Or wealth. As in freemasonry a higher brother. as despots ride a Russian. at noble routs. and such distant places. and would not see depravity In faults which sometimes show the soil's fertility. That therefore do I previously declare. street. Also there bin another pious reason For making squares and streets anonymous. As many other noble scions were. and loved the races. And Juan. I might have chosen Piccadilly. But I have motives. or are. And then he talk'd with him about Madrid. Where people always did as they were bid. Which were. Upon his talent Henry had no doubts. And diplomatic dinners. in Blank-Blank Square. like a true-born Andalusian. Or did what they should not with foreign graces. And thus acquaintance grew. whether wise or silly. Reaping allusions private and inglorious. Of coursers also spake they: Henry rid Well.for we will break no squares By naming streets: since men are so censorious. Where none were dreamt of. And all men like to show their hospitality To him whose breeding matches with his quality. Which is. unto love's affairs. Therefore I name not square. A vestal shrine of innocence of heart: Such are __ but I have lost the London Chart. He almost honour'd him for his docility. And apt to sow an author's wheat with tares. For letting that pure sanctuary alone. At Henry's mansion then. Or contradicted but with proud humility. or are to be notorious. At Blank-Blank Square. 'T is true. until I Find one where nothing naughty can be shown. And some who had but talent for their crest. His manner show'd him sprung from a high mother. which is a passport every where. Could back a horse. . though young. Unless I knew the very chastest squares. he acquiesced with suavity. Lord Henry's mansion was in Blank-Blank Square. and sometimes a placeman. that there is scarce a single season Which doth not shake some very splendid house With some slight heart-quake of domestic treasonA topic scandal doth delight to rouse: Such I might stumble over unawares. He knew the world. place. He liked the gentle Spaniard for his gravity. Because.. like most Englishmen. welcome guest. Constantinople. or at otherFor Juan stood well both with Ins and Outs.

its impression Was faint. Gaze Upon the shades of those distinguish'd men Who were or are the puppet-shows of praise. There also was of course in Adeline That calm patrician polish in the address.' as Solomon has said. she disdain'd to wear it: Secure of admiration. which indeed 's the best Recommendation. .Indeed we see the daily proof display'd In senates. 'Midst many rocks we guard more against wrecks. at the bar. Or some one for him. Which is the only cause that we can guess Of Britain's present wealth and happiness. Her chief resource was in her own high spirit. Or should it shake.Or even mere fashion.a gilded cloud. Perhaps we have borrow'd this from the ChinesePerhaps from Horace: his 'Nil admirari' Was what he call'd the 'Art of Happiness. To all she was polite without parade. The praise of persecution. And thus with women: howsoe'er it shocks some's Self-love. in wordy feud. To those who were. as of an every-day possession. the choice will more perplexVariety itself will more encumber. Which judged mankind at their due estimation. in some sage. And since 'there 's safety in a multitude Of counsellors.A gentle. thus for the sex A large acquaintance lets not Virtue slumber. and amidst the blaze Of sunset halos o'er the laurel-brow'd. Where'er collective wisdom can parade.But as 'there 's safety' grafted in the number 'Of counsellors' for men. A dull and desolate appendage. save now and then. To some she show'd attention of that kind Which flatters. and to be well drest Will very often supersede the rest. And for coquetry. Just to console sad glory for being glorious. grave mood. genial courtesy of mind.At least his manner suffers not to guess That any thing he views can greatly please. but is flattery convey'd In such a sort as cannot leave behind A trace unworthy either wife or maid. there 's safety in a crowd of coxcombs. What can ye recognise?. gaze again On the most favour'd. or pass'd for meritorious.' An art on which the artists greatly vary. which leaves but little merit To virtue proper. Which is in all respects. Just as a mandarin finds nothing fine. But Adeline had not the least occasion For such a shield. or good education. Which ne'er can pass the equinoctial line Of any thing which nature would express.

On which the Muse has always sought to enter.No! I hate to hunt down a tired metaphor. However. 't is expedient to be wary: Indifference certes don't produce distress. Of the two principles. ere time shall summon With his grey signal-flag. Shall I go on?. 't is a voyage or vessel lost. by me and others. So let the often-used volcano go. About a liquid glassful will remain.ending in July. . Poor thing! How frequently. while life's thin thread 's spun out Between the gaping heir and gnawing gout. When once you have broken their confounded ice. Must be declined.et caetera. As a volcano holds the lava more Within. While those who are not beginners should have sense Enough to make for port. But heaven must be diverted. It hath been stirr'd up till its smoke quite smothers! I 'll have another figure in a trice:What say you to a bottle of champagne? Frozen into a very vinous ice. And such are many.but never mind: The world upon the whole is worth the assertion (If but for comfort) that all things are kind: And that same devilish doctrine of the Persian. The dreary 'Fuimus' of all things human. past all price. And as the good ships sent upon that message Have not exactly ascertain'd the Pole (Though Parry's efforts look a lucky presage). Which leaves few drops of that immortal rain. but leaves behind As many doubts as any other doctrine Has ever puzzled Faith withal. Thus gentlemen may run upon a shoal. And young beginners may as well commence With quiet cruising o'er the ocean woman. And rash enthusiasm in good society Were nothing but a moral inebriety. And your cold people are beyond all price. and the past tense. but all frost (A chance still). its diversion Is sometimes truculent. And this is stronger than the strongest grape Could e'er express in its expanded shape: 'T is the whole spirit brought to a quintessence. And thus the chilliest aspects may concentre A hidden nectar under a cold presence. or yoked her in. For if the Pole 's not open. But Adeline was not indifferent: for (Now for a common-place!) beneath the snow.And have not yet attain'd to much success. The English winter. Yet in the very centre.though I only meant her From whom I now deduce these moral lessons. But after all they are a North-West Passage Unto the glowing India of the soul.

Listening debates not very wise or witty. But for post-horses who finds sympathy? Man's pity 's for himself.. And happiest they who horses can engage. Downward flies my lord. But these are trifles. or for his son. 'Arcadians both. and the valet mounts the dickeyThat gentleman of lords and gentlemen. tricky. The postboys have no reason to disparage Their fee.- . and Rotten Row Sleeps from the chivalry of this bright age. equipage! Wheels whirl from Carlton palace to Soho. And changed as quickly as hearts after marriage. The turnpikes glow with dust. conceded as a gift. If but to show I 've travell'd. Also my lady's gentlewoman. and what 's travel. Its sessions form our only almanack. but ere the water'd wheels may hiss hence. Or generous draft. For parliament is our barometer: Let radicals its other acts attack.till they can get a fresh oneHawk'd about at a discount. When nature wears the gown that doth become her. 'T is the postilion's paradise: wheels fly.' are left To the Greek kalends of another session.'Cosi viaggino i Ricchi!' (Excuse a foreign slipslop now and then. I don't err In this: whatever other blunders lie Upon my shoulders. luggage. chariot. And tradesmen. north.as the postboys fasten on the traces.. with long bills and longer faces. there is a run. Ere patriots their true country can remember. Alas! to them of ready cash bereft. At a long date. 'T is perhaps a pity. And wait until the nightingale grows dumber. small or large. To lose those best months in a sweaty city. south. here I must aver My Muse a glass of weatherology. east. Trick'd out. west. baggage. Always premising that said son at college Has not contracted much more debt than knowledge. Unless it teaches one to quote and cavil?) The London winter and the country summer Were well nigh over. but modest more than poet's pen Can paint. They and their bills. The ostler pleads too for a reminiscence.lo Coach. Sigh. Also the solace of an overcharge. Away! away! 'Fresh horses!' are the word.To recommence in August. The London winter 's ended in JulySometimes a little later. On roads. What hope remains? Of hope the full possession. The obsequious landlord hath the change restored. When its quicksilver 's down at zero. 'T is granted.now was done. Nodding beside my lady in his carriage.

of a rich and rare Mix'd Gothic. And oaks as olden as their pedigree Told of their sires. with thirty servants for parade. Pope says. or more. Whose loss in the late action we regret: The vacancies are fill'd up. 'Falmouth. a tomb in every tree. before whom groan As many covers. such as artists all allow Few specimens yet left us can compare . a select And numerous party of his noble friends.As thus: 'On Thursday there was a grand dinner. Present.who doubts the Morning Post? (Whose articles are like the 'Thirty-nine. The Duke of D__ the shooting season spends. The envoy of the secret Russian mission. With those who. or much the same. Were vanish'd to be what they call aloneThat is. so well known to fame. from sources quite correct. for whom earth was made. duly. The Morning Post was foremost to proclaim'Departure. C.' Which those most swear to who believe them most)Our gay Russ Spaniard was ordain'd to shine. The twice two thousand.. I 've done with my tirade. 'We understand the splendid host intends To entertain.' 'T is odd. Also a foreigner of high condition. Lord Henry and the Lady Adeline Departed like the rest of their compeers.But there 's no shooting (save grouse) till September.An old. With many more by rank and fashion deck'd. Lords A. the sound grows cold. old monastery once.' And thus we see.see Gazette. this autumn. date. and now Still older mansion. daily. to a mansion very fine. Let none accuse Old England's hospitalityIts quantity is but condensed to quality.Earls. by name Announced with no less pomp than victory's winner: Then underneath. There has lately been here The Slap-dash regiment. As many guests. The Gothic Babel of a thousand years. B. for his country seat. ere the ink be dry. The world was gone. The peerage. Deck'd by the rays reflected from his host. A paragraph in every paper told Of their departure: such is modern fame: 'T is pity that it takes no farther hold Than an advertisement. 'greatly daring dine. dukes.last war the News abounded More with these dinners than the kill'd or wounded. None than themselves could boast a longer line. When. Lord H. laid. Where time through heroes and through beauties steers.' To Norman Abbey whirl'd the noble pair. and in the very same Column. Amundeville and Lady A. 'Midst whom we have heard.'. but true. to-day.

The Virgin Mother of the God-born Child. The branching stag swept down with all his herd. who fought in vain For those who knew not to resign or reign. but crowned. and thus allay'd. Pursued its course. To quaff a brook which murmur'd like a bird. Within a niche. brooding in their liquid bed: The woods sloped downwards to its brink. Sparkling with foam.like an infant made Quiet. and now hiding Its windings through the woods. But even the faintest relics of a shrine Of any worship wake some thoughts divine. . now blue. But in the war which struck Charles from his throne.a loss to art: The first yet frown'd superbly o'er the soil. To shelter their devotion from the wind. alone. Shorn of its glass of thousand colourings. Crown'd by high woodlands. Spared by some chance when all beside was spoil'd.The gallant cavaliers. until again subsiding. nigh to its pinnacle. Its outlet dash'd into a deep cascade. Its shriller echoes. weak or wild. and stood With their green faces fix'd upon the flood. with broad arms 'gainst the thunderstroke. which once screen'd many an aisle. Which mourn'd the power of time's or tempest's march. And kindled feelings in the roughest heart. Before the mansion lay a lucid lake. And from beneath his boughs were seen to sally The dappled foresters. which its soften'd way did take In currents through the calmer water spread Around: the wildfowl nestled in the brake And sedges. It stood embosom'd in a happy valley. now gleaming. These last had disappear'd. not when the friars fell.as day awoke. hollow in the centre. Broad as transparent. In gazing on that venerable arch. But in a higher niche. deep.sank into softer ripples. This may be superstition. as tell The annals of full many a line undone. now clear. A glorious remnant of the Gothic pile (While yet the church was Rome's) stood half apart In a grand arch. look'd round. She made the earth below seem holy ground. But these had fallen. A mighty window.Withal: it lies perhaps a little low. With her Son in her blessed arms. where the Druid oak Stood like Caractacus in act to rally His host. Through which the deepen'd glories once could enter. Twelve saints had once stood sanctified in stone. According as the skies their shadows threw. When each house was a fortalice. Because the monks preferr'd a hill behind. and freshly fed By a river. gliding Into a rivulet.

Glanced from the walls in goodly preservation. Some deem it but the distant echo given Back to the night wind by the waterfall. molten the next generation To silken rows of gay and garter'd earls. but deck'd with carvings quaintStrange faces. which then Is musical.Streaming from off the sun like seraph's wings. or form Shaped by decay perchance. Still unimpair'd. Whose drapery hints we may admire them freely. Yet left a grand impression on the mind. spacious chambers. where it spent Its little torrent in a thousand bubbles. With fair long locks. now fainter. There moans a strange unearthly sound. there a saint: The spring gush'd through grim mouths of granite made. Might shock a connoisseur. irregular in parts. nor can solve. with a voice to charm.a dying accent driven Through the huge arch. and when The wind is winged from one point of heaven. And Lady Marys blooming into girls. The cells. The mansion's self was vast and venerable. At least of those whose eyes are in their hearts: We gaze upon a giant for his stature. Like man's vain glory. Judges in very formidable ermine . Huge halls. Sad. The cause I know not. and oft sings The owl his anthem. Steel barons. long galleries. and his vainer troubles. or sunk. that some original shape. Amidst the court a Gothic fountain play'd. But in the noontide of the moon. hath given the power (Though less than that of Memnon's statue. The gale sweeps through its fretwork. it sweeps o'er tree or tower. The rest had been reform'd.I 've heard it. where the silenced quire Lie with their hallelujahs quench'd like fire. And sparkled into basins. join'd By no quite lawful marriage of the arts. I ween: An exquisite small chapel had been able. And harmonised by the old choral wall: Others. Nor judge at first if all be true to nature. too. but such The fact:.once perhaps too much. to harp at a fix'd hour) To this grey ruin. And countesses mature in robes and pearls: Also some beauties of Sir Peter Lely. replaced. to decorate the scene. And spoke more of the baron than the monk. Symmetrical. and refectory. warm In Egypt's rays. Now yawns all desolate: now loud. And here perhaps a monster. Form'd a whole which. had also kept their station. With more of the monastic than has been Elsewhere preserved: the cloisters still were stable. but when combined. which soars and sinks again. like to men in masquerade. but serene.

And here and there some stern high patriot stood. and here the sea shone In Vernet's ocean lights. Huger than twelve of our degenerate breed: Lordlings.and know. whose canvass scarce contain'd the steed. with brows that did not much invite The accused to think their lordships would determine His cause by leaning much from might to right: Bishops. and wonderful his feats. By Homer's 'Catalogue of ships' is clear. some all in armour. nut-brown partridges! Ah. and not in vain. sinning In this sort. with staves of white or keys of gold: Nimrods. Others in wigs of Marlborough's martial fold. Here sweetly spread a landscape of Lorraine. or fear.Were there. awful to the sight. The corn is cut. who had not left a single sermon: Attorneys-general. commence not with the end. and there the stories Of martyrs awed. thou hast patient been of late. The pointer ranges. But a mere modern must be moderateI spare you then the furniture and plate. Ah. begin with the beginning (though That clause is hard). and secondly. Who could not get the place for which he sued. While I. To constitute a reader. There rose a Carlo Dolce or a Titian. O reader! if that thou canst read. or even to read. Or wilder group of savage Salvatore's.What. ho! a flask of Rhenish. there must go Virtues of which both you and I have need. and with it came The promised party. proceed. reader. the manor full of game. 'T is not enough to spell. Fatigued with these hereditary glories. As hinting more (unless our judgments warp us) Of the 'Star Chamber' than of 'Habeas Corpus. without remorse of rhyme. lo! a Teniers woos.lynx-like is his aim. ere lead had ta'en the lead. Your eyes to revel in a livelier sight: His bell-mouth'd goblet makes me feel quite Danish Or Dutch with thirst. Full grows his bag. brilliant pheasants! . There Rembrandt made his darkness equal light. Or gloomy Caravaggio's gloomier stain Bronzed o'er some lean and stoic anchorite:But. That poets were so from their earliest date. But ever and anon. to enjoy its sweets. of the old And iron time. Have built and laid out ground at such a rate. to soothe your vision. Thirdly. end at least with the beginning. The mellow autumn came.' Generals. and the sportsman beats In russet jacket:. Dan Phoebus takes me for an auctioneer.Firstly. Here danced Albano's boys.or. as Spagnoletto tainted His brush with all the blood of all the sainted.. But.

up to a certain point. Of in-door comforts still she hath a mine. All purged and pious from their native clouds.she hath the chase. quae miscuit utile dulci. And for the effeminate villeggiaturaRife with more horns than hounds. And so that no explosion cry 'Aroint Thee. which point Forms the most difficult in punctuation. Miss Mackstay. we can tell her. Busey. I 've seen a virtuous woman put down quite By the mere combination of a coterie. Also the honourable Mrs. for good society Is no less famed for tolerance than piety. o'er which the far festoon entwines The red grape in the sunny lands of song. Which hath a little leaning to a lottery. Or (to the point with Horace and with Pulci) 'Omne tulit punctum. the rich banker's squaw. So animated that it might allure Saint from his beads to join the jocund race. The claret light. The very best of vineyards is the cellar.Miss Eclat.That is. she may compete in mellow. if she hath not that serene decline Which makes the southern autumn's day appear As if 't would to a second spring resign The season.' I can't exactly trace their rule of right. Hath yet a purchased choice of choicest wines. Miss O'Tabby. the Countess Crabby. who ought to be made game. The noble guests. Then. An English autumn.. Rabbi. Who pass like water filter'd in a tank. rather than to winter drear. yet was a black sheep: With other Countesses of Blank. Also a so-so matron boldly fight . assembled at the Abbey. Consisted of. The Ladies Scilly. Or paper turn'd to money by the Bank: No matter how or why. Even Nimrod's self might leave the plains of Dura.'T is no sport for peasants. she hath a tame Preserve of bores. And Mrs. And wear the Melton jacket for a space: If she hath no wild boars. Appearances appear to form the joint On which it hinges in a higher station.' Without doors. the passport shrouds The 'passee' and the past. and the Madeira strong.The sea-coal fires the 'earliest of the year.but rank. As what is lost in green is gain'd in yellow.And ah.we give the sex the pasThe Duchess of Fitz-Fulke. ye poachers!. At once the 'lie' and the 'elite' of crowds. witch!' or each Medea has her Jason. though it hath no vines. Who look'd a white lamb. If Britain mourn her bleakness. Miss Bombazeen. Blushing with Bacchant coronals along The paths. too. Sleep.

last war. too. Who ate. There was Dick Dubious. And Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. scarless sneers. And Sir John Pottledeep. There were the six Miss Rawbolds.pretty dears! All song and sentiment. the great freethinker. Good at all things. But the clubs found it rather serious laughter. who was a. and no less a swordsman. Escaping with a few slight. rooks.duke. the soi-disant mathematician. In his grave office so completely skill'd. the great race-winner. That when a culprit came far condemnation. whose Honour was more before their names than after. And shine the very Siria of the spheres. Whom France and Fortune lately deign'd to waft here. not foremost in degree. that neither eyes nor ears For commoners had ever them mistook. There was Parolles. But ta'en at hazard as the rhyme may run. He shows more appetite for words than war. Sir Henry Silvercup. Who loved philosophy and a good dinner. . Who limits all his battles to the bar And senate: when invited elsewhere. There also were some Irish absentees. A great tactician. the gigantic guardsman. the legal bully. Jefferies Hardsman. too. There was the Reverend Rodomont Precisian.Her way back to the world by dint of plottery. pawns. There was the waggish Welsh Judge. There was Lord Pyrrho. there were twelve peers Like Charlemagne's.there are kings. more Yankees than he kill'd.but we will see How our villeggiatura will get on. 'Ay. He had his judge's joke for consolation. the world 's a game. Angle. too. Save that the puppets pull at their own strings. I have named a few. By way of sprinkling. There was the Duke of Dash. And General Fireface. but better at a bet. Who did not hate so much the sin as sinner. with his repartees. There were four Honourable Misters. There was the preux Chevalier de la Ruse. the metaphysician. scatter'd amongst these. The party might consist of thirty-three Of highest caste. Because. knights. every inch a' duke.the Brahmins of the ton. There was the young bard Rackrhyme.such was his magic power to pleaseThe dice seem'd charm'd. There was jack jargon. truly. bishops. I have seen more than I 'll say:. the mighty drinker.and all such peers in look And intellect. whose hearts were set Less on a convent than a coronet. Whose chiefly harmless talent was to amuse. who had newly Come out and glimmer'd as a six weeks' star. Queens. famous in the field. Good company 's a chess-board.

Who had deliver'd well a very set Smooth speech. too. With wit to hatch a pun or tell a story. 'His country's pride. we turn gleaners. Graced with some merit.but must not forgetAn orator. Yet think. There also were two wits by acclamation. his rival by his head. whether flat or sharp. of his vote And lost virginity of oratory. and the other bredThis by his heart. Society is now one polish'd horde.' he came down to the country. The days of Comedy are gone. and there is nought to cull Of folly's fruit.Methinks gay Punch hath something of the same. are no more to be found Professional. Professions. Strongbow was like a new-tuned harpsichord. and not worth the pains to pull. alas! When Congreve's fool could vie with Moliere's bete: Society is smooth'd to that excess. That manners hardly differ more than dress. his first and maidenly transgression Upon debate: the papers echoed yet With his debut. Proud of his learning (just enough to quote). the butterfly hath but her wings. the latest of the session. for though your fools abound. Not stings. gleaning . They're barren. but also dull. and with more effrontery.were she but a hornet. My Muse.' Proud of his 'Hear hims!' proud.While Strongbow's best things might have come from Cato. But from being farmers. If all these seem a heterogeneous mas To be assembled at a country seat. But Longbow wild as an AEolian harp. With which the winds of heaven can claim accord. a specimen of every class Is better than a humdrum tete-a-tete. And make a music. which made a strong impression. Our ridicules are kept in the back-groundRidiculous enough. Perhaps there might be vices which would mourn it. Alighting rarely:.one born so. Of Strongbow's talk you would not change a word: At Longbow's phrases you might sometimes carp: Both wits. the Bores and Bored. But Strongbow's wit was of more polish'd breed: Longbow was rich in an imagination As beautiful and bounding as a steed. too. Longbow from Ireland. and flits through ether without aim. Strongbow from the Tweed. He revell'd in his Ciceronian glory: With memory excellent to get by rote. And rank'd with what is every day display'd'The best first speech that ever yet was made. Form'd of two mighty tribes. But sometimes stumbling over a potato. I had forgotten. Both lawyers and both men of education.

Or rode a nag which trotted not too high. where she cries. Witness the lands which 'flow'd with milk and honey.we retort The fact for words. the famous Conversationist. But seize the last word. or criticised the pictures. although our gleanings be not grist. 'List. because they liked the sportThe first thing boys like after play and fruit. had a page Prepared each morn for evenings. And tumbled books. the love of money. And. I will not dwell upon ragouts or roasts. Kit-Cat. I must not quite omit the talking sage. . You may be Boaz. Or on the morning papers read their lectures. in his common-place book.modest Ruth. But oh. The party we have touch'd on were the guests: Their table was a board to tempt even ghosts To pass the Styx for more substantial feasts. 'That Scriptures out of church are blasphemies.and make a great sensation.' Held out unto the hungry Israelites. To this we have added since. which no doubt 's the best.What unexpected woes Await those who have studied their bon-mots! Firstly. Or hunt: the young. or even abuse thee! The gentlemen got up betimes to shoot. Youth fades. Nor bate (abate) their hearers of an inch. and leaves our days no longer sunny. Farther I 'd quote. Adams. ambrosial cash! Ah! who would lose thee? When we no more can use. And made upon the hot-house several strictures. it great impression in my youth Was made by Mrs. And secondly. The only sort of pleasure which requites. oh. and let the French translate That awful yawn which sleep can not abate.the hungry sinner!Since Eve ate apples. Though nameless in our language:. For ennui is a growth of English root. Who.' But what we can we glean in this vile age Of chaff. gentle reader! when you gather meaning. Lord Henry and his lady were the hosts. We tire of mistresses and parasites. Albeit all human history attests That happiness for man. but Scripture intervening Forbids. The elderly walk'd through the library. must let slip no occasion. Or on the watch their longing eyes would fix. poor ghost!'. list!''Alas. and I. never flinch When some smart talker puts them to the test.The scanty but right-well thresh'd ears of truth. they must allure the conversation By many windings to their clever clinch. If possible. and thirdly. The middle-aged to make the day more short. But take an ell. Or saunter'd through the gardens piteously. much depends on dinner.

Small is the rest of those who would be smart. they read. in his gullet Should have a hook. I love the mystery of a female missal. And settled bonnets by the newest code.Save in the clubs no man of honour plays. or rehearsed the last dance from abroad. When he allured poor Dolon:. Each rose up at his own. . all had friends. or told a tale. which how to pass is but to few known. and settled all the spheres. And then retreated soberly.because to music's charms They added graceful necks. where. Then there were billiards. the mere praise Of charms that should or should not be admired.because it never ends. But none were 'gene:' the great hour of union Was rung by dinner's knell. The politicians. and broke his fast When. Which. If fine.or in communion. To introduce a bon-mot head and ears. To make each correspondent a new debtor.at ten. With evening came the banquet and the wine. The hunters fought their fox-hunt o'er again. The quaint. till then all were Masters of their own time. cards. Or walk'd. the duet. The wits watch'd every loophole for their art. they rode. and how he chose for that repast. if foul. too. The conversazione. some a little paleMet the morn as they might. skating when 't was ice. And the hard frost destroy'd the scenting days: And angling. like a creed. The earth has nothing like a she epistle. and had to spare What time he chose for dress. Discuss'd the world. Or cramm'd twelve sheets into one little letter. that solitary vice.but decorous. Attuned by voices more or less divine (My heart or head aches with the memory yet). The ladies. and a small trout to pull it. Sung.some rouged. For then the gentlemen were rather tired) Display'd some sylph-like figures in its maze. cruel coxcomb. as they chose to bear The hours. For some had absent lovers. but no dice. old. But full of cunning as Ulysses' whistle. Then there was small-talk ready when required. too. Or solitary. Discuss'd the fashion which might next prevail.Boats when 't was water. Whatever Izaak Walton sings or says.Longing at sixty for the hour of six. in a nook apart. But the two youngest loved more to be set Down to the harp. white hands and arms. Flirtation. The four Miss Rawbolds in a glee would shine. ne'er says all it intends.you had better Take care what you reply to such a letter. Sometimes a dance (though rarely on field days. And hardly heaven.

of these he made no bones. When nothing shall be either old or new. IF from great nature's or our own abyss Of thought we could but snatch a certainty. polish'd. CANTO_THE_FOURTEENTH CANTO THE FOURTEENTH. and what know you. And our Sophias are not so emphatic. For when his pious consort gave him stones In lieu of sons. can you make fast. is a thing which makes men weep. Pray tell me. reject. nothing I deny. An age may come. Perhaps mankind might find the path they missBut then 't would spoil much good philosophy. and this Much as old Saturn ate his progeny. Admit. contemn. Peace to the slumbers of each folded flowerMay the rose call back its true colour soon! Good hours of fair cheeks are the fairest tinters.at least some winters. But all was gentle and aristocratic In this our party. That is. as stiff as stones. And eats her parents. some bore may make them lose it. There now are no Squire Westerns as of old. I know nought. And yet what are your other evidences? For me. which creditors regret) Lets out impatiently his rushing breath. and cold. like Tom Jones. As Phidian forms cut out of marble Attic. A sleep without dreams. ere unto the stake fast You bind yourself. ere midnight. your faith to any question? Look back o'er ages. albeit the digestion Is difficult. One system eats another up. Less from disgust of life than dread of death. or fairer to behold.which is London's noon: But in the country ladies seek their bower A little earlier than the waning moon. is what we covet most. After due search. But gentlemen in stays. They separated at an early hour. smooth. after a rough day Of toil. Font of Eternity. Nothing more true than not to trust your senses. Death. We have no accomplish'd blackguards. But System doth reverse the Titan's breakfast. But fair as then. and yet How clay shrinks back from more quiescent clay! The very Suicide that pays his debt At once without instalments (an old way Of paying debts. even then.A moment's good thing may have cost them years Before they find an hour to introduce it. And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep. . so call'd. And then. and call some mode the best one. And lower the price of rouge. Except perhaps that you were born to die? And both may after all turn out untrue.

But what 's this to the purpose? you will say. In youth I wrote because my mind was full. the clergy. pale and struck with terror. A paper kite which flies 'twixt life and death.or do not. according as the mind glows. You know. and eke The other. Until I fairly knock'd it up with rhyme. there. Is poesy. nothing. Gent..'T is round him. every where. nor discovering new. 't will show the way the wind blows. mankind. To the great pleasure of our friends. Perhaps of all most desperate. But 'why then publish?'. that 's to say. For which my sole excuse is. and there You look down o'er the precipice.There are no rewards Of fame or profit when the world grows weary. near him.To make some hour less dreary. A shadow which the onward soul behind throws: And mine 's a bubble. I ask in turn.or behind. I have proved enough to blame. And quite enough for me to keep in mind. Who like to mix some slight alloy with fame. or don't know.Of passions. you don't. It occupies me to turn back regards On what I 've seen or ponder'd. as an infant plays. and drear The gulf of rock yawns. here. which will dare The worst to know it:. reader. But just to play with. To the unknown. And now because I feel it growing dull. But a mere airy and fantastic basis. And yet I can't help scribbling once a week. without delay: This narrative is not meant for narration. For I have seen a portion of that same. To build up common things with common places.. be it truth or error. Tiring old readers. too. sad or cheery. . I have brought this world about my ears. a mere speculation.but where? You know not. not blown up for praise. Sometimes with and sometimes without occasion I write what 's uppermost. 'Fling up a straw. 'T is true. a secret prepossession. who Upon my head have bid their thunders break In pious libels by no means a few. And that's the reason why you do. The lurking bias. The world is all before me.' And such a straw.but.'t is my way. that great Bacon saith. Retire: but look into your past impression! And you will find.you can't gaze a minute Without an awful wish to plunge within it. And there 's a courage which grows out of fear. though shuddering at the mirror Of your own thoughts. in all their self-confession.Why do you play at cards? Why drink? Why read?. To plunge with all your fears. borne on by human breath. For I was rather famous in my time.when the mountains rear Their peaks beneath your human foot.

at first sight. To swim or sink. shone. For too much truth. A sort of varnish over every fault. Of course with some reserve and slight restriction. a tempest. Of no great promise for poetic pages. like soldiers off parade. Seen beauties brought to market by the score. With dandies dined. in those at least who have got any. my Muse by no means deals in fiction: She gathers a repertory of facts. here 's at least satiety Both in performance and in preparation. And yet 't is not affected. With more ease too she 'd tell a different story. But mostly sings of human things and actsAnd that 's one cause she meets with contradiction. This paradise of pleasure and ennui. A bird's-eye view. something more. In play. war. of that wild. That no defeat can drive me from the Nine. I opine. even in their crimes. may be. Also a seasoning slight of lucubration. This feeling 't is not easy to express. I hardly could compose another line: So long I 've battled either more or less.at least it did so upon me. and the other losing. Nothing that speaks to all men and all times. And they must be or seem what they were: still Doubtless it is a brilliant masquerade. there are two pleasures for your choosingThe one is winning. too. Drest. It palls. With much to excite. and gamed our gaming. But when of the first sight you have had your fill. heard senators declaiming. Society. and. Sometimes. Besides. And were her object only what 's call'd glory. And though these lines should only line portmanteaus. A slight glance thrown on men of every station. there 's little to exalt. If you have nought else. There is a sameness in its gems and ermine. A dull and family likeness through all ages. . a smooth monotony Of character. When we have made our love. They break their ranks and gladly leave the drill. Love. But then the roll-call draws them back afraid. indeed. Trade will be all the better for these Cantos. I think that were I certain of success. wit without much salt. The reason why is easy to determine: Although it seems both prominent and pleasant.surely there 's variety. The portion of this world which I at present Have taken up to fill the following sermon. A want of that true nature which sublimes Whate'er it shows with truth. voted.And what I write I cast upon the stream. Factitious passions.I have had at least my dream. A kind of common-place. ne'er attracts. Is one of which there 's no description recent.

and more suspicion. Victim when wrong. some slight scandals strange and quaint.' these are Nugae. I wish to spare 'em. Why do their sketches fail them as inditers Of what they deem themselves most consequential. or history of the heart. education. filter'd through her woman. wreck. by bribing The porter. The grand arcanum 's not for men to see all. But as to women.A daily plague. Poor thing of usages! coerced. Which bears the same relation to the real. exactly as they ought to paint: Some say. like a history of freemasons. But this can't well be true. for that 's essential. As Captain Parry's voyage may do to Jason's. which in the aggregate May average on the whole with parturition. there 's little to describe. leaven'd. since she fell'd The world (as. for writers Are grown of the beau monde a part potential: I 've seen them balance even the scale with fighters. But even this is difficult. 'quarum Pars parva fui.' but still art and part. My music has some mystic diapasons. For reasons which I choose to keep apart.Sad rakes to sadder husbands chastely taming. since that history less polite Than true. But form good housekeepers. And there is much which could not be appreciated In any manner by the uninitiated.and woman. who can penetrate The real sufferings of their she condition? Man's very sympathy with their estate Has much of selfishness. Heaven knows. just now. Condemn'd to child-bed. Alas! worlds fall. in fact. to breed a nation. 'Haud ignara loquor. Especially when young. To furnish matter for their moral gibing. . Than these things. beauty. There 's little left but to be bored or bore. hath been a creed so strictly held) Has not yet given up the practice quite. And therefore what I throw off is idealLower'd. and besides. that authors only snatch. Their love. as men for their sins Have shaving too entail'd upon their chins. The real portrait of the highest tribe? 'T is that. All this were very well. 'Vetabo Cereris sacrum qui vulgarit-' Which means that vulgar people must not share it. 'T is said. compell'd.indeed a general complaintThat no one has succeeded in describing The monde. and martyr oft when right. Witness those 'ci-devant jeunes hommes' who stem The stream. A battle. Now I could much more easily sketch a harem. And that their books have but one style in commonMy lady's prattle. and can't be better. their virtue. nor leave the world which leaveth them.

like saintsWas all things unto people of all sorts. He likewise could be most things to all women. By various joltings of life's hackney coach.So many troubles from her birth beset her. in cottages. And more attracts by all it doth concealA golden scabbard on a Damasque sword. Because the sun. We left our heroes and our heroines In that fair clime which don't depend on climate. that chaste and goodly veil. Are there oft dull and dreary as a dunWhether a sky's or tradesman's is all one.'T is pleasant. for example. I for one venerate a petticoatA garment of a mystical sublimity. To spoil his undertaking or complete. In camps.in this respect. In my young days. without complaints. And the sky shows that very ancient gray. or dimity. With which I could not brew a pastoral. Much I respect. But be it as it may.but ask any woman if she'd choose (Take her at thirty. and stars. like a miser's hoard. Juan. in ships. And mingling modestly in toils or sports. To catch a glimpse even of a pretty peasant. silk. whether great or small. Embarrass'd somewhat both with fire and water. blowing. or courtsBorn with that happy soul which seldom faints. and mists. sad antithesis to glowing. Quite independent of the Zodiac's signs. And lived contentedly. . and all we can be most sublime at. A loving letter with a mystic seal.for what can ever rankle Before a petticoat and peeping ankle? And when upon a silent. With a sirocco. as from hungry pikes a roach. at least. Though certainly more difficult to rhyme at. A cure for grief. Without the coxcombry of certain she men. But since beneath it upon earth we are brought. And sulkily the river's ripple 's flowing. Which holds a treasure. sullen day. Which even those who obey would fain be thought To fly from. An in-door life is less poetical. and aught that shines. that is) to have been Female or male? a schoolboy or a queen? 'Petticoat influence' is a great reproach. No matter whether russet. and much I have adored. That. When even the sea looks dim with all its spray. And work away like spirit upon matter. The sober. The gilding wears so soon from off her fetter. a bard must meet All difficulties. Mountains. Such small distinction between friends and foes. And out of door hath showers. if then any thing is pleasant. and sleet.

Swore praises. He clear'd hedge. And rated him almost a whipper-in.In short. But. And listening to the topics most in vogue. The Nestors of the sporting generation.although in this I yield To patriot sympathy a Briton's blushes. Who.all foreigners excel The serious Angles in the eloquence Of pantomime. So that his horse. and double post. now and then. and made but few 'faux pas. And once o'er several country gentlemen. And never craned. And shone in the best part of dialogue. hack.A quality agreeable to woman. whether saint or sinner. I say.for the sagest youth is frail. Now grave. And now in this new field. With emphasis.not of spear and shield. He broke.he danced. or charger. When her soft. The huntsman's self relented to a grin. Yet I must own. But on the whole. And then he danced. And what not. now gay. And smiling but in secret. But leaps. and rail. to general admiration He acquitted both himself and horse: the squires Marvell'd at merit of another nation. light and airy. there never was a better hearer. and bursts.Sires. it may be. and also with good senseA thing in footing indispensable. 't is true.A fox-hunt to a foreigner is strange. Who wake in winter ere the cock can summon December's drowsy day to his dull race.He thought at heart like courtly Chesterfield. . Such were his trophies.cunning rogue! He ne'er presumed to make an error clearer. 'If men ever hunted twice?' He also had a quality uncommon To early risers after a long chase. after a long chase o'er hills.. with some applause. By humouring always what they might assert. ditch. though he rode beyond all price. right well. bushes. liquid words run on apace. The boors cried 'Dang it? who 'd have thought it?'. Who likes a listener. and having in exchange Some pleasant jesting at the awkward stranger: But Juan had been early taught to range The wilds. Ask'd next day.' And only fretted when the scent 'gan fail.. Rode o'er the hounds. stood on the alert. as doth an Arab turn'd avenger. hunter. but never dull or pert.He did not fall asleep just after dinner. some statutes of the laws Of hunting. dales. and sometimes foxes' brushes. Knew that he had a rider on his back. and recall'd their former fires. He danced without theatrical pretence. 'T is also subject to the double danger Of tumbling first..

he could alike delight The chaste. Who. No marvel then he was a favourite. And then he had an ear for music's sound. like a flying Hour before Aurora. Some would not deem such women could be found. Such was his tact. and then sneer'd. although no more a Remnant were there of the old world's sole throne. and those who are not so much inspired. for to the dolour Of bards and prosers. The 'tout ensemble' of his movements wore a Grace of the soft ideal. And elegance was sprinkled o'er his figure. one might think. True. I 'd rather not say what might be related Of her exploits.' She was a fine and somewhat full-blown blonde. Mere freedoms of the female corporation. Such classic pas. and.sans flaws. But such small licences must lovers brook. Besides there might be falsehood in what 's stated: Her late performance had been a dead set At Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. The Duchess of Fitz-Fulke. Like swift Camilla. for this were ticklish ground. words are void of colour. The circle smiled. A full-grown Cupid. and the matrons frown'd. Some hoped things might not turn out as they fear'd. Or. or where. A little spoilt. seldom shown. Chaste were his steps. then whisper'd. In Guido's famous fresco which alone Is worth a tour to Rome. And rather held in than put forth his vigour. And ne'er to be described. This noble personage began to look A little black upon this new flirtation. grand monde. none ever named the duke. took But small concern about the when. celebrated For several winters in the grand. he scarce skimm'd the ground. Woe to the man who ventures a rebuke! 'T will but precipitate a situation Extremely disagreeable. each kept within due bound.' Began to treat him with some small 'agacerie. He glanced like a personified Bolero. Some look'd perplex'd. . Desirable.set off our hero. who loved 'tracasserie. he was absent. Which might defy a crotchet critic's rigour. and others look'd profound. The Misses bridled. At least he kept his vanity retired. but common To calculators when they count on woman.Not like a ballet-master in the van Of his drill'd nymphs. very much admired. And several pitied with sincere regret Poor Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. but like a gentleman. was something in the affair. But what is odd. Some ne'er believed one half of what they heard. 't was rumour'd. distinguish'd. but by no means so quite.

Some heart-aches had been spared me: yet I care notI would not be a tortoise in his screen Of stubborn shell. But this is not my maxim: had it been. Regretting much that she had chosen so bad a line. And waxing chiller in her courtesy. Especially when we are ill at ease. They are but bad pilots when the weather 's rough. And not to pour their ocean in a sieve. Is that portentous phrase. Without a friend.Or what his consort did: if he could brook Her gaieties. Sets to soft music the harmonious sigh. hideous notes of woe. and take another. and therefore can't fall out. Let no man grumble when his friends fall off.' With a long memorandum of old stories. Sadder than owl-songs or the midnight blast.'Would you had thought twice! Ah. Go to the coffee-house. Lady Adeline. or bear not: 'T will teach discernment to the sensitive. But. And solace your slight lapse 'gainst 'bonos mores. what were humanity. 'T is better on the whole to have felt and seen That which humanity may bear. The Lady Adeline's serene severity Was not confined to feeling for her friend. Whose fame she rather doubted with posterity. oh! that I should ever pen so sad a line! Fired with an abstract love of virtue. she.' Utter'd by friends. Own they foresaw that you would fall at last. . Look'd grave and pale to see her friend's fragility. To hunt our errors up with a good grace? Consoling us with. if you had but follow'd my advice!' O job! you had two friends: one 's quite enough. past all doubt. For which most friends reserve their sensibility. But mix'd with pity. And (as her junior by six weeks) his youth. 'stead of saying what you now should do. As they will do like leaves at the first breeze: When your affairs come round. Who. which waves and weather wear not. My Dian of the Ephesians. pure as e'er was penn'd: His inexperience moved her gentle ruth. Began to think the duchess' conduct free. those prophets of the past. And robes sweet friendship in a Brussels lace. Unless her habits should begin to mend: But Juan also shared in her austerity. none had a right to stare: Theirs was that best of unions. Of all the horrid. These forty days' advantage of her yearsAnd hers were those which can face calculation. Doctors less famous for their cures than fees. 'I told you so. Which never meets. There 's nought in this bad world like sympathy: 'T is so becoming to the soul and face. one way or t' other.

. She had consented to create again That Adam. for I never knew The strictest in chronology and virtue Advance beyond. while they could pass for new. like a lingering bottle Which with the landlord makes too long a stand.' . Though she was far from that leap year.Boldly referring to the list of peers And noble births. shave more smoothly. Reset it. also slower. as you have guess'd By this time. Those little glitterers of the London night. call'd 'The happiest of men. She had also snatch'd a moment since her marriage To bear a son and heir. presented. though below her feet still panted A hecatomb of suitors with devotion. she acted right.' Since then she had sparkled through three glowing winters. so dirty With rust. Especially with politics on hand. If but to keep thy credit as a mower. O Time! why dost not pause? Thy scythe. I hate it. At sixteen she came out. or servile peer's 'content. Leaving all-claretless the unmoisten'd throttle. but also so correct. But whatsoe'er she wish'd. But none of these possess'd a sting to wound herShe was a pitch beyond a coxcomb's flight. vaunted. as I hate a drove of cattle. In female dates. what does it signify? I hate a motive. the world was still enchanted With the new Venus of their brilliant ocean: At eighteen. That she had puzzled all the acutest hinters. or virtue dignify A woman. She put all coronets into commotion: At seventeen. pride. which had no defect. should surely cease to hack and hew.and one miscarriage. But Adeline was far from that ripe age. And you will find her sum of years in plenty. Admired. as I hate an argument.I forget what page. A laureate's ode. Perhaps she wish'd an aspirant profounder. too. Without the apparel of being circumspect: They could not even glean the slightest splinters From off the marble. adored. For she had seen the world and stood its test. As I have said in. My Muse despises reference. strikes Time all of a heap.but strike six from seven-and-twenty. nor dread the enumerationGave her a right to have maternal fears For a young gentleman's fit education. This may be fix'd at somewhere before thirtySay seven-and-twenty. And whether coldness. so she 's good. I hate it. whose leap. Fondly the wheeling fire-flies flew around her. Who whirl the dust as simooms whirl the sand. Whose ripeness is but bitter at the best: 'T was rather her experience made her sage.

And somewhat mechante in her amorous sphere. in the o'erflowing of her heart. And simple in the world. One of those pretty. She call'd her husband now and then apart. Than wear a heart a woman loves to rend. ere you rush on. Bewitching. 'T is best to pause. With a smile Lord Henry heard her plans of artless art To wean Don Juan from the siren's wile. If that a 'bonne fortune' be really 'bonne. And bade him counsel Juan. She thought with some simplicity indeed. as they freeze or glow.The Lady Adeline resolved to take Such measures as she thought might best impede The farther progress of this sad mistake. Whose verdict for such sin a certain cure is).what is worst of all. And. precious plagues. So that the branch a goodly verdure flings.won't let you go: The sort of thing to turn a young man's head. which haunt A lover with caprices soft and dear. It was not that she fear'd the very worst: His Grace was an enduring. The Lady Adeline. Or make a Werter of him in the end. I reck not if an acorn gave it birth. and swell the clients' clan Of Doctors' Commons: but she dreaded first The magic of her Grace's talisman. Which really knew or thought it knew no guile. It were much better to be wed or dead.' And first. That like to make a quarrel. Whose virtue lies in never being detected.'T is sad to hack into the roots of things. when they can't Find one. and doth not need Nor use those palisades by dames erected. pass'd for being an intrigante. But innocence is bold even at the stake. With the kind view of saving an eclat. Both to the duchess and diplomatist. married man. They are so much intertwisted with the earth. And next a quarrel (as he seem'd to fret) With Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. torturing. No wonder then a purer soul should dread This sort of chaste liaison for a friend. But this is not at present my concern. . each day of the delightful year. and think. And I refer you to wise Oxenstiern. too. Her Grace. And was not likely all at once to burst Into a scene. as soon 's she saw That Juan was unlikely to resist (For foreigners don't know that a faux pas In England ranks quite on a different list From those of other lands unblest with juries. To trace all actions to their secret springs Would make indeed some melancholy mirth.

Less like a young wife than an aged sister. 'he never interfered In any body's business but the king's:' Next. and proud of every thing. forsoothAt least as far as bienseance allows: That time would temper Juan's faults of youth. for what I know. he said. form'd to lead the courtly van On birthdays.the sweet souls!.' Which. Tall. Without strong reason. therefore. since it drew to Troy . that 'he never judged from what appear'd. doubtless to approve the truth Of the last axiom.' And. though not new: Then broke his packet. A figure fit to walk before a king. In such guise that she could make nothing of it. Still there was something wanting. he was well Proportion'd. may of yore have led To Homer's Iliad. It is because I do not know them yet. good. And pass.' And fourthly. A handsome man. honourable man. to see what was in 't. And was not to be held in leading strings. like a statesman or a prophet. that 'Juan had more brain than beard. what need hardly be said twice. for want of better. And having casually glanced it through. A goodly spirit for a state divan. Such as are coin'd in conversation's mint. and therefore cannot tellWhich pretty women. But there was something wanting on the wholeI don't know what. But I shall add them in a brief appendix.And answer'd. And in each circumstance of love or war Had still preserved his perpendicular. But ere he went. Retired. And if their full contents I do not give ye. glorious with a star and string. Certes it was not body. Another gentle common-place or two. Firstly. That opposition only more attachesBut here a messenger brought in despatches: And being of the council call'd 'the Privy. that human miracle. calmly kiss'd her. as went out. he added a slight hint. he advised his spouse To leave the parties to themselves.' Lord Henry walk'd into his cabinet. To come between mine epic and its index. Proud of his birth.call soul. as I 've saidThat undefinable 'Je ne scais quoi. To furnish matter for some future Livy To tell how he reduced the nation's debt. stately. 'That good but rarely came from good advice. as a poplar or a pole. That young men rarely made monastic vows. The very model of a chamberlainAnd such I mean to make him when I reign. and. He was a cold. of those sort of things:' Thirdly.

The sensual for a short time but connects us. cry 'Voila la Pervenche!' Eureka! I have found it! What I mean To say is. the Argo. the great little poet 's wrong.and this they are but weak in.The Greek Eve. or odds. Convey'd Medea as her supercargo. where we must invent .' For which see Shakspeare's everblooming garden. whate'er their state or station. the Dardan boy Was much inferior to King Menelaus:But thus it is some women will betray us. not that love is idleness. Hard labour's an indifferent go-between. And when they have made the shore through every shock. Neither can show quite how they would be loved. no doubt. Unless like wise Tiresias we had proved By turns the difference of the several sexes. Frail mariners afloat without a chart. And beg his British godship's humble pardon. There is an awkward thing which much perplexes. Upon whose back 't is better not to venture. with the French Or Swiss Rousseau. And hence high life is oft a dreary void. They run before the wind through high seas breaking. Thrice happy they who have an occupation! Adam exchanged his Paradise for ploughing. Though on the whole. that the church receives: And since that time it need not cost much showing. But both together form a kind of centaur. The sentimental boasts to be unmoved. 'T is odd. in his teeth. As far as I know.' Is much more to the purpose of his song. If in my extremity of rhyme's distress. That many of the ills o'er which man grieves. But. as I have cause to guess. I touch a single leaf where he is warden. But that in love such idleness has been An accessory. Helen.But though the flower is different. His other maxim. spring from not employing Some hours to make the remnant worth enjoying.' Saith Horace. A something all-sufficient for the heart Is that for which the sex are always seeking: But how to fill up that same vacant part? There lies the rub. Unless good company be kept too long. it may turn out a rock. Though even that were sometimes too ferocious. Your men of business are not apt to express Much passion. A rack of pleasures. from the Spartan's bed. 'Noscitur a sociis. Eve made up millinery with fig leavesThe earliest knowledge from the tree so knowing. since the merchant-ship. And still more women. There is a flower call'd 'Love in Idleness.I will not make his great description less. 'Beatus ille procul!' from 'negotiis.

than a stanch one. and romances Reduced to practice. Which you should perpetrate some summer's day. and blue-stockings. Those vegetables of the Catholic creed Are apt exceedingly to run to seed. Or else 't will cost us all another million. and perform'd like dances. means but cloy'd. But when the latter works its own undoing. O Wilberforce! thou man of black renown.A something wherewithal to be annoy'd. Her conduct had been perfectly correct. Especially when they would look like lies. Our gentle Adeline had one defectHer heart was vacant. Some truths are better kept behind a screen. Were there a jot of sense among mankind. let Bedlam out. doubtless. Shut up. As now with those of soi-disant sound mind. nor have it. Who eats fire gratis (since the pay 's but small). I own.now pray shut up the whites. Much as a monk may do within his cell: And a-propos of monks. And hence arise the woes of sentiment. Would some believe that such a tale had been: But such intent I never had. A wavering spirit may be easier wreck'd. Thou hast struck one immense Colossus down. upon an affidavit. I leave earth as 't was. Bards may sing what they please about Content. As she had seen nought claiming its expansion. Teach them that 'sauce for goose is sauce for gander. .no. when translated.'. But till that point d'appui is found. Nor. Shut up the world at large.and why? Because he mopeth idly in his shell. Contented. though a splendid mansion. if unto the world I ever gave it. And heaves a lonely subterraqueous sigh. Its inner crash is like an earthquake's ruin. their piety With sloth hath found it difficult to dwell. 'An oyster may be cross'd in love. You have freed the blacks. And set the other halt of earth to rights. Because 't is frailer. Shut up the bald-coot bully Alexander! Ship off the Holy Three to Senegal. but the Pavilion. alas! Like Archimedes. not the King.' And ask them how they like to be in thrall? Shut up each high heroic salamander. Whose merit none enough can sing or say. I therefore deal in generalities. I do declare. Blue devils. This I could prove beyond a single doubt. And you will be perhaps surprised to find All things pursue exactly the same route. Romances I ne'er read like those I have seen. Thou moral Washington of Africa! But there 's another little thing.

or thought so. She knew not her own heart. But when it was. and thus doubly namedFirmness yclept in heroes. which leads so oft amiss Ladies who have studied friendship but in France. Though much in temper. his friend.conjugal. but cold. Whene'er their triumph pales. or romance Of Platonism. . both in men and women. or thought she was. however she might flatter Herself that her intentions were the best. Where mingled and yet separate appears The river from the lake. she would have had the strength to fly The wild sensation. Intense intentions are a dangerous matter: Impressions were much stronger than she guess'd.Her husband's friend. kings. If such can e'er be drawn by man's capacity: My business is with Lady Adeline. and seamen. And gather'd as they run like growing water Upon her mind. Serene and noble. the more so. all bluely dash'd Through the serene and placid glassy deep. Or Germany.and this Without the farce of friendship. It had been firmness. no connubial turmoil: Their union was a model to behold. but that love Cost her an effort. her own. then how should I? I think not she was then in love with Juan: If so. or reprove. now 't is pertinacity: Must the event decide between the two? I leave it to your people of sagacity To draw the line between the false and true. Had Buonaparte won at Waterloo. which is a sad toil. if once we move Our feelings 'gainst the nature of the soil. where people purely kiss. Now when she once had ta'en an interest In any thing. she had that lurking demon Of double nature. or star is tamed:And 't will perplex the casuist in morality To fix the due bounds of this dangerous quality. unto her a new one: She merely felt a common sympathy (I will not say it was a false or true one) In him.She loved her lord. The stone of Sisyphus. Which fain would lull its river-child to sleep. Who in her way too was a heroine. Or like the Rhone by Leman's waters wash'd.. young. but they never clash'd: They moved like stars united in their spheres. but greatly blamed As obstinacy. when they succeed. and a stranger. She had nothing to complain of. She was. To thus much Adeline would not advance. There was no great disparity of years. as her breast Was not at first too readily impress'd. No bickerings. because she thought he was in danger. That is.

' Or serious. And how should the most fierce of all be firm? Would you have endless lightning in the skies? Methinks Love's very title says enough: How should 'the tender passion' e'er be tough? Alas! by all experience. and fight. I beg all men to forbear Anticipating aught about the matter: They 'll only make mistakes about the fair. far more than ever yet was LoveWho did not quit me when Oppression trod Upon me. whom no scandal could remove. seldom yet (I merely quote what I have heard from many) Had lovers not some reason to regret The passion which made Solomon a zany. if expedient. But true. which all friendship checks. The surest way for ladies and for books To bait their tender. No doubt the secret influence of the sex Will there.But of such friendship as man's may to man be She was as capable as woman can be. or studied Spanish To read Don Quixote in the original. my battles. I could prove) That faithful were through thick and thin. And Juan too. And keeps the atrocious reader in suspense. So that you have not been nor will be lovers. as the effect is fine. and display Considerable talent in my way. A pleasure before which all others vanish. as also in the ties of blood. . I opine: At present I am glad of a pretence To leave them hovering. where perhaps I shall Say something to the purpose. or walk'd. Will be discuss'd hereafter. especially the latter. in absence. Despite the snake Society's loud rattles. Above all. too. or their tenter. An innocent predominance annex. abroad. Yet made the misery of at least two lives. the best or worst of any) Who were the very paragons of wives. are the topics I must banish To the next Canto. Love bears within its breast the very germ Of change. Whether Don Juan and chaste Adeline Grew friends in this or any other sense. If free from passion. Who fought. hooks. I 've also seen some female friends ( 't is odd. Whether their talk was of the kind call'd 'small. No friend like to a woman earth discovers. Whether they rode. I 've also seen some wives (not to forget The marriage state. At home.as. and how should this be otherwise? That violent things more quickly find a term Is shown through nature's whole analogies. And your true feelings fully understood. And tune the concord to a finer mood.

rose from such a slight occasion. or 'Pooh!' Of which perhaps the latter is most true. Or a 'Ha! ha!' or 'Bah!'. As though the lurking thought had follow'd free. All present life is but an interjection.Would you think. as dangerous a passion As e'er brought man and woman to the brink Of ruin. How much would novels gain by the exchange! How differently the world would men behold! How oft would vice and virtue places change! The new world would be nothing to the old.What should follow slips from my reflection. AH!. Which ministers unto the soul's delight. Stranger than fiction. the whole 's a syncope Or a singultus. as is my notion. 't will be their ruin. The grand antithesis to great ennui. for truth is always strange. With self-love in the centre as their pole! What Anthropophagi are nine of ten Of those who hold the kingdoms in control Were things but only call'd by their right name. Few men dare show their thoughts of worst or best. If some Columbus of the moral seas Would show mankind their souls' antipodes. and therefore fiction . But great things spring from little:. I 'll bet you millions. but if they do.And I shall take a much more serious air Than I have yet done.emblems of emotion.a yawn. That in our youth. more or less. Dissimulation always sets apart A corner for herself. Corroding in the cavern of the heart. Caesar himself would be ashamed of fame.but true.. milliardsIt all sprung from a harmless game at billiards. Or miniature at least. And turning human nature to an art. Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be As a-propos of hope or retrospection.That watery outline of eternity. if it could be told. It is not clear that Adeline and Juan Will fall. Wherewith we break our bubbles on the ocean. But. Making the countenance a masque of rest. CANTO_THE_FIFTEENTH CANTO THE FIFTEENTH. But all are better than the sigh supprest. As few would ever dream could form the link Of such a sentimental situation? You 'll never guess. An 'Oh!' or 'Ah!' of joy or misery. In seeing matters which are out of sight. 'T is strange. in this epic satire. What 'antres vast and deserts idle' then Would be discover'd in the human soul! What icebergs in the hearts of mighty men.

' Whate'er thou takest. But Adeline was of the purest vintage. Must perch harmonious on my tuneful quill. You should be civil in a modest way: Suppress. in terms unhandsome. spare a while poor Beauty! She is so rare. Or glorious as a diamond richly set. and thou hast so much prey. Some splendid debtor he would take by sap: But oft denied. He cannot sink his tremors or his terrors. On ready money. Till old. who can not Remember. And for which Nature might forego her debtSole creditor whose process doth involve in 't The luck of finding every body solvent. Like a meek tradesman when. The ruby glass that shakes within his hand Leaves a sad sediment of Time's worst sand. passion's errors? The drainer of oblivion. he Advances with exasperated rap. And take as many heroes as Heaven pleases. and yet Bright as a new Napoleon from its mintage. There 's music in the sighing of a reed. O Death! thou dunnest of all duns! thou daily Knockest at doors. Fair Adeline. Ah! who can tell? Or rather.O love!. And (if let in) insists. ran a risk of growing less so. approaching palely. even the sot. And as for love. The Lady Adeline Amundeville. Hath got blue devils for his morning mirrors: What though on Lethe's stream he seem to float. the more ingenuous Where she was interested (as was said). without telling. A page where Time should hesitate to print age.I presume to guess so. When once decanted.alas! that I should say so! They differ as wine differs from its label. There 's music in the gushing of a rill. But will not swear: yet both upon occasion. Because she was not apt. then. The Lady Adeline. And honour'd.. To like too readily. if men had ears: Their earth is but an echo of the spheres. some slight feminine diseases. For few of the soft sex are very stable In their resolves. or 'a draft on Ransom. A pretty name as one would wish to read. There 's music in all things. Gaunt Gourmand! with whole nations for your booty. The unmingled essence of the grape. right honourable. like some of us.Is that which passes with least contradiction. at first with modest tap.We will proceed. or too high bred To show it (points we need not now discuss)- . may undergo adulteration. as patience 'gins to fail. The more 's the reason why you ought to stay. What though she now and then may slip from duty.

That is. yet courteously proud. his regard Was such as rather seem'd to keep aloof. Because he ne'er seem'd anxious to seduce. Like virtue.and 'verbum sat. In fact. since in England. Sincere he was. and his mind assumed a manlier vigour. His manner was perhaps the more seductive. He neither brook'd nor claim'd superiority. studied.' If once their phantasies be brought to bear Upon an object. Nothing affected.Would give up artlessly both heart and head Unto such feelings as seem'd innocent. right or wrong. . Serene. That live gazette. Was apt to add a colouring from her own: 'T is thus the good will amiably err. like Alcibiades. but women hear with more good humour Such aberrations than we men of rigour: Besides. no deep judge of character. Don Juan was without it. Yet ne'er betraying this in conversation. They are wrong. or constructive Of coxcombry or conquest: no abuse Of his attractions marr'd the fair perspective. his conduct. The devil hath not in all his quiver's choice An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice. accomplish'd. Insinuating without insinuation. had scatter'd to disfigure. As. By nature soft. Some parts of Juan's history. Because he had. To shield himself than put you on your guard: Perhaps 't was hardly quite assured enough. whether sad or playful. To indicate a Cupidon broke loose. In listening merely to his voice's tone. his whole address held off Suspicion: though not timid. if they told the truth. grew more Strict.that 's not the way to set about it. They can transfigure brighter than a Raphael. She had heard. So as to make them feel he knew his station And theirs:. and the absence of pretension Will go much farther than there 's need to mention. and their Imagination 's quite enough for that: So that the outline 's tolerably fair. For objects worthy of the sentiment. Proud with the proud. with men: with women he was what They pleased to make or take him for. cheerful but not loud. 'Resist us if you can'Which makes a dandy while it spoils a man. which Rumour.without a struggle for priority. his manner was his own alone. Adeline. could well be shown. But modesty 's at times its own reward. And seem to say.at least you could not doubt it. They fill the canvas up. The art of living in all climes with ease. Observant of the foibles of the crowd. But.

The third is still more difficult to stand to. . The second may be sadly done or gaily. Which may round off an hour upon a time. Was it not so. and say too. Because I hate even democratic royalty. But speculating as I cast mine eye On what may suit or may not suit my story. dic aliquando male. Of this I 'm sure at least. there 's no servility In mine irregularity of chime. and see. A modest hope.dic aliquando Et bene. I rattle on exactly as I 'd talk With any body in a ride or walk. I think I should have made a decent spouse. I perch upon an humbler promontory. I should turn the other way. But leave them to the conscience of the nations. The fourth we hear. Whose lot it is by man to be mistaken. So that I verily believe if they Who now are basking in their full-blown pride Were shaken down. Experience is the chief philosopher.' Though at the first I might perchance deride Their tumble. How was thy toil rewarded? We might fill Volumes with similar sad illustrations. I don't know that there may be much ability Shown in this sort of desultory rhyme. But there 's a conversational facility. And thy pure creed made sanction of all ill? Redeeming worlds to be by bigots shaken. great Locke? and greater Bacon? Great Socrates? And thou. if I had wish' to pay my court To critics. Amidst life's infinite variety: With no great care for what is nicknamed glory. Which rings what 's uppermost of new or hoary. But saddest when his science is well known: And persecuted sages teach the schools Their folly in forgetting there are fools. Diviner still.let us ramble on..but modesty 's my forte. And pride my feeble:. Just as I feel the 'Improvvisatore. dic neutrum. But now I can't tell where it may not run.but I was born for opposition. daily. The whole together is what I could wish To serve in this conundrum of a dish. And never straining hard to versify. But then 't is mostly on the weaker side.And eke the wise. as has been often shown. or to hail the setting sun Of tyranny of all kinds. my concision Were more. and 'dogs had had their day. And wax an ultra-royalist in loyalty. I meant to make this poem very short.' The first is rather more than mortal can do. No doubt.' 'Omnia vult belle Matho dicere.

As women hate half measures. And rend'ring general that which is especial. While yet America was in her non-age. yet flutter. . 'T is a flight Which seems at first to need no lofty wing.knights and dames I sing. He had a predilection for that tie. who must either draw again Days better drawn before. and this question carried. with all becoming deference. at present. And when you may not be sublime. Felt on the whole an interest intense. Plumed by Longinus or the Stagyrite: The difficultly lies in colouring (Keeping the due proportions still in sight) With nature manners which are artificial. my Muse! If you cannot fly. Or that he had an air of innocence. manners now make menPinn'd like a flock. But for my own peculiar superstition: 'Gainst rhyme I never should have knock'd my brows. Which is for innocence a sad temptation. At least nine. and a ninth beside of ten. or else assume The present. nor that of Priscian. But that. She had a good opinion of advice. Even where the article at highest rate is: She thought upon the subject twice or thrice. there might lie Some difficulties. Nor worn the motley mantle of a poet.March! March. or pink. with immediate reference To his own circumstances. the best state is For morals. And morally decided. be arch. We 'll do our best to make the best on 't:. on the whole. If some one had not told me to forego it. Now this at all events must render cold Your writers. and fleeced too in their fold.If I had never proved the soft condition. of no great tonnage. Nor broken my own head. I think I should have made monastic vows. The difference is. Such as the times may furnish. in all her growing sense Of Juan's merits and his situation. She 'gan to ponder how to save his soul. Or starch. For which small thanks are still the market price. marriage. as are the edicts statesmen utter. Or that of her to whom he might apply: That still he 'd wed with such or such a lady. as in his own preference. But 'laissez aller'. When Adeline. She seriously advised him to get married. Like all who give and eke receive it gratis. Or brigantine. with their common-place costume. that in the days of old Men made the manners.Partly perhaps because a fresh sensation. We surely may find something worth research: Columbus found a new world in a cutter. Juan replied.

beyond what I can term any Of ours. A third. For one a songstress who hath no defect. For t' other one who promises much duty. Although I wonder how it grew habitual. Unless a marriage was applied to mend The prospect and their morals: and besides. They have at hand a blooming glut of brides. some friend Of an old family. For this a lady no one can reject. but a preventative. by divorcing them thus oddly. But whether reverend Rapp learn'd this in Germany Or no. because there can be no objections. From these they will be careful to select. They generally have some only son. But never yet (except of course a miss Unwed. and for that a beauty. and leave posterity undone. some gay Sir john. Because he either meant to sneer at harmony Or marriage. with whom perhaps might end A line. Without those sad expenses which disparage What Nature naturally most encourages)Why call'd he 'Harmony' a state sans wedlock? Now here I 've got the preacher at a dead lock. Because it breeds no more mouths than it nourishes. not his ritual. A second for her excellent connections. Or wed already. Who favour. the only reason wherefore. There 's nothing women love to dabble in More (like a stock-holder in growing pelf) Than match-making in general: 't is no sin Certes. and patrons Of all the modest part of propagation. Whose sole accomplishments were quite a booty. brothers. or mistress never to be wed. My objection 's to his title. though sometimes They turn out melodrames or pantomimes. When Rapp the Harmonist embargo'd marriage In his harmonious settlement (which flourishes Strangely enough as yet without miscarriage. sisters. generationProfessors of that genial art. Some heir to a large property. although they propagate more broadly. 't is said his sect is rich and godly. And daughters. Observed as strictly both at board and bed As those of Aristotle. no doubt. Pious and pure. .If that they were not married all already. But Rapp is the reverse of zealous matrons. For this an heiress. Arranging them like books on the same shelf. who object to this) Was there chaste dame who had not in her head Some drama of the marriage unities. Which after all at such a desperate rate runs. Or grave Lord George. and therefore That is. Next to the making matches for herself. malgre Malthus. kith or kin.

too sweet an image for such glass.there was Indeed a certain fair and fairy one.Aurora Raby.' unless well: This he (as far as I can understand) meant. Like Holbein's 'Dance of Death'. but marriage should have quiet. But still her aspect had an air so lonely! . Rich. But certes it conducts to lives ascetic. 'T is not my purpose on his views to dwell Nor canvass what so 'eminent a hand' meant. But whether English dukes grew rare of late. And being consumptive. Of the best class. Had Adeline read Malthus? I can't tell.but why should I go on. And then there was. Or separate maintenance.and then there was some milk and water.the one 's as good as t' other. and Miss Knowman. And then there was the Miss Audacia Shoestring. who probably presumed That Juan had enough of maintenance. Who seem'd the cream of equanimity Till skimm'd. a young star who shone O'er life. with whom? There was the sage Miss Reading. I wish she had: his book 's the eleventh commandment. smooth as summer's sea. She took up with some foreign younger brother. but what did it matter? Love 's riotous. There was Miss Millpond. That sad result of passions and potatoesTwo weeds which pose our economic Catos. Or that she had not harp'd upon the true string. like watches. That usual paragon. Or turning marriage into arithmetic. Miss Raw.but 't is the same). A dashing demoiselle of good estate.That half its produce tends to emigration. 'Thou shalt not marry. if well wound up. May retrograde a little in the dance Of marriage (which might form a painter's fame. With a slight shade of blue too. Miss Showman. noble. Beneath the surface. after they are fairly groom'd. Which says. Unless the ladies should go off?. And might go on. Miss Flaw. and that 's enough for woman: But then. live on a milk diet. And the two fair co-heiresses Giltbedding. A lovely being. But Adeline. and better than her class. By which such sirens can attract our great. A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded. an only daughter. left an only Child to the care of guardians good and kind. but an orphan. in case 't was doom'dAs on the whole it is an even chance That bridegrooms. it might be. A Russ or Turk.But Adeline determined Juan's wedding In her own mind. Whose heart was fix'd upon a star or blue string. scarcely form'd or moulded. She deem'd his merits something more than common: All these were unobjectionable matches.

Radiant and grave. and as she was the last. Mournful. in friendless palaces. And this omission. statedAs usual. silent. alas! behind.but with an aspect beyond time. She gazed upon a world she scarcely knew. as of his persuasion. like that of the bust Of Brutus at the pageant of Tiberius. And the Pope thunder excommunication. She marvell'd 'what he saw in such a baby As that prim. She look'd as if she sat by Eden's door. as seraphs' shine. and where shall we find Feelings of youth like those which overthrown lie By death. As far as her own gentle heart allow'd. and had never bent or bow'd To novel power.Blood is not water. a home Is wanting.as pitying man's decline. Although her birth and wealth had given her vogue Beyond the charmers we have already cited. Since he was sure his mother would fall sick. Aurora was omitted. cold Aurora Raby?' Juan rejoin'd.but mournful of another's crime. She held their old faith and old feelings fast. To feel. when we are left. to be worth the trouble Of single gentlemen who would be double. lone. thus quietly she grew. If-' But here Adeline. And deem'd that fallen worship far more dear Perhaps because 't was fallen: her sires were proud Of deeds and days when they had fill'd the ear Of nations. And wherefore not? A reasonable reason. austere. And therefore fittest. and our best ties in the tomb? Early in years.the same reason which she late did. By many virtues. too. to say the least. As grows a flower. And grieved for those who could return no more. This he express'd half smiling and half serious. Her beauty also seem'd to form no clog Against her being mention'd as well fitted. And with an air.most strange in one so young! Now it so happen'd. and yet more infantine In figure. . sincere. Made Juan wonder. As seeking not to know it. who seem'd to pique Herself extremely on the inoculation Of others with her own opinions. in the catalogue Of Adeline. imperious.'She was a Catholic. she had something of sublime In eyes which sadly shone. There was awe in the homage which she drew. All youth. When Adeline replied with some disgust. as no doubt he must. and strong In its own strength. And kept her heart serene within its zone. silent. Her spirit seem'd as seated on a throne Apart from the surrounding world. She was a Catholic.

but 't is easier far. and has more caprices Than I have time. is none the worse for repetition. So the end 's gain'd. or will. what signifies the route? Why Adeline had this slight prejudiceFor prejudice it was. if we so may say. even a politician. A beauteous ripple of the brilliant stream Of rank and youth. Half virtues and whole vices being combined. . Perhaps she did not like the quiet way With which Aurora on those baubles look'd. But nature 's nature. If bad. For me appears a question far too nice.. Follies trick'd out so brightly that they blind:These seals upon her wax made no impression. His fame too. Being no sibyl in the new world's ways. the best way 's certainly to tease on. to take to pieces.against a creature As pure as sanctity itself from vice. Little Aurora deem'd she was the theme Of such discussion. of the child. alas! To say what it was not than what it was.If good. It was not scorn. Or. Than finding thus their genius stand rebuked. Juan was something she could not divine.which could not light on one Whose greatest fault was leaving few to find. It was not jealousy. though purer than the rest. or little.' by the few Who look upon them as they ought to do. she would have calmly smiledShe had so much.for he had that kind of fame Which sometimes plays the deuce with womankind. Since Adeline was liberal by nature. Faults which attract because they are not tame.what is just the same. Which charm most people in their earlier day: For there are few things by mankind less brook'd. Like 'Anthony's by Caesar. And womankind too. It was not envy.Adeline had none.it wearies out. Her place was far beyond it. Because she did not pin her faith on feature. Then turn'd unto the stars for loftier rays. It was not. A heterogeneous mass of glorious blame. I think: but shun Following the 'ignes fatui' of mankind. The dashing and proud air of Adeline Imposed not upon her: she saw her blaze Much as she would have seen a glow-worm shine. Yet she was nothing dazzled by the meteor. She was there a guest. and her mind. And amplify: you lose much by concision. With all the added charm of form and feature. Whereas insisting in or out of season Convinces all men. Which flow'd on for a moment in the beam Time sheds a moment o'er each sparkling crest. Had she known this.

or a sole ragout. yet resembling not his lost Haidee. b__ches. a pretty poet. not for 'dinner ready. But for that hour. and not less sincere. My Muse would run much more into excess. A turbot for relief of those who cram. ere the matter could be marr'd or mended. as lovely.Such was her coldness or her self-possession. Yet each was radiant in her proper sphere: The island girl. I Thought that it might turn out so. or was. with such skill as none would share it. But still I am. 'I sound my warison. The silvery bell rang. More warm. man.' There also was __ the sinner that I am! How shall I get this gourmand stanza through?'Soupe a la Beauveau. Juan knew nought of such a characterHigh. for should I stretch into detail. But though a 'bonne vivante. Than when some squeamish people deem her frail. Than witches. The conference or congress (for it ended As congresses of late do) of the Lady Adeline and Don Juan rather blended Some acids with the sweets. At least for this I cannot spare its vanity.' whose relief was dory. call'd half-hour. knives and forks For weapons.' Though God knows whence it came from. brew. In soups or sauces. the superlative of my comparativeScott. lord. But. Of one or both of whom he seems the heir. as my friend Scott says. for greater glory.now I know it. My Muse hath bred. too. I say. in my slight way I may proceed To play upon the surface of humanity.for she was heady. or physicians. given to dress. but what Muse since Homer 's able (His feasts are not the worst part of his works) To draw up in array a single day-bill Of modern dinners? where more mystery lurks. if There had not been one Shakspeare and Voltaire. Serf. and still perhaps may breed More foes by this same scroll: when I began it. Relieved itself by pork. And. I write the world. Nor would be thus:.' Scott. who can paint your Christian knight or Saracen. nor care if the world read.' I must confess . Having wound up with this sublime comparison. Was Nature's all: Aurora could not be. With massy plate for armour. But I must crowd all into one grand mess Or mass. Relieved with 'dindon a la Parigeux. bred up by the lone sea. There was a goodly 'soupe a la bonne femme. Methinks we may proceed upon our narrative. there was. Though ladies' robes seem scant enough for less.the difference in them Was such as lies between a flower and gem. Great things were now to be achieved at table.

which might again have slain young AmmonA man like whom I hope we shan't see many soon. from Adam's simple ration. Whereon Apicius would bestow his benison. The ladies with more moderation mingled In the feast.' it no less true is. the puree.Her stomach 's not her peccant part.' and 'salpicon'With things I can't withstand or understand. Farther I shall not follow the research: But oh! ye modern heroes with your cartridges. As form a science and a nomenclature From out the commonest demands of nature? The glasses jingled. While great Lucullus' Robe triumphal muffles (There 's fame) young partridge fillets. When will your names lend lustre e'en to partridges? Those truffles too are no bad accessaries. As white as Cleopatra's melted pearls.' slices eke of salmon. And 'entremets' to piddle with at hand. in gormandize excel. The diners of celebrity dined well. this tale However doth require some slight refection. Where is the arch Which nodded to the nation's spoils below? Where the triumphal chariots' haughty march? Gone to where victories must like dinners go. Which encyclopedize both flesh and fish. Though swallow'd with much zest upon the whole.' 'A l'Espagnole. What are the fillets on the victor's brow To these? They are rags or dust. But thinks less of good eating than the whisper (When seated next him) of some pretty lisper. Who would suppose. Then there was God knows what 'a l'Allemande. deck'd with truffles. Also the younger men too: for a springald Can't. All which I use to make my rhymes run glibber . pecking less than I can tell. and the palates tingled.' and haunch of venison. With 'sauces Genevoises.' The mind is lost in mighty contemplation Of intellect expanded on two courses. That cookery could have call'd forth such resources.a dish Of which perhaps the cookery rather varies. Wines too. The salmi. There 's pretty picking in those 'petits puits. Alas! I must leave undescribed the gibier. Gently to lull down the subsiding soul.' 'timballe. Follow'd by 'petits puits d'amour'. They also set a glazed Westphalian ham on. the consomme. like ripe age. According to the best of dictionaries. Just to relieve her spirits from dejection. Fowls 'a la Conde. But even sans 'confitures. And then there was champagne with foaming whirls. So every one may dress it to his wish. And indigestion's grand multiplication Requires arithmetic beyond my forces.

he was placed between Aurora and the Lady AdelineA situation difficult.' And fruits. the French will do. I sometimes almost think that eyes have ears: This much is sure.which pass'd without a word! Aurora sat with that indifference Which piques a preux chevalier. and contain'd a world of zest. in open-air. all in masquerade. The guests were placed according to their roll. Hast ever had the gout? I have not had itBut I may have. And vegetables.as it ought: Of all offences that 's the worst offence. with eyes and heart. though no coxcomb in pretence. that 't was drest Superbly. so loudly though it rings. flesh. there are sometimes certain signs Which prove plain English truer of the two. dread it. like Diogenes. Was not exactly pleased to be so caught. addressing few words to him. With two transcendent eyes seem'd to look through him. For Adeline. Athens. and you too. Which no one bears. things Are somehow echoed to the pretty dears. and Lucca. Of which I can't tell whence their knowledge springs. For man therein. best allies of wine. 'Bubble and squeak' would spoil my liquid lay: But I have dined. Now Juan. But after. Of whom half my philosophy the progeny is. Amidst this tumult of fish. that. But so far like a lady. Alas! The chaste description even of a 'becasse. but a dish. I ween. Like a good ship entangled among ice. Must I pass over in my bill of fare? I must. And after so much excellent advice. although a favourite 'plat' of mine In Spain. and all that art refines From nature for the service of the goutTaste or the gout. as hath been said. Like that same mystic music of the spheres. reader. On Sunium or Hymettus. 'T is wonderful how oft the sex have heard Long dialogues. . out of earshot. By some odd chance too. Also the conference which we have seen Was not such as to encourage him to shine. and ice. to dine. To his gay nothings. and 'fowl. But various as the various meats display'd: Don Juan sat next 'an l'Espagnole'No damsel. nothing was replied.. The simple olives. The grass my table-cloth. Which seems to hint you are not worth a thought. and must forego.Than could roast beef in our rough John Bull way: I must not introduce even a spare rib here. every where: On them and bread 't was oft my luck to dine.pronounce it as inclines Your stomach! Ere you dine.

' A kind of triumph I 'll not recommend. they say. but she here too much refinedAurora's spirit was not of that kind. Began to dread she'd thaw to a coquetteSo very difficult. or absence. To females of perspicuous comprehensions. as I have seen or read it. And wins even by a delicate dissent. for his own credit. if such there be. Juan was drawn thus into some attentions. con. too. Slight but select. Will pique a gentleman. And look'd as much as if to say. Aurora at the last (so history mentions. To bring what was a jest to a serious end: For all men prophesy what is or was. Now though we know of old that looks deceive. As once or twice to smile. if not to listen. That he would rather make them more than less. And then he had good looks.Or something which was nothing. Which show'd such deference to what females say. as urbanity Required. Aurora. somehow these good looks . when once set In motion. Aurora scarcely look'd aside. amongst the women. though she deem'd he had more sense Than whispering foplings. Because it sometimes. or inanity? Heaven knows? But Adeline's malicious eyes Sparkled with her successful prophecies.that point was carried Nem. From answering she began to question. con.. And always have done. His tact. with the marriedA case which to the juries we may leave. Though probably much less a fact than guess) So far relax'd her thoughts from their sweet prison. Nor even smiled enough for any vanity. A proud humility. this With her was rare: and Adeline. Both in the case of lover and of friend. who in her indifference Confounded him in common with the crowd Of flatterers. 'I said it. or than witlings loudCommenced (from such slight things will great commence) To feel that flattery which attracts the proud Rather by deference than compliment. Since with digressions we too long have tarried. And taught him when to be reserved or free: He had the art of drawing people out. who as yet Thought her predictions went not much amiss. which I grieve To say leads oft to crim. Without their seeing what he was about. temper'd him from grave to gay. And hate those who won't let them come to pass. and just enough to express. it is To keep extremes from meeting. But Juan had a sort of winning way. The devil was in the girl! Could it be pride? Or modesty. As if each charming word were a decree.

never will. too.which seems a sorry jest: But if a writer should be quite consistent. that. Or old indulge man with a second sight.' Also observe. And really. and parable. in a nook. Which Plato in his dialogues dramatic Has shown. the second is the best. How could he possibly show things existent? If people contradict themselves. Has not the natural stays of strict old age.always in a modest way. God help us! Since we have need on our career To keep our holy beacons always bright. that model of all duty. fable. And Socrates. but may he render'd also true. Opinions wear out in some thousand years. Aurora. That she must often navigate o'er fiction. Especially upon a printed page. But Virtue's self.Make more impression than the best of books. like the great Lord Coke (See Littleton). which at first sight may look Twin opposites. But here again. as Socrates. Religion? Yes. for that with me 's a 'sine qua. Observe. And girls of sixteen are thus far Socratic. Was very young. why will I thus entangle Myself with metaphysics? None can hate So much as I do any kind of wrangle. whene'er I have express'd Opinions two. for beauty. such is my folly. Are false. who look'd more on books than faces.how should I? He who doubts all things nothing can deny: Truth's fountains may be clear. though discreet. Without a small refreshment from the spheres. but which of all her sects? Some millions must be wrong. 'T is wonderful what fable will not do! 'T is said it makes reality more bearable: But what 's reality? Who has its clue? Philosophy? No: she too much rejects. although so very sage. Perhaps it may turn out that all were right. can Help contradicting them. And yet. By those who sow them in a land that 's arable.But that 's a lie: I never did so. poesy. Even my veracious self?. 'T is time that some new prophet should appear. Admiring more Minerva than the Graces. that 's pretty dear. I always knock my head against some angle .her streams are muddy. Or none at all. But innocently so. Perhaps I have a third. with all her tightest laces. or my fate. and every body. if the sage sublime and Attic At seventy years had phantasies like these. Own'd to a penchant. Apologue. And cut through such canals of contradiction. I know not why they should displease In virgins.

'Shadows the soul of Richard' may appal. that we may furnish with some matter all Tastes. I' ll begin a thorough reformation. My smiles must be sincere or not at all. And now and then a nightingale) is dim. And stuff with sage that very verdant goose. if I ever think. For you have got that pleasure still to come: And do not think I mean to sneer at most Of these things. The dying embers dwindle in the grateI think too that I have sate up too late: And therefore. The night (I sing by night. Indeed. In short. And now. or future state. but you have heard.and where? That shall I not recall. And positively henceforth no temptation Shall 'fool me to the top up of my bent:'Yes. Because I 'd rather it should be forgot. Not only for the sake of their variety. or by ridicule benumb That source of the sublime and the mysterious:For certain reasons my belief is serious. Are topics which I sometimes introduce. Impartial between Tyrian and Trojan. It makes my blood boil like the springs of Hecla. I never knew what people meant By deeming that my Muse's conversation Was dangerous. I say I do believe a haunted spot Exists. And now I will give up all argument.I understand. Because my business is to dress society. and piety. we are going to try the supernatural.. For I was bred a moderate Presbyterian. And the loud shriek of sage Minerva's fowl Rattles around me her discordant hymn: Old portraits from old walls upon me scowlI wish to heaven they would not look so grim. Yet I wish well to Trojan and to Tyrian.sometimes an owl. To see men let these scoundrel sovereigns break law.About the present.when I have other things To think of.I say . and policy.. But though I am a temperate theologian. But as subservient to a moral use. upon that subject I 've some qualms very Like those of the philosopher of Malmsbury. But politics. And also meek as a metaphysician. Serious? You laugh. though 't is by no means my way To rhyme at noon. past. As Eldon on a lunatic commissionIn politics my duty is to show John Bull something of the lower world's condition.I think she is as harmless As some who labour more and yet may charm less.you may: that will I not. Grim reader! did you ever see a ghost? No.be dumb! And don't regret the time you may have lost.

this epic will contain A wilderness of the most rare conceits. Treating a topic which. Lash'd from the foam of ages. But this I must say in my own applause. or this defect. alas! but brings Shadows. CANTO_THE_SIXTEENTH CANTO THE SIXTEENTH. I said it was a story of a ghostWhat then? I only know it so befell. mine 's beyond all contradiction The most sincere that ever dealt in fiction. How little do we know that which we are! How less what we may be! The eternal surge Of time and tide rolls on. The cause of this effect. . since my tale is 'De rebus cunctis et quibusdam aliis. At speaking truth perhaps they are less clever. and ne'er retreats From any thing. Of all the Muses that I recollect. Horses they ride without remorse or ruth. This was the mode of Cyrus. And as she treats all things.'Is what I have not leisure to inspect.'For this effect defective comes by cause. generally with two strings. until mid-day. But draw the long bow better now than ever. and speak the truth. while the graves Of empires heave but like some passing waves. Yet mix'd so slightly. best of kingsA mode adopted since by modern youth. that you can't complain. new emerge. Some people would impose now with authority. But wonder they so few are.I feel some chilly midnight shudderings. the most True is that which she is about to tell. to ride. Who bids all men believe the impossible.but you must be in my condition Before you learn to call this superstition. Whate'er may be her follies or her flaws In some things. Turpin's or Monmouth Geoffry's Chronicle. To draw the bow. Men whose historical superiority Is always greatest at a miracle. THE antique Persians taught three useful things.. Have you explored the limits of the coast. as the old burst. and bears afar Our bubbles. upon the horizon's verge. And prudently postpone. Bows have they. Which you might elsewhere hope to find in vain. 'T is true there be some bitters with the sweets. Where all the dwellers of the earth must dwell? 'T is time to strike such puny doubters dumb as The sceptics who would not believe Columbus. 'Twixt night and morn.' But of all truths which she has told. But Saint Augustine has the great priority. Between two worlds life hovers like a star.

scribble. to recall Those holier mysteries which the wise and just Receive as gospel. Or like a system coupled with a doubt. quibble. Or like a soda bottle when its spray Has sparkled and let half its spirit out. Is. or like. So perish every tyrant's robe piece-meal! But next to dressing for a rout or ball. Titus exclaim'd. The evaporation of a joyous day Is like the last glass of champagne. mortals. A thing. but less clear than amber. none at present can tell how. and recall Thoughts quite as yellow. And if it is impossible. The banqueteers had dropp'd off one by oneThe song was silent.and the peeping moon. you shall: 'T is always best to take things upon trust. the more they are disputed: I merely mean to say what Johnson said. cavil not at all. the dames admired. And what is strangest upon this strange head. Felt restless. without The foam which made its virgin bumper gay. that whatever bar the reason rears 'Gainst such belief. some not to be disdain'd). Without the animation of the wind. I wish they 'd state how many they have gain'd.. let those deny who will.like nothing that I know Except itself.' And therefore. And nothing brighter gleam'd through the saloon Than dying tapers.such is the human breast. and which grow more rooted. which brings troubled rest. he Quiets at once with 'quia impossibile. I do not speak profanely.if 't is improbable you must. and the dance expired: The last thin petticoats were vanish'd. gone Like fleecy Clouds into the sky retired. on retiring for the night. The dinner and the soiree too were done. Or none. Who nibble. Undressing is a woe. As all truths must.Because 't is so. and perplex'd. Believe:. . our robe de chambre May sit like that of Nessus. Or like an opiate.. of which similitudes can show No real likeness. The supper too discuss'd. If from a shell-fish or from cochineal. All nations have believed that from the dead A visitant at intervals appears. And Juan. and compromised: He thought Aurora Raby's eyes more bright Than Adeline (such is advice) advised. That in the course of some six thousand years. there 's something stronger still In its behalf. Or like a billow left by storms behind.like the old Tyrian vest Dyed purple. 'I 've lost a day!' Of all The nights and days most people can remember (I have had of both.

which Of these is not exactly ascertain'd (I state this. poet. whoever may behold.. furnish'd with old pictures of great worth. if there be truth in lays. and shadows wild and quaint Start from the frames which fence their aspects stern. Let in the rippling sound of the lake's billow. The forms of the grim knight and pictured saint Look living in the moon. With all the mystery by midnight caused.'O thou!' Of amatory egotism the Tuism. and ne'er denied Till wanted. where he was enclosed. Where all sighs are deposited.the next resource is the full moon. Which further to explain would be a truism. Of knights and dames heroic and chaste too. But by dim lights the portraits of the dead Have something ghastly. unless my feelings rather err). And also hearts. He probably would have philosophised: A great resource to all. Where many a Gothic ornament remain'd. As doubtless should be people of high birth. where a fact is to be gain'd). in starlight gleams.voices from the urn Appear to wake.If he had known exactly his own plight. Feel some abstraction when they gaze on her: Great thoughts we catch from thence (besides a cold Sometimes. and all That time has left our fathers of their hall. Deep secrets to her rolling light are told. Shepherd. and now It happen'd luckily. for I am cautious to a pitch Of nicety. And Juan's mind was in the proper tone To hail her with the apostrophe. And he stood gazing out on the cascade That flash'd and after darken'd in the shade. or astronomer. and as you turn Backward and forward to the echoes faint Of your own footsteps. Then. Below his window waved (of course) a willow.A lamp burn'd high. and dread. therefore Juan only sigh'd. He sigh'd. . Upon his table or his toilet. the chaste orb shone As clear as such a climate will allow. But lover. In chisell'd stone and painted glass. or swain. while he leant from a niche. as the night was clear though cold.. and disposed For contemplation rather than his pillow: The Gothic chamber. desolate. Juan felt somewhat pensive. of a sombre hue. where all but death should sleep. Long. As if to ask how you can dare to keep A vigil there. he threw His chamber door wide open.and went forth Into a gallery. And the pale smile of beauties in the grave. The charms of other days. The ocean's tides and mortals' brains she sways.

But death is imaged in their shadowy beams.the thing of air. thrice pass'd. When suddenly he heard. after a still longer pause. Glanced. or heaven. but Juan could not state Through which the spectre seem'd to evaporate. or t' other place. Now in the moonlight. like gold compared with paper. The shadow pass'd away. As Juan mused on mutability. which were not granted. Or on his mistress. on its base As stands a statue. twice. and as he pass'd Juan by. he did surmise. like most men. but it seem'd An age. without pausing. or spars within some dusky cave. with his eyes Strain'd on the spot where first the figure gleam'd. repass'd. nigh. But slowly. To ask the reverend person what he wanted. he had heard a hint Of such a spirit in these halls of old.Glimmer on high. and thus far there was no great cause To think his vanishing unnatural: Doors there were many. But could not wake. who sate hath ceased to be the same. bodies whether short or tall Might come or go. Which passes ghosts in currency like gold.expectant. he was. He tax'd his tongue for words. The third time. by the laws Of physics. through which. He moved as shadowy as the sisters weird. Waking already.or a mouse. A picture is the past. Or earth beneath. But thought. or thought so. With steps that trod as heavy. but. their buried locks still wave Along the canvas. appear'd.but where? the hall Was long. and return'd at length Back to his chamber.how long he knew not. yet unheard. His garments only a slight murmur made. . Whose little nibbling rustle will embarrass Most people as it plays along the arras.terms synonymousNo sound except the echo of his sigh Or step ran sadly through that antique house. Juan was petrified. even ere its frame Be gilt. And did he see this? or was it a vapour? Once. stood: he felt his hair Twine like a knot of snakes around his face. He stood. their eyes glance like dreams On ours. Yet could not speak or move. And would have pass'd the whole off as a dream. but lo! a monk. But rarely seen. and now lapsed in shade. A supernatural agent. shorn of half his strength. array'd In cowl and beads and dusky garb. It was no mouse. Then by degrees recall'd his energies. powerless. there was nothing in 't Beyond the rumour which such spots unfold. And Juan gazed upon it with a stare. on him a bright eye. Coin'd from surviving superstition's mint.

There. Lord Henry said his muffin was ill butter'd. Knock'd to inform him it was time to dress. And when he walk'd down into the saloon. His curls fell negligently o'er his front. Aurora Raby with her large dark eyes Survey'd him with a kind of calm surprise. but nothing utter'd. The paper was right easy to peruse. I think about Horne Tooke. He read an article the king attacking.yes. the more his mind was posed: In the mean time. And though it was no opiate.but what she could not well divine. but what 's not stated in my tale.rather. He dress'd. The Duchess of Fitz-Fulke play'd with her veil. and after having read A paragraph. as may be supposed.' This savour'd of this world. slumber crept Upon him by degrees.no. He sate him pensive o'er a dish of tea. He woke betimes. and like young people he was wont To take some trouble with his toilet. and not blue. whose precision Was great.All there was as he left it: still his taper Burnt. couch'd all snugly on his pillow's nook. Which he perhaps had not discover'd soon.' The family physician had great skill. his valet. but his hand shookHe shut his door. and. and saw him pale. Which made him have recourse unto his spoon. At risk of being quizz'd for superstition. Had it not happen'd scalding hot to be. and rather slowly went to bed. and said. With what he had seen his phantasy he fed. now began to express . So much distrait he was. He rubb'd his eyes. because his master brook'd no less. And a long eulogy of 'patent blacking. and they did not refuse Their office. Aside his very mirror soon was put. But seeing him all cold and silent still.Adeline The first. as modest tapers use. Ponder'd upon his visitant or vision. And whether it ought not to be disclosed. and so he slept. Receiving sprites with sympathetic vapour. And everybody wondering more or less. 'Yes. then hastily look'd down. Fair Adeline enquired. and turn'd as pale Herself. And being present. and mutter'd Something. that all could see That something was the matter. but This morning rather spent less time upon 't. And look'd at Juan hard. The more he thought. His clothes were not curb'd to their usual cut. His very neckcloth's Gordian knot was tied Almost an hair's breadth too much on one side. She look'd. Undrest. 'If he were ill?' He started. he took up an old newspaper.

yes. Juan had not got his usual look elate.' quoth he. Because the present tale has oft been told. hereditary twinges Of gout. Or careless. Said. 't was so long ago. Also the muffin whereof he complain'd.'I pray. And is not much improved by growing old. whose strings were kindled soon As touch'd. 'which you made.'Well. Adeline. Then Henry turn'd to Juan.'if you but design To jest.' 'But add the words.'In truth not I. as he himself seem'd loth To state the case.'. of which by and by: Whether with time the spectre has grown shyer. he smiling said.' 'Jest!' quoth Milor. She seized her harp. who had now discuss'd his chocolate. Something like illness of a sudden growth Weigh'd on his spirit. and address'd A few words of condolence on his state: 'You look.' said Adeline (Who watch'd the changes of Don Juan's brow. though the tale is half believed. But. 'why. Then ask'd her Grace what news were of the duke of late? Her Grace replied.' Turning round to the rest. it might be ta'en for granted It was not the physician that he wanted. 'as if you had had your rest Broke in upon by the Black Friar of late. come. 'The last time was __'.' Graceful as Dian. 'He was quite well. since it had not rain'd.but Fame you know 's sometimes a liarTells an odd story.no. and plaintively began to play The air of ''T was a Friar of Orders Gray. Or that our sires had a more gifted eye For such sights. when she draws her bow.. At which he marvell'd. you 'll choose some other theme just now. However they might savour of delirious.' cried Henry. and he did his best To put the question with an air sedate. no matter. For Adeline is half a poetess. though by no means serious: But for the rest.' 'Quite well. 'Oh! have you never heard of the Black Friar? The spirit of these walls?'. his Grace was rather pain'd With some slight. light.' 'What friar?' said Juan. Of course the others could not but express . you know That we ourselves.'t was in the honey-moonSaw __'. but the effort was not valid To hinder him from growing still more pallid. which rusts aristocratic hinges. And yet his looks appear'd to sanction both. And from its context thought she could divine Connexions stronger then he chose to avow With this same legend).His readiness to feel his pulse and tell The cause.These answers were mysterious.' 'Why Fame. but Juan said. Lord Henry. The friar of late has not been oft perceived. I 'll set your story to a tune.

Say nought to him as he walks the hall. After some fascinating hesitation. He flits on the bridal eve. To turn church lands to lay.The charming of these charmers. who seem bound.In courtesy their wish to see display'd By one three talents. unchased. the harper's skill. in the "we moonshine He walks from hall to hall. for there were no lessThe voice. 'T is shadow'd by his cowl. With sword in hand. And he 'll say nought to you. Nor wine nor wassail could raise a vassal To question that friar's right. Though he came in his might. I can't tell why. to their bed of death He comes. He still retains his sway. unchain'd. but not his face. 't is said. and he 's seen in the church. And whether for good. It is not mine to say. And his mass of the days that are gone. at once Could hardly be united by a dunce. and torch to light Their walls. And when aught is to befall That ancient line. Added her sweet voice to the lyric sound.Fair Adeline. then kindling into animation. Amundeville is lord by day. For he mutters his prayer in the midnight air. the words. But beware! beware! of the Black Friar. Who sitteth by Norman stone. Beware! beware! of the Black Friar. When the Lord of the Hill.. A monk remain'd. But still with the house of Amundeville He abideth night and day. And 't is held as faith. And sang with much simplicity. By the marriage-bed of their lords. For he is yet the church's heir Whoever may be the lay. And expell'd the friars. one friar still Would not be driven away. to this dissimulation. Amundeville. But his eyes may be seen from the folds between. And they seem of a parted soul. that we seldom hear it. For he 's seen in the porch. with King Henry's right. or whether for ill.but not to grieve. with eyes fix'd on the ground At first. Though he is not seen by day. And he did not seem form'd of clay. . His form you may trace. he 's heard to mourn.a merit Not the less precious. When an heir is born. Made Norman Church his prey. if they said nay. But the monk is lord by night.

Thus Adeline would throw into the shade (By doing easily. The lady's voice ceased. Nor less applauds. As o'er the grass the dew. The calentures of music which o'ercome All mountaineers with dreams that they are nigh lands. Now this (but we will whisper it aside) Was. Let ours be for his soul. if it were worth her while. Show off. That bring Lochaber back to eyes that roam O'er far Atlantic continents or islands. . Heaven sain him. Fair Adeline.pardon the pedantic illustrationTrampling on Plato's pride with greater pride. The 'Mamma Mia's!' and the 'Amor Mio's!' The 'Tanti palpiti's' on such occasions: The 'Lasciami's. And that it is so everybody knows Who have heard Miss That or This. As if she rated such accomplishment As the mere pastime of an idle day. Pursued an instant for her own content. and the thrilling wires Died from the touch that kindled them to sound. What dilettanti do with vast parade) Their sort of half profession. With 'Tu mi chamas's' from Portingale. and the execution. Oh! the long evenings of duets and trios! The admirations and the speculations.He sweeps along in his dusky pall. fair or foul! And whatsoe'er may be his prayer. Deeming the sage would be much mortified. To the performer's diffident confusion. as in politeness bound. For a spoil'd carpet.but the 'Attic Bee' Was much consoled by his own repartee. Would now and then as 't were without display. And the pause follow'd. at times relent To such performances with haughty smile. To soothe our ears.to please their company or mother. as compositions. which when song expires Pervades a moment those who listen round. As did the Cynic on some like occasion. for it grows To something like this when too oft display'd. lest Italy should fail. And then of course the circle much admires. In Babylon's bravuras. Then grammercy! for the Black Friar. the feeling. though in a careless way.as the home Heart-ballads of Green Erin or Gray Highlands. No more to be beheld but in such visionsWas Adeline well versed. whene'er she chose. The tones. Yet with display in fact. To show she could. or Lady T'other. Or thrown into a philosophic passion.' and quavering 'Addio's!' Amongst our own most musical of nations.

or 'bouts rimes.at least this minute. A little turn for mischief you might trace Also thereon.' which she deem'd pathetic. graceful. But so far the immediate effect Was to restore him to his self-propriety. Not so her gracious. whose mind.but that 's not much. The full-grown Hebe of Fitz-Fulke. was upon her face. But of all verse. the bard had really been prophetic Of what she had gone through with. for in her There was a depth of feeling to embrace Thoughts. But wish'd for a still more detail'd narration . Perhaps she might wish to confirm him in it. what most ensured her praise Were sonnets to herself. in bringing this same lay To bear on what appear'd to her the subject Of Juan's nervous feelings on that day. Which now-a-days is the thermometer By whose degrees all characters are class'dWas more Shakspearian. Her Grace. And that was of a fascinating kind. if I do not err. Who wish to take the tone of their society: In which you cannot be too circumspect. Made epigrams occasionally too Upon her friends. But still from that sublimer azure hue. graceless Grace. I have not heard she was at all poetic.since a bride. For fear we should suppose us quite in heaven. she was remote. If she had any. deep. and compose more than she wrote. also seized the same occasion. With various similar remarks to tally. On pain of much displeasing the gynocracy. but silent too as Space. too. as everybody ought. Though once she was seen reading the 'Bath Guide. Because she said her temper had been tried So much. The worlds beyond this world's perplexing waste Had more of her existence. Whether the mode be persiflage or piety. was not ashamed to show it.She also had a twilight tinge of 'Blue. Though why I cannot say. Perhaps she merely had the simple project To laugh him out of his supposed dismay.' And 'Hayley's Triumphs. Was weak enough to deem Pope a great poet. and without more explanation To jest upon such themes in many a sally.. So much the present dye.' Could write rhymes. And therefore Juan now began to rally His spirits. Aurora. A thing quite necessary to the elect. boundless. But wear the newest mantle of hypocrisy. we find Few females without some such gentle leaven.' 'T were difficult to say what was the object Of Adeline. And what was worse.since we are touching upon taste.

but thought The civil list he deigns to accept (obliging all His subjects by his gracious acceptation) Too scanty. So that he would have been the very donor. And a young race-horse of old pedigree Match'd for the spring. Though princes the possessor were besieging all. By which Lord Henry's good taste would go forth in Its glory. if not arts.' Set to some thousands ('t is the usual burden Of that same tune. There was a goodly match too. in these times of low taxation. which sure are Discord's torches. There was a modern Goth. had his wants been fewer. The company prepared to separate. Some to their several pastimes. With motives the most classical and pure. when people hum it long)The price would speedily repay its worth in An edifice no less sublime than strong. Might have from time acquired some slight defect.the owner. I mean a Gothic Bricklayer of Babel. They pass'd as such things do. For Gothic daring shown in English money.never known to fail. answer'd in a way to cloud it. Brought to survey these grey walls. And one on tithes. not for sale. Of these few could say more than has been said. So precious that it was not to be bought. when cross-question'd on the vision. the mid-day having worn to one.The friend of artists. The king himself had cheapen'd it. or to none. Which some supposed (though he had not avow'd it) Had stirr'd him. The cost would be a trifle. About the present family's deaths and wooings. There were two lawyers busy on a mortgage Lord Henry wish'd to raise for a new purchase. Had brought the capo d'opera. some so late. Who after rummaging the Abbey through thick And thin.. which though so thick. But as Lord Henry was a connoisseur. And throw down old. warranted original.Of this same mystic friar's curious doings. Also a lawsuit upon tenures burgage. half credited the strange tradition. And then. for superstition With some. produced a plan whereby to erect New buildings of correctest conformation. But for his judgment. There was a picture-dealer who had brought A special Titian. Some wondering 't was so early. And much was talk'd on all sides on that head: But Juan.which he call'd restoration. So much he deem'd his patronage an honour. whom several went to see.an 'old song. to be run Between some greyhounds on my lord's estate. while others. Rather than seller. call'd an architect. who had more in dread The theme. . through all ages shining sunny.

for blushes are for quality. their place of convalescence. 'Untying' squires 'to fight against the churches. alas! unclosed with rigour. A reel within a bottle is a mystery. the men sent From town. Perhaps she was ashamed of seeming frail. But stood in trembling. as in higher dames less hale 'T is white. at least when they just rise from bed. Her black.since. architect and dealer. Exulting in their brilliant lucubrations. Therefore the present piece of natural history I leave to those who are fond of solving doubt. Presents the problem of a double figure. And merely state. Perhaps these are most difficult to tame: Preserving partridges and pretty wenches Are puzzles to the most precautious benches. To be call'd up for her examination. There was a country girl in a close cap And scarlet cloak (I hate the sight to see. her cheek being red By nature. and in air The prize pig. Not nigh the gay saloon of ladies gent. Nor insolent enough to scorn the scorner. For she was not a sentimental mourner Parading all her sensibility.. a prize pig. Pale as if painted so. I had the sad mishapBut luckily I have paid few parish fees since): That scarlet cloak. poachers. downcast. yet espiegle eye. Which the poor thing at times essay'd to dry. Had gather'd a large tear into its corner. Ready for gaol. and ploughman.in youth. the parish guardian of the frail. excepting tithes and leases. viz.Kindling Religion till she throws down her gage. Lord Henry was a justice. And knew no better in her immorality Than to wax white. The lawyers in the study. Had bagg'd this poacher upon Nature's manor. While Scout. were Both busy (as a general in his tent Writing despatches) in their several stations. But this poor girl was left in the great hall. beneath a warrant's banner. Of course these groups were scatter'd here and there. bright. Now justices of peace must judge all pieces Of mischief of all kinds. For Henry was a sort of Sabine showman. One can't tell how it e'er got in or out.' There was a prize ox. and that Scout The constable. ploughman. . Poor soul! for she was country born and bred. patient tribulation. There were two poachers caught in a steel trap. though not for the consistory. The present culprit was extremely pale. And of all things. and keep the game And morals of the country from caprices Of those who have not a license for the same. sinceSince.

' But once a week or fortnight. His son. He was 'free to confess' (whence comes this phrase? Is 't English? No.'t is only parliamentary) That innovation's spirit now-a-days Had made more progress than for the last century. He added modestly. But county contests cost him rather dearer. He was all things to all men. Was member for the 'other interest' (meaning The same self-interest. uninvited (Thus we translate a general invitation). Those who in counties have great land resources Have 'Public days. esquired or knighted. Because.Discuss'd (he hated beer yclept the 'small') A mighty mug of moral double ale. His word had the same value as another's.' when all men may carouse. Courteous and cautious therefore in his county.he held. And. to others bounty. All country gentlemen. Such was his sovereign's pleasure (though unfit. Lord Henry was a great electioneerer. A friend to freedom and freeholders. May drop in without cards. To hold some sinecures he wish'd abolish'd. . She waited until justice could recall Its kind attentions to their proper pale.a child's father. and preparation Below stairs on the score of second courses. he Not calculating how much they condensed. with a different leaning). To name a thing in nomenclature rather Perplexing for most virgins. But what with keeping some. when rebels rail'd). link'd with dogs and horses. Burrowing for boroughs like a rat or rabbit.albeit compell'd. as suits their rank and situation. and dispensed To some civility. That he exactly the just medium hit 'Twixt place and patriotism. as the isthmus of the grand connection. You see here was enough of occupation For the Lord Henry. and take their station At the full board. the Honourable Dick Dicedrabbit. But that with them all law would be demolish'd. he could but say this of it. Though not exactly what 's call'd 'open house. Though for the public weal disposed to venture high. And promises to all. and sit alike delighted With fashionable wines and conversation. That the fatigue was greater than the profit.yet No less a friend to government. There was much bustle too.which last commenced To gather to a somewhat large amount. Because the neighbouring Scotch Earl of Giftgabbit Had English influence in the self-same sphere here. He would not tread a factious path to praise. and breaking others. Talk o'er themselves the past and next election. As for his place.

much formality. The country would have far more cause to weep it: For how could it go on? Explain who can! He gloried in the name of Englishman. and last to quit the search Of the poor partridge through his stubble screen. But 't was a public feast and public day. and kings. Thus on the mob all statesmen are as eager To prove their pride.Quite full.shore. and coursers keen. For any deviation from the graces Might cost both man and master too. the grace I should have sungBut I 'm too late. I 'll touch No more on this. And every body out of their own sphere. He was as independent. I say no more. as footmen to a beggar. The very servants puzzling how to hand Their plates. and his friends.or upon the hustings.ay. like their masters. Septembrizers. As common soldiers. fearful of offending. Till duly disappointed or dismiss'd: Profit he care not for. whose strings Have tied together commons. let others reap it. Great plenty. Some deadly shots too.Heaven. And grace is said. All this (save the last stanza) Henry said. But could he quit his king in times of strife. 'T was a great banquet. such as Albion old Was wont to boast.I 've said too much. and therefore must make play. nor greyhounds deign'd to lurch.some slight such Hints from the independent heart or head Of the official candidate. The squires familiarly formal. Who do not give professional attendance. small cheer. and My lords and ladies proudly condescending.without it might be too much bending From their high places by the sideboard's standYet. Have in their several arts or parts ascendance O'er the irregulars in lust or gore. or a common. There were some massy members of the church. and dishes cold. But should the day come when place ceased to exist. Sooner 'come lace into the civil list And champion him to the utmost'. There were some hunters bold. . Which threaten'd the whole country with perdition? When demagogues would with a butcher's knife Cut through and through (oh! damnable incision!) The Gordian or the Geordi-an knot.the dinner-bell hath rung. knew that a private life Had ever been his sole and whole ambition.he would keep it. right dull.as if a glutton's tray Were something very glorious to behold. much moreThan those who were not paid for independence. lords. For all of us have either heard or readOff. Whose hounds ne'er err'd.their places. guests hot. seen Earliest to rise. And thought.

I sate next that o'erwhelming son of heaven.' A difference between crockery ware and plate. And not a joke he cut but earn'd its praise. I knew him in his livelier London days. upon grass. And only think. or feel. Peter Pith. although A slight repast makes people love much more. Dully past o'er the dinner of the day. Or to coarse efforts very loud and long. alas! Some exiles from the town. His jokes were sermons. And Juan took his place. Until preferment. and makers of good matches. There is a difference. And rise at nine in lieu of long eleven. coming at a sure rate (O Providence! how wondrous are thy ways! Who would suppose thy gifts sometimes obdurate?). who had been driven To gaze. Bacchus and Ceres being. 'between A beggar and a queen. There were some country wags too. No longer ready ears and short-hand pens Imbibed the gay bon-mot. For wit hath no great friend in aguish folks. who doth owe To these the invention of champagne and truffles: Temperance delights her. A fat fen vicarage. or happy hoax: The poor priest was reduced to common sense.' or was (of late The latter worse used of the two we 've seenBut we 'll say nothing of affairs of state). And sitting as if nail'd upon his chair: . But of all nature's discrepancies. says the song. and his sermons jokes. none Upon the whole is greater than the difference Beheld between the country and the town. though but a curate. But 'en avant!' The light loves languish o'er Long banquets and too many guests. instead of pavement. and distrait. And several who sung fewer psalms than catches. to lay the devil who looks o'er Lincoln. or act.Takers of tithes. as we know Even from our grammar upwards. To hammer a horse laugh from the thick throng. he knew not where. and nought to think on. in the confusion. And lo! upon that day it came to pass. with reference To some small plan of interest or ambitionBoth which are limited to no condition. Confused. A brilliant diner out. The very powerful parson. The loudest wit I e'er was deafen'd with. friends of yore With vivifying Venus. Gave him. Of which the latter merits every preference From those who have few resources of their own. But both were thrown away amongst the fens. but long fasting ruffles. A difference ''twixt a bishop and a dean.and. As between English beef and Spartan brothAnd yet great heroes have been bred by both.

And this.as nothing can confound A wise man more than laughter from a dunceInflicted on the dish a deadly wound.as they well might. He seem'd unconscious of all passing there. Especially as he had been renown'd For some vivacity among the fair.how (the question rather odd is) Such bodies could have souls. Who wonder'd at the abstraction of his air. A prologue which but slightly harmonised With the substantial company engross'd By matter. and perceiving smiles around Broadening to grins. as it occurr'd. Since he had gain'd at least her observation. He started. . to be sure.Though knives and forks clank'd round as in a fray. Were angry. exprest a wish (Unheeded twice) to have a fin of fish. And hastily. he colour'd more than once. Now this he really rather took amiss: In those who rarely smile. 'T was a mere quiet smile of contemplation. On which. had not his senses By last night's ghost been driven from their defences. or love. Till some one. and still less witty. The supplicator being an amateur. Indicative of some surprise and pity.quite the contrary. Which was not very wise. They wonder'd how a young man so absurd Lord Henry at his table should endure. and his not knowing how much oats Had fallen last market. that ere he could curb it He had paid his neighbour's prayer with half a turbot. They little knew. Even in the country circle's narrow bound (For little things upon my lord's estate Were good small talk for others still less great)Was. And with such hurry. that he caught Aurora's eye on his. with a groan. who were left with scarce a third. But what confused him more than smile or stare From all the 'squires and 'squiresses around. and in this Smile of Aurora's there was nought to pique Or hope. at the third asking of the bans. That he the night before had seen a ghost. And something like a smile upon her cheek. and so much materialised. Nor seem embarrass'd. with any of the wiles Which some pretend to trace in ladies' smiles. This was no bad mistake. And Juan grew carnation with vexation. That one scarce knew at what to marvel most Of two things. or souls such bodies. But what was bad. she did not blush in turn. or might have sympathised. cost his host three votes. A most important outwork of the cityAs Juan should have known. But others. their smiles bespeak A strong external motive.

And grow quite figurative with their figures.with what? concern? I know not. and dancers. though they prove not two and two to be Five.Her aspect was as usual. And this at present was her kind employment. or similar connection's Safe conduct through the rocks of re-elections. diplomatists. The fair Fitz-Fulke seem'd very much at ease. leaves The debt unsunk. bards. And false. her eye.with that vivacious versatility. A thing of temperament and not of art. Heroes sometimes. still.though true. from its supposed facility. when he cast a glance On Adeline while playing her grand role. Though seeming so. to dispense with Cocker's rigours. yet sinks all it receives. As all must blend whose part it is to aim (Especially as the sixth year is ending) At their lord's. but very few financiers. condescending To the consumers of fish. As deep seas in a sunny atmosphere. And usual. and watching. This makes your actors. but cast not down.sages never. Which she went through as though it were a dance. but her colour ne'er was highThough sometimes faintly flush'd.'t is merely what is call'd mobility.and always clear. But speakers. . Her laughing blue eyes with a glance could seize The ridicules of people in all placesThat honey of your fashionable beesAnd store it up for mischievous enjoyment. Yet grew a little pale. And dignity with courtesy so blending. Judging by what they take. for surely they 're sincerest Who are strongly acted on by what is nearest. Betraying only now and then her soul By a look scarce perceptibly askance (Of weariness or scorn). though seldom. They err.not sternAnd she withdrew. The Sinking Fund's unfathomable sea. Little that 's great. witching. and what they pay. But Adeline was occupied by fame This day. Which many people take for want of heart. The poets of arithmetic are they Who. Most orators. While Adeline dispensed her airs and graces. and romancers. as they might do in a modest way. Though this was most expedient on the whole. Though too well bred to quiz men to their faces. That most unliquidating liquid. son's. and game. fowl. So well she acted all and every part By turns. began to feel Some doubt how much of Adeline was real. Of late years. but much of what is clever. artists.Juan. Though all Exchequer chancellors endeavour. Have plainly made it out that four are three.

The ghost at least had done him this much good.and coffee came. And Juan. in general behind none In gay remark on what he had heard or seen. In making him as silent as a ghost. As music chimes in with a melodrame.it might or might not be so. And families. one Aurora. Delighted with their dinner and their host. The evening also waned.' so wont to damn. But then 't was to the purpose what she spoke: Like Addison's 'faint praise. as days must close. But Juan.'t was the rest that broke Forth into universal epigram. she perhaps mistook Its motive for that charity we owe But seldom pay the absent. which he was glad to see. with her pure and placid mien. But with the Lady Adeline the most. Some praised her beauty. as curtsies country dame. nor would look Farther. too. If in the circumstances which ensued He gain'd esteem where it was worth the most.However. Yet saw this much. And then her dress. By an impartial indemnification For all her past exertion and soft phrases. and ladies rose. And curtsying off. their horrid selves and dresses. Retired: with most unfashionable bows Their docile esquires also did the same. Yes. she said little. Which turn'd upon their late guests' miens and faces.not defend. she was truly worthy her high place! No one could envy her deserved prosperity. 'T is true he saw Aurora look as though She approved his silence. There were but two exceptions to this keen Skirmish of wits o'er the departed. He would not join them in a single sally. How sweet the task to shield an absent friend! I ask but this of mine. even to the last relation. Sate silent now. the day closed.what beautiful simplicity Draperied her form with curious felicity! Meanwhile Sweet Adeline deserved their praises. Their hideous wives. . In a most edifying conversation. And truculent distortion of their tresses. Each carriage was announced. The warmth of her politeness. Observing little in his reverie. Her own but served to set off every joke. Whose traits were radiant with the rays of verity. And certainly Aurora had renew'd In him some feelings he had lately lost. True. his usual spirits gone: In vain he heard the others rail or rally. whose sincerity Was obvious in each feature of her face. to. others her great grace. sitting silent in his nook.

.. Don Juan. Who would not sigh Ai ai Tan Kuuerheian That hath a memory. Again. when the midnight hour of pillows Arrived. which is an undress.the. and a slight clatter. Of which another's bosom is the zone. He sate with feelings awkward to express (By those who have not had such visitations).the monk made his blood curdle. willows Waved o'er his couch. no. Sounding like very supernatural water. Saving his night-gown. Or (as rhymes may be in these days) much more.'t is not. Like showers which on the midnight gusts will pass. The moments when we gather from a glance More joy than from all future pride or praise. Gliding the first time to a rendezvous. The unbounded hope. Are so divine. Which kindle manhood. Which sets the teeth on edge. Still we respect thee.I see. With awful footsteps regular as rhyme. and the world wore The starry darkness round her like a girdle Spangled with gems.' and without vest. feelings which.Ah. but to despond Rather than rest. Expectant of the ghost's fresh operations. 'Alma Venus Genetrix!' And full of sentiments. and heavenly ignorance Of what is call'd the world. but can ne'er entrance The heart in an existence of its own. or that had a heart? Alas! her star must fade like that of Dian: Ray fades on ray.yet 't isYe powers! it is the. no!. perhaps ideal. as years on years depart. fond Of those sweet bitter thoughts which banish sleep. And not in vain he listen'd. In short. Instead of poppies. sublime as billows Heaving between this world and worlds beyond. he hardly could be clothed with less: But apprehensive of his spectral guest.what is 't? The wind? No. Anacreon only had the soul to tie an Unwithering myrtle round the unblunted dart Of Eros: but though thou hast play'd us many tricks. he meditated. Completely 'sans culotte. When deep sleep fell on men. retired to his. Again through shadows of the night sublime. And dreading the chaste echoes of her shoe.Hush! what 's that? I see. and the world's ways. A noise like to wet fingers drawn on glass. Or tiptoe of an amatory Miss. the youngling weep.the. that I must deem them real:The love of higher things and better days.Or harden'd. The night was as before: he was undrest.Pooh! the cat! The devil may take that stealthy pace of his! So like a spiritual pit-a-pat.this time It is the sable friar as before. And make the worldling sneer.

And then to be ashamed of such mistaking. And rather variably for stony death: .Came over Juan's ear. And then his dread grew wrath. Dreadful as Dante's rhima. darkening darkness. or this stanza. advanced. but. So that even those whose faith is the most great In souls immortal.Yes! and his mouth too. For he had two. Yet leave the gate which eloquence slips through As wide as if a long speech were to come. Surprise has this effect. 'Lasciate ogni speranza Voi che entrate!' The hinge seem'd to speak. and his wrath fierce. nor close. stood The sable friar in his solemn hood. Or.for what is substance to a spirit? Or how is 't matter trembles to come near it? The door flew wide.but all words upon such themes are weak: A single shade 's sufficient to entrance Hero. On which the moonbeams fell in silvery showers. nor body. but heated.Eternal powers! It touched no soul. Juan put forth one arm. But still the shade remain'd: the blue eyes glared. Tremendous to a mortal tympanum: His eyes were open. What open'd next?. as no doubt the bravest cowers When he can't tell what 't is that doth appal. and (as was before Stated) his mouth. and to quell his corporal quakingHinting that soul and body on the whole Were odds against a disembodied soul. as fly The sea-gulls. His own internal ghost began to awaken Within him. Like that of hell.not swiftly. but the wall.And then swung back. until He reach'd the ancient wall. menaced. as erst he had been shaken The night before. sober flight. And he arose. Don Juan shook. Nigh and more nigh the awful echoes drew. At whatsoever risk of being defeated: The ghost stopp'd.the shade retreated. which throbb'd. with a steady. How odd. then stood stone still. He shudder'd. Were his eyes open?. his veins no longer cold. shun them tete-a-tete. And in the door-way.to make one dumb. but being sick of shaking.but stood awry. He first inclined to think he had been mistaken.. both tolerably bright. Half letting in long shadows on the light.the door. Follow'd. But Juan. It open'd with a most infernal creak. a single hobgoblin's non-entity Should cause more fear than a whole host's identity. Chequer'd with all the tracery of the hall. alas! For immaterialism 's a serious matter. Which still in Juan's candlesticks burn'd high. eager now the truth to pierce. then retired. Resolved to thrust the mystery carte and tierce.

if ghost it were. Who grow up Children only. A half-starved babe. And they reveal'd. it might be admitted The wealthiest orphans are to be more pitied. Yet. The phantom of her frolic Grace.be 't in heart or intellectWhate'er the cause. thrust His other arm forth. And Juan. Back fell the sable frock and dreary cowl. voluptuous. Transgresses the great bounds of love or awe. Too soon they are Parents to themselves: for what Are Tutors.' as they are styled. a wreck upon Life's ocean. And that in his confusion he had caught Only the wall. Guardians. The next are 'only Children. but still curious. instead of what he sought. with two rows of pearls beneath.Fitz-Fulke! CANTO_THE_SEVENTEENTH CANTO THE SEVENTEENTH. as people on most trials must. The ghost had a remarkably sweet breath. Which beat as if there was a warm heart under.Wonder upon wonder! It press'd upon a hard but glowing bust. That he had made at first a silly blunder. But many a lonely tree the loftier grows Than others crowded in the Forest's maze. that Star-Chamber ward (I 'll take the likeness I can first come at).The next are such as are not doomed to lose Their tender parents in their budding days. Which leaves them orphans of the heart no less. a neck of ivory. .alas! that e'er they should! In full. harsh or mild. THE world is full of orphans: firstly. A red lip. stole Forth into something much like flesh and blood. Gleam'd forth. their parental tenderness. and so forth. But to return unto the stricter ruleAs far as words make rules. The sufferers. I hold it law. A human (what the Italians nickname) 'Mule'! A theme for Pity or some worse emotion. if examined. seem'd a sweet soul As ever lurk'd beneath a holy hood: A dimpled chin.Yet one thing rather good the grave had spared. The ghost. but not o'ergrown bulk. But. are orphans in effect. those Who are so in the strict sense of the phrase. compared With Nature's genial Genitors? so that A child of Chancery. since th' old saw Pronounces that an 'only 's' a spoilt childBut not to go too far. as through the casement's ivy shroud The moon peep'd. A straggling curl show'd he had been fair-hair'd. just escaped from a grey cloud. He found. That where their education. merely. puzzled.our common notion Of orphan paints at once a parish school.

yet somehow 'Idem semper. But now. Changeable too.yet never had a temper. let me state) Has been declared an act of inurbanity Malgre Sir Matthew Hales's great humanity. In Life's small rubs should surely be more pliant. The wind shifts and I fly into a rage.who create Mischief in families. much more.a duckling by Dame Partlett rear'd. There is a common-place book argument. in his life-time. Modest I am. teres. fie on 't! Just as I make my mind up every day. If such doom waits each Intellectual Giant.especially if 't is a daughter. Locke.yet with some slight assurance. oh. though somewhat late Since burning aged women (save a fewNot witches only b__ches. Th' old Hen. or whoseBecause as Ages upon Ages push on. When any dare a new light to present. Great Galileo was debarr'd the Sun. To be a 'totus. he 's right. Found his own legs embargo'd from mere walking: The man was well-nigh dead. Who. it seems.as well I mayWould that I were less bilious. 'If you are right.his notion just: No doubt a consolation to his dust Pythagoras.no matter what. but lightly. he Will have a firm Post Obit on posterity.Is like. as vainly as before. With the sad usage of all sorts of sages. Socrates. And frights. each.but pages Might be fill'd up. and.but. so loudly and so long. How Earth could round the solar orbit run. ere men begun To think his skull had not some need of caulking. We little people in our lesser way. Temperate I am. The wise man 's sure when he no more can share it. was deem'd a Bore! The loftiest minds outrun their tardy ages: This they must bear with and.' . And Witches unto none. Should still be singed. Sage. Which glibly glides from every tongue. And so for one will I. Heedless of pricks because it was obtuse: What was a paradox becomes a truth or A something like it.witness Luther! The Sacraments have been reduced to two. as some know or knew. then everybody 's right'! Was ever everybody yet so quite? Therefore I would solicit free discussion Upon all points.by running headlong to the water. The last is apt the former to accuse Of pillowing its head on a pin-cushion. Because he fix'd it. then everybody 's wrong'! Suppose the converse of this precedent So often urged. 'If you are wrong. to stop his talking.' Stoic. perhaps.

but Juan look'd As if he had combated with more than one.the last but one. with his virgin face. 'T were difficult to say. at length. I leave the thing a problem. Cheerful.has two or three within. The guests dropp'd in. Of which most men partake. with eyes that hardly brook'd The light that through the Gothic window shone: Her Grace. had a sort of air rebukedSeem'd pale and shiver'd. Her Grace.' So that I almost think that the same skin For one without. as if she had kept A vigil. The latest. has cost My trembling Lyre already several strings. in Canto the Sixteenth.but.and breakfast. and mine host. or dreamt rather more than slept. wealth. The company whose birth.for he was of a kindling nationIs more than I shall venture to describe. Left in a tender moonlight situation. sometimes. Our Hero was. tea and toast. THE END . or none.Patient.Ghost. Such as enables Man to show his strength Moral or physical: on this occasion Whether his virtue triumph'd. too. Juan. Assembled with our hostess. Being wan and worn.Unless some Beauty with a kiss should bribe. worth. rather apt to whimper.or.but at times a sort of 'Hercules furens. His vice. Which best it is to encounter. but no one sings.but not enamour'd of endurance. Mild. like all things:The morning came.