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 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
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 Class of 1913 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFKIARS. 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
DON JUAN, 
 
 CANTOS III, IV, AND V. 
 
 • 
 
 " Difficile est proprie communia dicere." 
 
 Hor. Epist. ad Pison. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS. 
 
 1821. 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 http://archive.org/details/donjuancantosiii02byrd 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 Hail, Muse ! et cetera. — We left Juan sleeping, 
 Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast, 
 
 And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weeping, 
 And loved by a young heart, too deeply blest 
 
 To feel the poison through her spirit creeping, 
 Or know who rested there ; a foe to rest 
 
 Had soiTd the current of her sinless years, 
 
 And turri'd her pure heart's purest blood to tears. 
 
 b2 
 
DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 II. 
 
 Oh, Love ! what is it in this world of ours 
 Which makes it fatal to be loved ? Ah why 
 
 With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers, 
 And made thy best interpreter a sigh ? 
 
 As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers, 
 
 And place them on their breast — but place to die — 
 
 Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish 
 
 Are laid within our bosoms but to perish. 
 
 III. 
 
 In her first passion woman loves her lover, 
 In all the others all she loves is love, 
 
 Which grows a habit she can ne'er get over, 
 And fits her loosely — like an easy glove, 
 
 As you may find, whene'er you like to prove her : 
 One man alone at first her heart can move ; 
 
 She then prefers him in the plural number, 
 
 Not finding that the additions much encumber. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 
 
 IV. 
 
 I know not if the fault be men's or theirs ; 
 
 But one thing's pretty sure; a woman planted— 
 (Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers) — 
 
 After a decent time must be gallanted ; 
 Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs 
 
 Is that to which her heart is wholly granted ; 
 Yet there are some, they say, who have had none, 
 But those who have ne'er end with only one. 
 
 V. 
 
 'Tis melancholy, and a fearful sign 
 
 Of human frailty, folly, also crime, 
 That love and marriage rarely can combine, 
 
 Although they both are born in the same clime ; 
 Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine — 
 
 A sad, sour, sober beverage — by time 
 Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour 
 Down to a very homely household savour. 
 
DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 VI. 
 
 There *s something of antipathy, as 'twere, 
 Between their present and their future state ; 
 
 A kind of flattery that 's hardly fair 
 
 Is used until the truth arrives too late — 
 
 Yet what can people do, except despair ? 
 
 The same things change their names at such a rate ; 
 
 For instance — passion in a lover 's glorious, 
 
 But in a husband is pronounced uxorious. 
 
 yn. 
 
 Men grow ashamed of being so very fond ; 
 
 They sometimes also get a little tired 
 But that, of course, is rare), and then despond: 
 
 The same things cannot always be admired, 
 Yet 'tis " so nominated in the bond," 
 
 That both are tied till one shall have expired. 
 Sad thought ! to lose the spouse that was adorning 
 Our days, and put one's servants into mourning. 
 
Canto III DON JUAN. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 There 's doubtless something in domestic doings, 
 Which forms, in fact, true love's antithesis ; 
 
 Romances paint at full length people's wooings, 
 But only give a bust of marriages ; 
 
 For no one cares for matrimonial cooings s 
 There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss : 
 
 Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, 
 
 He would have written sonnets all his life ? 
 
 IX. 
 
 All tragedies are finish'd by a death, 
 
 All comedies are ended by a marriage ; 
 The future states of both are left to faith, 
 
 For authors fear description might disparage 
 The worlds to come of both, or fall beneath, 
 
 And then both worlds would punish their miscarriage ; 
 So leaving each their priest and prayer-book ready, 
 They say no more of Death or of the Lady. 
 
DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 X. 
 
 The only two that in my recollection 
 
 Have sung of heaven and hell, or marriage, are 
 Dante and Milton, and of both the affection 
 
 Was hapless in their nuptials, for some bar 
 Of fault or temper ruin'd the connexion 
 
 (Such things, in fact, it don't ask much to mar) ; 
 But Dante's Beatrice and Milton's Eve 
 Were not drawn from their spouses, you conceive. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Some persons say that Dante meant theology 
 By Beatrice, and not a mistress — I, 
 
 Although my opinion may require apology, 
 Deem this a commentator's phantasy, 
 
 Unless indeed it was from his own knowledge he 
 Decided thus, and showed good reason why ; 
 
 I think that Dante's more abstruse ecstatics 
 
 Meant to personify the mathematics. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Haidee and Juan were not married, but 
 
 The fault was theirs, not mine : it is not fair, 
 
 Chaste reader, then, in any way to put 
 
 The blame on me, unless you wish they were ; 
 
 Then if you'd have them wedded, please to shut 
 The book which treats of this erroneous pair, '-'] 
 
 Before the consequences grow too awful ; 
 
 'Tis dangerous to read of loves unlawful. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Yet they were happy, — happy in the illicit 
 Indulgence of their innocent desires ; 
 
 But more imprudent grown with every visit 5 
 Haidee forgot the island was her sire's ; 
 
 When we have what we like, 'tis hard to miss it, 
 At least in the beginning, ere one tires ; 
 
 Thus she came often, not a moment losing, 
 
 Whilst her piratical papa was cruising. 
 
10 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange, 
 Although he fleeced the flags of every nation, 
 
 For into a prime minister but change 
 His title, and 'tis nothing but taxation ; 
 
 But he, more modest, took an humbler range 
 Of life, and in an honester vocation 
 
 Pursued o'er the high seas his watery journey, 
 
 And merely practised as a sea-attorney. 
 
 XV. 
 
 The good old gentleman had been detain'd 
 
 By winds and waves, and some important captures ; 
 
 And, in the hope of more, at sea remain'd, 
 
 Although a squall or two had damp'd his raptures, 
 
 By swamping one of the prizes ; he had chain'd 
 His prisoners, dividing them like chapters 
 
 In number'd lots ; they all had cuffs and collars, 
 
 And averaged each from ten to a hundred dollars. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 11 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Some he disposed of oft' Cape Matapan, 
 
 Among his friends the Mainots ; some he sold 
 
 To his Tunis correspondents, save one man 
 Tossed overboard unsaleable (being old) ; 
 
 The rest — save here and there some richer one, 
 Reserved for future ransom in the hold, 
 
 Were link'd alike, as for the common people he 
 
 Had a large order from the Dey of Tripoli. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The merchandise was served in the same way, 
 Pieced out for different marts in the Levant, 
 
 Except some certain portions of the prey, 
 Light classic articles of female want, 
 
 French stuffs, lace, tweezers, toothpicks, teapot tray, 
 Guitars and castanets from Alicant, 
 
 All which selected from the spoil he gathers, 
 
 Robbed for his daughter by the best of fathers. 
 
12 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A monkey, a Dutch mastiff, a mackaw, 
 
 Two parrots, with a Persian cat and kittens, 
 
 He chose from several animals he saw — 
 
 A terrier, too, which once had been a Briton's, 
 
 Who dying on the coast of Ithaca, 
 
 The peasants gave the poor dumb thing a pittance ; 
 
 These to secure in this strong blowing weather, 
 
 He caged in one huge hamper altogether. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Then having settled his marine affairs, 
 Despatching single cruisers here and there, 
 
 His vessel having need of some repairs, 
 
 He shaped his course to where his daughter fair 
 
 Continued still her hospitable cares ; 
 
 But that part of the coast being shoal and bare, 
 
 And rough with reefs which ran out many a mile, 
 
 His port lay on the other side o' the isle. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 13 
 
 XX. 
 
 And there he went ashore without delay, 
 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, 
 With orders to the people to careen ; 
 
 So that all hands were busy beyond measure, 
 
 In getting out goods, ballast, guns, and treasure 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Arriving at the summit of a hill 
 
 Which overlook'd the white walls of his home, 
 He stopp'd. — What singular emotions fill 
 
 Their bosoms who have been induced to roam ! 
 With fluttering doubts if all be well or ill — 
 
 With love for many, and with fears for some ; 
 All feelings which o'erleap the years long lost, 
 And bring our hearts back to their starting-post. 
 
14 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The approach of home to husbands and to sires, 
 After long travelling by land or water, 
 
 Most naturally some small doubt inspires — 
 A female family 's a serious matter ; 
 
 (None trusts the sex more, or so much admires — 
 But they hate flattery, so I never flatter ;) 
 
 Wives in their husbands' absences grow subtler, 
 
 And daughters sometimes run off with the butler. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 An honest gentleman at his return 
 
 May not have the good fortune of Ulysses ; 
 
 Not all lone matrons for their husbands mourn, 
 Or show the same dislike to suitors' kisses ; 
 
 The odds are that he finds a handsome urn 
 To his memory, and two or three young misses 
 
 Born to some friend, who holds his wife and riches, 
 
 And that his Argus bites him by — the breeches. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 15 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 If single, probably his plighted fair 
 
 Has in his absence wedded some rich miser ; 
 
 But all the better, for the happy pair 
 
 May quarrel, and the lady growing wiser, 
 
 He may resume his amatory care 
 As cavalier servente, or despise her ; 
 
 And that his sorrow may not be a dumb one, 
 
 Write odes on the Inconstancy of Woman. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 And oh ! ye gentlemen who have already 
 Some chaste liaison of the kind — I mean 
 
 An honest friendship with a married lady — 
 The only thing of this sort ever seen 
 
 To last — of all connexions the most steady, 
 
 And the true Hymen, (the first 's but a screen) - 
 
 Yet for all that keep not too long away, 
 
 I 've known the absent wrong'd four times a-day. 
 
16 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Lambro, our sea- solicitor, who had 
 
 Much less experience of dry land than ocean, 
 
 On seeing his own chimney-smoke, felt glad ; 
 But not knowing metaphysics, had no notion 
 
 Of the true reason of his not being sad, 
 Or that of any other strong emotion ; 
 
 He loved his child, and would have wept the loss of her, 
 
 But knew the cause no more than a philosopher, 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 He saw his white walls shining in the sun, 
 His garden trees all shadowy and green ; 
 
 He heard his rivulet's light bubbling run, 
 
 The distant dog-bark ; and perceived between 
 
 The umbrage of the wood so cool and dun 
 The moving figures, and the sparkling sheen 
 
 Of arms (in the East all arm) — and various dyes 
 
 Of colour'd garbs, as bright as butterflies. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 17 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 And as the spot where they appear he nears, 
 Surprised at these unwonted signs of idling, 
 
 He hears — alas ! no music of the spheres, 
 
 But an unhallow'd, earthly sound of fiddling ! 
 
 A melody which made him doubt his ears, 
 
 The cause being past his guessing or unriddling ; 
 
 A pipe, too, and a drum, and shortly after, 
 
 A most unoriental roar of laughter. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 And still more nearly to the place advancing, 
 
 Descending rather quickly the declivity, 
 Through the waved branches, o'er the greensward glancing, 
 
 'Midst other indications of festivity, 
 Seeing a troop of his domestics dancing 
 
 Like dervises, who turn as on a pivot, he 
 Perceived it was the Pyrrhic dance so martial, 
 To which the Levantines are very partial. 
 
18 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 And further on a group of Grecian girls, 
 
 The first and tallest her white kerchief waving, 
 
 Were strung together like a row of pearls ; 
 
 Link'd hand in hand, and dancing ; each too having 
 
 Down her white neck long floating auburn curls — 
 (The least of which would set ten poets raving) ; 
 
 Their leader sang — and bounded to her song, 
 
 With choral step and voice, the virgin throng. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 And here, assembled cross-legg'd round their trays, 
 
 Small social parties just begun to dine; 
 Pilaus and meats of all sorts met the gaze, 
 
 And flasks of Samian and of Chian wine, 
 And sherbet cooling in the porous vase ; 
 
 Above them their dessert grew on its vine, 
 The orange and pomegranate nodding o'er, 
 Dropp'd in their laps, scarce pluck'd, their mellow store. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 19 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 A band of children, round a snow-white ram, 
 There wreathe his venerable horns with flowers ; 
 
 While peaceful as if still an unwean'd lamb, 
 The patriarch of the flock all gently cowers 
 
 His sober head, majestically tame, 
 
 Or eats from out the palm, or playful lowers 
 
 His brow, as if in act to butt, and then 
 
 Yielding to their small hands, draws back again. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Their classical profiles, and glittering dresses, 
 Their large black eyes, and soft seraphic cheeks, 
 
 Crimson as cleft pomegranates, their long tresses, 
 The gesture which enchants, the eye that speaks, 
 
 The innocence which happy childhood blesses, 
 Made quite a picture of these little Greeks ; 
 
 So that the philosophical beholder 
 
 Sigh'd for their sakes— that they should e'er grow older. 
 
 c2 
 
DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Afar, a dwarf buffoon stood telling tales 
 To a sedate grey circle of old smokers 
 
 Of secret treasures found in hidden vales, 
 Of wonderful replies from Arab jokers, 
 
 Of charms to make good gold, and cure bad ails, 
 Of rocks bewitch'd that open to the knockers, 
 
 Of magic ladies who, by one sole act, 
 
 Transfer m'd their lords to beasts, (but that 's a fact). 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Here was no lack of innocent diversion 
 
 For the imagination or the senses, 
 Song, dance, wine, music, stories from the Persian, 
 1 All pretty pastimes in which no offence is; 
 But Lambro saw all these things with aversion, 
 
 Perceiving in his absence such expenses, 
 Dreading that climax of all human ills, 
 The inflammation of his weekly bills. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 21 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Ah ! what is man ? what perils still environ 
 The happiest mortals even after dinner — 
 
 A day of gold from out an age of iron 
 Is all that life allows the luckiest sinner ; 
 
 Pleasure (whene'er she sings, at least) 's a siren, 
 That lures to flay alive the young beginner ; 
 
 Lambro's reception at his people's banquet 
 
 Was such as fire accords to wet a blanket. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 He — being a man who seldom used a word 
 Too much, and wishing gladly to surprise 
 
 (In general he surprised men with the sword) 
 His daughter — had not sent before to advise 
 
 Of his arrival, so that no one stirred ; 
 
 And long he paused to re-assure his eyes, 
 
 In fact much more astonish'd than delighted, 
 
 To find so much good company invited. 
 
22 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 He did not know (Alas ! how men will lie) 
 That a report (especially the Greeks) 
 
 Avouch'd his death (such people never die), 
 And put his house in mourning several weeks, 
 
 But now their eyes and also lips were dry ; 
 
 The bloom too had return 'd to Haidee's cheeks. 
 
 Her tears too being return'd into their fount, 
 
 She now kept house upon her own account. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Hence all this rice, meat, dancing, wine, and fiddling, 
 Which turn'd the isle into a place of pleasure ; 
 
 The servants all were getting drunk or idling, 
 A life which made them happy beyond measure. 
 
 Her father's hospitality seem'd middling, 
 
 Compared with what Haidee did with his treasure ; 
 
 'Twas wonderful how things went on improving, 
 
 While she had not one hour to spare from loving. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Perhaps you think in stumbling on this feast 
 He flew into a passion, and in fact 
 
 There was no mighty reason to be pleased ; 
 Perhaps you prophesy some sudden act, 
 
 The whip, the rack, or dungeon at the least, 
 To teach his people to be more exact, 
 
 And that, proceeding at a very high rate, 
 
 He show'd the royal penchants of a pirate. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 You 're wrong. — He was the mildest manner'd man 
 That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat ; 
 
 With such true breeding of a gentleman, 
 You never could divine his real thought ; 
 
 No courtier could, and scarcely woman can 
 Gird more deceit within a petticoat ; 
 
 Pity he loved adventurous life's variety, 
 
 He was so great a loss to good society. 
 
24 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Advancing to the nearest dinner tray, 
 
 Tapping the shoulder of the nighest guest, 
 
 With a peculiar smile, which, by the way, 
 Boded no good, whatever it express'd, 
 
 He asked the meaning of this holiday ; 
 
 The vinous Greek to whom he had address'd 
 
 His question, much too merry to divine 
 
 The questioner, fill'd up a glass of wine, 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 And without turning his facetious head, 
 Over his shoulder, with a Bacchant air, 
 
 Presented the o'erflowing cup, and said, 
 
 '* Talking's dry work, I have no time to spare." 
 
 A second hiccup'd, " Our old master's dead, 
 
 " You'd better ask our mistress who's his heir." 
 
 " Our mistress !" quoth a third : " Our mistress ! — pooh !- 
 
 " You mean our master — not the old but new. 11 
 
Canto ilf. DON JUAN. 25 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 These rascals, being new comers, knew not whom 
 They thus address'd — and Lambro's visage fell- 
 
 And o'er his eye a momentary gloom 
 
 Pass'd, but he strove quite courteously to quell 
 
 The expression, and endeavouring to resume 
 His smile, requested one of them to tell 
 
 The name and quality of his new patron, 
 
 Who seem'd to have turn'd Haidee into a matron. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 " I know not," quoth the fellow, " who or what 
 " He is, nor whence he came — and little care ; 
 
 "But this I know, that this roast capon's fat, 
 
 " And that good wine ne'er wash'd down better fare ; 
 
 " And if you are not satisfied with that, 
 
 " Direct your questions to my neighbour there ; 
 
 " He'll answer all for better or for worse, 
 
 " For none likes more to hear himself converse." * 
 
26 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XLVL 
 
 I said that Larabro was a man of patience, 
 And certainly he show'd the best of breeding, 
 
 Which scarce even France, the paragon of nations, 
 E'er saw her most polite of sons exceeding ; 
 
 He bore these sneers against his near relations, 
 His own anxiety, his heart too bleeding, 
 
 The insults too of every servile glutton, 
 
 Who all the time were eating up his mutton. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Now in a person used to much command — 
 
 To bid men come, and go, and come again — 
 To see his orders done too out of hand — 
 
 Whether the word was death, or but the chain- 
 It may seem strange to find his manners bland ; 
 Yet such things are, which I can not explain, 
 Though doubtless he who can command himself 
 Is good to govern — almost as a Guelf 
 
Canto HI. DON JUAN. 27 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Not that he was not sometimes rash or so, 
 But never in his real and serious mood ; 
 
 Then calm, concentrated, and still, and slow, 
 He lay coiled like the boa in the wood ; 
 
 With him it never was a word and blow, 
 His angry word once o'er, he shed no blood, 
 
 But in his silence there was much to rue, 
 
 And his one blow left little work for two. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 He ask'd no further questions, and proceeded 
 On to the house, but by a private way, 
 
 So that the few who met him hardly heeded, 
 So little they expected him that day ; 
 
 If love paternal in his bosom pleaded 
 
 For Haidee's sake, is more than I can say, 
 
 But certainly to one deem'd dead returning. 
 
 This revel seem'd a curious mode of mourning. 
 
28 DON JUAN. Canto HI. 
 
 L. 
 
 If all the dead could now return to life, 
 
 (Which God forbid !) or some, or a great many, 
 
 For instance, if a husband or his wife 
 (Nuptial examples are as good as any), 
 
 No doubt whate'er might be their former strife, 
 The present weather would be much more rainy — 
 
 Tears shed into the grave of the connexion 
 
 Would share most probably its resurrection. 
 
 LI. 
 
 He enter'd in the house no more his home, 
 A thing to human feelings the most trying, 
 
 And harder for the heart to overcome, 
 
 Perhaps, than even the mental pangs of dying ; 
 
 To find our hearthstone turn'd into a tomb, 
 And round its once warm precincts palely lying 
 
 The ashes of our hopes, is a deep grief, 
 
 Beyond a single gentleman's belief. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 29 
 
 LII. 
 
 He enter'd in the house — his home no more, 
 For without hearts there is no home ; — and felt 
 
 The solitude of passing his own door 
 
 Without *a welcome ; there he long had dwelt, 
 
 There his few peaceful days Time had swept o'er, 
 There his worn bosom and keen eye would melt 
 
 Over the innocence of that sweet child, 
 
 His only shrine of feelings undefiled. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 He was a man of a strange temperament, 
 Of mild demeanour though of savage mood, 
 
 Moderate in all his habits, and content 
 With temperance in pleasure, as in food, 
 
 Quick to perceive, and strong to bear, and meant 
 For something better, if not wholly good ; 
 
 His country's wrongs and his despair to save her 
 
 Had stung him from a slave to an enslaver. 
 
DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 The love of power, and rapid gain of gold, 
 The hardness by long habitude produced, 
 
 The dangerous life in which he had grown old, 
 The mercy he had granted oft abused, 
 
 The sights he was accustom'd to behold, 
 
 The wild seas, and wild men with whom he cruised, 
 
 Had cost his enemies a long repentance, 
 
 And made him a good friend, but bad acquaintance. 
 
 LV. 
 
 But something of the spirit of old Greece 
 Flash'd o'er his soul a few heroic rays, 
 
 Such as lit onward to the Golden Fleece 
 His predecessors in the Colchian days ;" 
 
 'Tis true he had no ardent love for peace — 
 Alas ! his country show'd no path to praise 
 
 Hate to the world and war with every nation 
 
 He waged, in vengeance of her degradation. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 31 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Still o'er his mind the influence of the clime 
 Shed its Ionian elegance, which show'd 
 
 Its power unconsciously full many a time, — 
 A taste seen in the choice of his abode, 
 
 A love of music and of scenes sublime, 
 
 A pleasure in the gentle stream that flow'd 
 
 Past him in crystal, and a joy in flowers, 
 
 Bedew'd his spirit in his calmer hours. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 But whatsoe'er he had of love reposed 
 On that beloved daughter ; she had been 
 
 The only thing which kept his heart unclosed 
 Amidst the savage deeds he had done and seen ; 
 
 A lonely pure affection unopposed : 
 
 There wanted but the loss of this to wean 
 
 His feelings from all milk of human kindness, 
 
 And turn him like the Cyclops mad with blindness. 
 
32 DON JUAN. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Canto III. 
 
 The cubless tigress in her jungle raging . 
 
 Is dreadful to the shepherd and the flock ; 
 The ocean when its yeasty war is waging 
 
 Is awful to the vessel near the rock ; 
 But violent things will sooner bear assuaging, 
 
 Their fury being spent by its own shock, 
 Than the stern, single, deep, and wordless ire 
 Of a strong human heart, and in a sire. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 It is a hard although a common case 
 
 To find our children running restive — they 
 
 In whom our brightest days we would retrace, 
 Our little selves re-form'd in finer clay, 
 
 Just as old age is creeping on apace, 
 
 And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, 
 
 They kindly leave us, though not quite alone, 
 
 But in good company — the gout and stone. 
 
*% 
 
 Canto III. DON JUAN. 33 
 
 LX. 
 
 Yet a fine family is a fine thing 
 
 (Provided they don't come in after dinner) ; 
 "Tis beautiful to see a matron bring 
 
 Her children up (if nursing them don't thin her) 
 Like cherubs round an altar-piece they cling 
 
 To the fire-side (a sight to touch a sinner). 
 A lady with her daughters or her nieces 
 Shine like a guinea and seven shilling pieces. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Old Lambro pass'd unseen a private gate, 
 And stood within his hall at eventide ; 
 
 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 fair slaves on every side ; 
 
 Gems, gold, and silver, form'd the service mostly, 
 
 Mother of pearl and coral the less costly. 
 
DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 The dinner made about a hundred dishes ; 
 
 Lamb and pistachio nuts— in short, all meats, 
 And saffron soups, and sweetbreads ; and the fishes 
 
 Were of the finest that e'er flounced in nets, 
 Drest to a Sybarite's most pamper'd wishes ; 
 
 The beverage was various sherbets 
 Of raisin, orange, and pomegranate juice, 
 Squeezed through the rind, which makes it best for use. 
 
 LXI1I. 
 
 These were ranged round, each in its crystal ewer, 
 And fruits, and date-bread loaves closed the repast, 
 
 And Mocha's berry, from Arabia pure, 
 In small fine China cups, came in at last ; 
 
 Gold cups of filigree made to secure 
 
 The hand from burning underneath them placed, 
 
 Cloves, cinnamon, and saffron too were boil'd 
 
 Up with the coffee, which CI think) they spoiFd. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 35 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 The hangings of the room were tapestry, made 
 Of velvet pannels, each of different hue, 
 
 And thick with damask flowers of silk inlaid ; 
 And round them ran a yellow border too ; 
 
 The upper border, richly wrought, display'd, 
 Embroider'd delicately o'er with blue, 
 
 Soft Persian sentences, in lilac letters, 
 
 From poets, or the moralists their betters. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 These oriental writings on the wall, 
 
 Quite common in those countries, are a kind 
 
 Of monitors adapted to recall, 
 
 Like skulls at Memphian banquets, to the mind 
 
 The words which shook Belshazzar in his hall, 
 And took his kingdom from him : You will find, 
 
 Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure, 
 
 There is no sterner moralist than pleasure. 
 
 d2 
 
36 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 A beauty at the season's close grown hectic, 
 A genius who has drunk himself to death, 
 
 A rake turn'd methodistic or eclectic — 
 
 (For that's the name they like to pray beneath)- 
 
 But most, an alderman struck apoplectic, 
 Are things that really take away the breath, 
 
 And show that late hours, wine, and love are able 
 
 To do not much less damage than the table. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Haidee and Juan carpeted their feet 
 
 On crimson satin, border'd with pale blue ; 
 
 Their sofa occupied three parts complete 
 Of the apartment — and appear 'd quite new ; 
 
 The velvet cushions — (for a throne more meet) — 
 Were scarlet, from whose glowing centre grew 
 
 A sun emboss'd in gold, whose rays of tissue, 
 
 Meridian-like, were seen all light to issue. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 87 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Crystal and marble, plate and porcelain, 
 
 Had done their work of splendour ; Indian mats 
 
 And Persian carpets, which the heart bled to stain, 
 Over the floors were spread ; gazelles and cats, 
 
 And dwarfs and blacks, and such like things, that gain 
 -Their bread as ministers and favourites — (that 's 
 
 To say, by degradation) — mingled there 
 
 As plentiful as in a court or fair. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 There were no want of lofty mirrors, and 
 
 The tables, most of ebony inlaid 
 With mother of pearl or ivory, stood at hand, 
 
 Or were of tortoise-shell or rare woods made, 
 Fretted with gold or silver : — by command 
 
 The greater part of these were ready spread 
 With viands and sherbets in ice — and wine — 
 Kept for all comers, at all hours to dine. 
 
DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Of all the dresses I select Haidee's : 
 
 She wore two j elicits — one was of pale yellow ; 
 Of azure, pink, and white was her chemise- — 
 
 'Neath which her breast heaved like a little billow ; 
 With buttons form'd of pearls as large as pease, 
 
 All gold and crimson shone her jelick's fellow, 
 And the striped white gauze baracan that bound her, 
 Like fleecy clouds about the moon, flow'd round her. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 One large gold bracelet clasp'd each lovely arm, 
 Lockless — so pliable from the pure gold 
 
 That the hand stretch 'd and shut it without harm, 
 The limb which it adorn'd its only mould ; 
 
 So beautiful — its very shape would charm, 
 And clinging as if loth to lose its hold, 
 
 The purest ore inclosed the whitest skin 
 
 That e'er by precious metal was held in. ( 2 ) 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 39 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 Around, as princess of her father's land, 
 A like gold bar above her instep rolled (3) 
 
 Announced her rank ; twelve rings were on her hand ; 
 Her hair was starr'd with gems ; her veil's fine fold 
 
 Below her breast was fasten'd with a band 
 
 Of lavish pearls, whose worth could scarce be told ; 
 
 Her orange silk full Turkish trowsers furl'd 
 
 About the prettiest ancle in the world. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Her hair's long auburn waves down to her heel 
 Flow'd like an Alpine torrent which the sun 
 
 Dyes with his morning light, — and would conceal 
 Her person ( 4 ) if allow'd at large to run, 
 
 And still they seem resentfully to feel 
 
 The silken fillet's curb, and sought to shun 
 
 Their bonds whene'er some Zephyr caught began 
 
 To offer his young pinion as her fan. 
 
40 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Round her she made an atmosphere of life, 
 The very air seen^d lighter from her eyes, 
 
 They were so soft and beautiful, and rife 
 With all we can imagine of the skies, 
 
 And pure as Psyche ere she grew a wife — 
 Too pure even for the purest human ties ; 
 
 Her overpowering presence made you feel 
 
 It would not be idolatry to kneel. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Her eyelashes, though dark as night, were tinged 
 (It is the country's custom), but in vain ; 
 
 For those large black eyes were so blackly fringed, 
 The glossy rebels mock'd the jetty stain, 
 
 And in their native beauty stood avenged : 
 
 Her nails were touclVd with henna ; but again 
 
 The power of art was turn'd to nothing, for 
 
 They could not look more rosy than before. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 41 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 The henna should be deeply died to make 
 The skin relieved appear more fairly fair ; 
 
 She had no need of this, day ne'er will break 
 
 On mountain tops more heavenly white than her : 
 
 The eye might doubt if it were well awake, 
 She was so like a vision ; I might err, 
 
 But Shakspeare also says 'tis very silly 
 
 " To gild refined gold, or paint the lily." 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Juan had on a shawl of black and gold, 
 But a white baracan, and so transparent 
 
 The sparkling gems beneath you might behold, 
 Like small stars through the milky way apparent ; 
 
 His turban, furFd in many a graceful fold, 
 An emerald aigrette with Haidee's hair in't 
 
 Surmounted as its clasp — a glowing crescent, 
 
 Whose rays shone ever trembling, but incessant. 
 
42 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 And now they were diverted by their suite, 
 
 Dwarfs, dancing girls, black eunuchs, and a poet, 
 
 Which made their new establishment complete ; 
 The last was of great fame, and liked to show it : 
 
 His verses rarely wanted their due feet — 
 And for his theme — he seldom sung below it, 
 
 He being paid to satirise or flatter, 
 
 As the psalm says, " inditing a good matter." 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 He praised the present, and abused the past, 
 Reversing the good custom of old days, 
 
 An eastern antijacobin at last 
 
 He turn'd, preferring pudding to no praise — 
 
 For some few years his lot had been o'ercast 
 By his seeming independent in his lays, 
 
 But now he sung the Sultan and the Pacha 
 
 With truth like Southey and with verse like Crashaw. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 43 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 He was a man who had seen many changes, 
 And always changed as true as any needle, 
 
 His polar star being one which rather ranges, 
 And not the fiVd — he knew the way to wheedle : 
 
 So vile he 'scaped the doom which oft avenges ; 
 And being fluent (save indeed when fee'd ill), 
 
 He lied with such a fervour of intention — 
 
 There was no doubt he earn'd his laureate pension. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 But he had genius, — when a turncoat has it 
 
 The " Vates irritabilis " takes care 
 That without notice few full moons shall pass it ; 
 
 Even good men like to make the public stare : — 
 But to my subject — let me see — what was it ? — 
 
 Oh ! — the third canto — and the pretty pair — 
 Their loves, and feasts, and house, and dress, and mode 
 Of living in their insular abode. 
 
44 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 Their poet, a sad trimmer, but no less 
 
 In company a very pleasant fellow, 
 Had been the favourite of full many a mess 
 
 Of men, and made them speeches when half mellow ; 
 And though his meaning they could rarely guess, 
 
 Yet still they deign'd to hiccup or to bellow 
 The glorious meed of popular applause, 
 Of which the first ne'er knows the second cause. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 But now being lifted into high society, 
 
 And having pick'd up several odds and ends 
 
 Of free thoughts in his travels, for variety, 
 
 He deem'd, being in a lone isle, among friends, 
 
 That without any danger of a riot, he 
 
 Might for long lying make himself amends ; 
 
 And singing as he sung in his warm youth, 
 
 Agree to a short armistice with truth. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 45 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 He had travell'd 'mongst the Arabs, Turks, and Franks, 
 And knew the self-loves of the different nations ; 
 
 And having lived with people of all ranks, 
 Had something ready upon most occasions — 
 
 Which got him a few presents and some thanks. 
 He varied with some skill his adulations ; 
 
 To "do at Rome as Romans do, " a piece 
 
 Of conduct was which he observed in Greece. 
 
 ■ 
 LXXXV. 
 
 Thus, usually, when he was ask'd to sing, 
 
 He gave the different nations something national ; 
 
 'Twas all the same to him — " God save the king," 
 Or " Ca ira, " according to the fashion all ; 
 
 His muse made increment of any thing, 
 From the high lyrical to the low rational : 
 
 If Pindar sang horse-races, what should hinder 
 
 Himself from being as pliable as Pindar ? 
 
46 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 In France, for instance, he would write a chanson ; 
 
 In England, a six canto quarto tale ; 
 In Spain, he'd make a ballad or romance on 
 
 The last war — much the same in Portugal ; 
 In Germany, the Pegasus he'd prance on 
 
 Would be old Goethe's — (see what says de Stael) 
 In Italy, he'd ape the " Trecentisti ;" 
 In Greece, he'd sing some sort of hymn like this t'ye 
 
 The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! 
 
 Where burning Sappho loved and sung, 
 Where grew the arts of war and peace, — 
 
 Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! 
 Eternal summer gilds them yet, 
 But all, except their sun, is set. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 47 
 
 The Scian and the Teian muse, 
 The hero's harp, the lover's lute, 
 
 Have found the fame your shores refuse ; 
 Their place of birth alone is mute 
 
 To sounds which echo further west 
 
 Than your sires' " Islands of the Blest." 
 
 The mountains look on Marathon — 
 And Marathon looks on the sea ; 
 
 And musing there an hour alone, 
 
 I dream'd that Greece might still be free ; 
 
 For standing on the Persian's grave, 
 
 I could not deem myself a slave. 
 
 A king sate on the rocky brow 
 
 Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis ; 
 
 And ships, by thousands, lay below, 
 And men in nations ; — all were his .' 
 
 He counted them at break of day — 
 
 And when the sun set where were they ? 
 
48 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 And where are they ? and where art thou, 
 My country ? On thy voiceless shore 
 
 The heroic lay is tuneless now — 
 The heroic bosom beats no more ! 
 
 And must thy lyre, so long divine, 
 
 Degenerate into hands like mine ? 
 
 'Tis something, in the dearth of fame, 
 Though link'd among a fetter 'd race, 
 
 To feel at least a patriot's shame, 
 Even as I sing, suffuse my face ; 
 
 For what is left the poet here ? 
 
 For Greeks a blush — for Greece a tear. 
 
 Must we but weep o'er days more blest ? 
 
 Must we but blush ? — Our fathers bled. 
 Earth ! render back from out thy breast 
 
 A remnant of our Spartan dead ! 
 Of the three hundred grant but three, 
 To make a new Thermopylae ! 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 49 
 
 What, silent still ? and silent all ? 
 
 Ah ! no ; — the voices of the dead 
 Sound like a distant torrent's fall, 
 
 And answer, " Let one living head, 
 But one arise, — we come, we come ! " 
 'Tis but the living who are dumb. 
 
 In vain — in vain : strike other chords ; 
 
 Fill high the cup with Samian wine ! 
 Leave battles to the Turkish hordes, 
 
 And shed the blood of Scio's vine ! 
 Hark ! rising to the ignoble Call — 
 How answers each bold bacchanal ! 
 
 You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, 
 Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone ? 
 
 Of two such lessons, why forget 
 The nobler and the manlier one ? 
 
 You have the letters Cadmus gave — 
 
 Think ye he meant them for a slave ? 
 
50 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! 
 
 We will not think of themes like these ! 
 It made Anacreon's song divine : 
 
 He served — but served Polycrates — 
 A tyrant ; but our masters then 
 Were still, at least, our countrymen. 
 
 The tyrant of the Chersonese 
 
 Was freedom's best and bravest friend ; 
 That tyrant was Miltiades ! 
 
 Oh ! that the present hour would lend 
 Another despot of the kind ! 
 Such chains as his were sure to bind. 
 
 Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! 
 
 On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore, 
 Exists the remnant of a line 
 
 Such as the Doric mothers bore ; 
 And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, 
 The Heracleidan blood might own. 
 
Canto IN. DON JUAN. 51 
 
 Trust not for freedom to the Franks— 
 They have a king who buys and sells ; 
 
 In native swords, and native ranks, 
 The only hope of courage dwells ; 
 
 But Turkish force, and Latin fraud, 
 
 Would break your shield, however broad. 
 
 Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! 
 
 Our virgins dance beneath the shade — 
 I see their glorious black eyes shine ; 
 
 But gazing on each glowing maid, 
 My own the burning tear-drop laves, 
 
 To think such breasts must suckle slaves. 
 
 Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, 
 
 Where nothing, save the waves and I, 
 May hear our mutual murmurs sweep ; 
 
 There, swan-like, let me sing and die : 
 A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine- 
 Dash down yon cup of Samian wine ! 
 
 e2 
 
DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 Thus sung, or would, or could, or should have sung, 
 The modern Greek, in tolerable verse ; 
 
 If not like Orpheus quite, when Greece was young, 
 Yet in these times he might have done much worse : 
 
 His strain display 'd some feeling — right or wrong; 
 And feeling, in a poet, is the source 
 
 Of others' feeling ; but they are such liars, 
 
 And take all colours — like the hands of dyers. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 But words are things, and a small drop of ink, 
 Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces 
 
 That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think ; 
 'Tis strange, the shortest letter which man uses 
 
 Instead of speech, may form a lasting link 
 Of ages ; to what straits old Time reduces 
 
 Frail man, when paper — even a rag like this, 
 
 Survives himself, his tomb, and all that's his. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 53 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 And when his bones are dust, his grave a blank, 
 His station, generation, even his nation, 
 
 Become a thing, or nothing, save to rank 
 In chronological commemoration, 
 
 Some dull MS. oblivion long has sank, 
 
 Or graven stone found in a barrack's station 
 
 In digging the foundation of a closet, 
 
 May turn his name up, as a rare deposit. 
 
 XC. 
 
 And glory long has made the sages smile ; 
 
 'Tis something, nothing, words, illusion, wind — 
 Depending 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, 
 Until his late Life by Archdeacon Coxe. 
 
54 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 Milton's the prince of poets — so we say ; 
 
 A little heavy, but no less divine : 
 An independent being in his day — 
 
 Learn 'd, pious, temperate in love and wine ; 
 But his life falling into Johnson's way, 
 
 We're told this great high priest of all the Nine 
 Was whipt at college — a harsh sire — odd spouse, 
 For the first Mrs. Milton left his house. 
 
 XCII. 
 
 All these are, certes, entertaining facts, 
 
 Like Shakspeare's stealing deer, Lord Bacon's bribes ; 
 Like Titus' youth, and Caesar's earliest acts ; 
 
 Like Burns (whom Doctor Currie well describes) ; 
 Like Cromwell's pranks ; — but although truth exacts 
 
 These amiable descriptions from the scribes, 
 As most essential to their hero's story, 
 They do not much contribute to his glory. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 55 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 All are not moralists, like Southey, when 
 He prated to the world of (i Pantisocrasy ;" 
 
 Or Wordsworth unexcised, unhired, who then 
 Season'd his pedlar poems with democracy ; 
 
 Or Coleridge, long before his flighty pen 
 Let to the Morning Post its aristocracy ; 
 
 When he and Southey, following the same path, 
 
 Espoused two partners (milliners of Bath.) 
 
 XCIV. , 
 
 Such names at present cut a convict figure, 
 The very Botany Bay in moral geography ; 
 
 Their loyal treason, renegado vigour, 
 
 Are good manure for their more bare biography. 
 
 Wordsworth's last quarto, by the way, is bigger 
 Than any since the birthday of typography ; 
 
 A clumsy frowzy poem, call'd the " Excursion," 
 
 Writ in a manner which is my aversion. 
 
56 DON JUAN. Canto 111. 
 
 xcv. 
 
 He there builds up a formidable dyke 
 Between his own and others' intellect; 
 
 But Wordsworth's poem, and his followers, like 
 Joanna Southcote's Shiloh, and her sect, 
 
 Are things which in this century don't strike 
 The public mind, so few are the elect ; 
 
 And the new births of both their stale virginities 
 
 Have proved but dropsies, taken for divinities. 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 But let me to my story : I must own, 
 If I have any fault, it is digression ; 
 
 Leaving my people to proceed alone, 
 While I soliloquize beyond expression ; 
 
 But these are my addresses from the throne, 
 Which put off business to the ensuing session : 
 
 Forgetting each omission is a loss to 
 
 The world, not quite so great as Ariosto. 
 
Canto ill. DON JUAN. 57 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 I know that what our neighbours call " longueurs" 
 (WeVe not so good a word, but have the thing 
 
 In that complete perfection which ensures 
 An epic from Bob Southey every spring — ) 
 
 Form not the true temptation which allures 
 The reader ; but 'twould not be hard to bring 
 
 Some fine examples of the epopee, 
 
 To prove its grand ingredient is ennui. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 We learn from Horace, Homer sometimes sleeps ; 
 
 We feel without him : Wordsworth sometimes wakes, 
 To show with what complacency he creeps, 
 
 With his dear " Waggoners" around his lakes ; 
 He wishes for " a boat " to sail the deeps — 
 
 Of ocean ? — No, of air ; and then he makes 
 Another outcry for " a little boat, w 
 And drivels seas to set it well afloat. 
 
58 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 If he must fain sweep o'er the etherial plain, 
 And Pegasus runs restive in his " waggon," 
 
 Could he not beg the loan of Charles's Wain ? 
 Or pray Medea for a single dragon ? 
 
 Or if too classic for his vulgar brain, 
 
 He fear'd his neck to venture such a nag on, 
 
 And he must needs mount nearer to the moon, 
 
 Could not the blockhead ask for a balloon ? 
 
 " Pedlars," and " boats," and " waggons !" Oh ! ye 
 shades 
 
 Of Pope and Dry den, are we come to this ? 
 That trash of such sort not alone evades 
 
 Contempt, but from the bathos' vast abyss 
 Floats scumlike uppermost, and these Jack Cades 
 
 Of sense and song above your graves may hiss — 
 The " little boatman " and his " Peter Bell" 
 Can sneer at him who drew " Achitophel !" 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 59 
 
 CI. 
 
 T" our tale. — The feast was over, the slaves gone, 
 The dwarfs and dancing girls had all retired ; 
 
 The Arab lore and poet's song were done, 
 And every sound of revelry expired ; 
 
 The lady and her lover, left alone, 
 
 The rosy flood of twilight's sky admired ; — 
 
 Ave Maria ! o'er the earth and sea, 
 
 That heavenliest hour of Heaven is worthiest thee ! 
 
 CII. 
 
 Ave Maria ! blessed be the hour ! 
 
 The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft 
 Have felt that moment in its fullest power 
 
 Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, 
 While swung the deep bell in the distant tower, 
 
 Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, 
 And not a breath crept through the rosy air, 
 And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer. 
 
60 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 CIII. 
 
 ♦ • 
 
 Ave Maria ! 'tis the hour of prayer ! 
 
 Ave Maria ! 'tis 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 dove- 
 What though 'tis but a pictured image strike — 
 That painting is no idol, 'tis too like. 
 
 CIV. 
 
 Some kinder casuists are pleased to say, 
 
 In nameless print — that I have no devotion ; 
 
 But set those persons down with me to pray, 
 And you shall see who has the properest notion 
 
 Of getting into Heaven the shortest way ; 
 My altars are the mountains and the ocean, 
 
 Earth, air, stars, — all that springs from the great Whole, 
 
 Who hath produced, and will receive the soul. 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 61 
 
 CV. 
 
 Sweet hour of twilight ! — in the solitude 
 Of the pine forest, and the silent shore 
 
 Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood, 
 Rooted where once the Adrian wave flow'd o'er, 
 
 To where the last Cesarean fortress stood, 
 Evergreen forest ! which Boccaccio's lore 
 
 And Dryden's lay made haunted ground to me, 
 
 How have I loved the twilight hour and thee ! 
 
 CVI. 
 
 The shrill cicalas, people of the pine, 
 
 Making their summer lives one ceaseless song, 
 
 Were the sole echos, save my steed's and mine, 
 And vesper bell's that rose the boughs along ; 
 
 The spectre huntsman of Onesti's line, 
 
 His hell-dogs, and their chase, and the fair throng, 
 
 Which learn'd from this example not to fly 
 
 From a true lover, shadow'd my mind's eye. 
 
DON JUAN. * Canto III. 
 
 CVII. 
 
 ( 5 ) Oh Hesperus ! thou bringest all good things — 
 Home to the weary, to the hungry cheer, 
 
 To the young bird the parent's brooding wings, 
 The welcome stall to the o'erlabour'd steer ; 
 
 Whate'er of peace about our hearthstone clings, 
 Whate'er our household gods protect of dear, 
 
 Are gather 'd round us by thy look of rest ; 
 
 Thou bring'st the child, too, to the mother's breast. 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 ( 6 ) Soft hour ! which wakes the wish and melts the heart 
 Of those who sail the seas, on the first day 
 
 When they from their sweet friends are torn apart ; 
 
 Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way 
 As the far bell of vesper makes him start, 
 
 Seeming to weep the dying day's decay ; 
 Is this a fancy which our reason scorns ? 
 Ah ! surely nothing dies but something mourns ! 
 
Canto III. DON JUAN. 63 
 
 CIX. 
 
 When Nero perish'd by the justest doom 
 Which ever the destroyer yet destroy'd, 
 
 Amidst the roar of liberated Rome, 
 
 Of nations freed, and the world overjoy'd, 
 
 Some hands unseen strew'd flowers upon his tomb : C 7 ) 
 Perhaps the weakness of a heart not void 
 
 Of feeling for some kindness done when power 
 
 Had left the wretch an uncorrupted hour. 
 
 CX. 
 
 But I 'm digressing ; what on earth has Nero, 
 
 Or any such like sovereign buffoons, 
 To do with the transactions of my hero, 
 
 More than such madmen's fellow man — the moon's ? 
 Sure my invention must be down at zero, 
 
 And I grown one of many te wooden spoons 1 ' 
 Of verse (the name with which we Cantabs please 
 To dub the last of honours in degrees). 
 
64 DON JUAN. Canto III. 
 
 CXL 
 
 I feel this tediousness will never do — 
 'Tis being too epic, and I must cut down 
 
 (In copying) this long canto into two ; 
 They'll never find it out, unless I own 
 
 The fact, excepting some experienced few ; 
 And then as an improvement 'twill be shown : 
 
 I'll prove that such the opinion of the critic is 
 
 From Aristotle passim. — See TloiYjtDtrjs • 
 
 END OF CANTO III. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO III. 
 
 Note 1, page 25, stanza xlv. 
 
 For none likes more to hear himstlf converse. 
 
 Rispone allor' Margatte, a dir tel tosto, 
 
 Io non credo piu al nero ch' all' azzurro ; 
 Ma nel cappone, o lesso, o vuogli arrosto, 
 
 E credo alcuna volta anco nel burro ; 
 Nella cervigia, e quando io n' ho nel mosto, 
 
 E molto piu nell' espro che il mangurro ; 
 Ma sopra tutto nel buon vino ho fede, 
 E credo che sia salvo chi gli crede. 
 
 Pulci, Morgante Maggiore, Canto 18, Stanza 151. 
 
 Note 2, page 38, stanza lxxi. 
 That e'er by precious metal nnas held in. 
 This dress is Moorish, and the bracelets and bar are worn 
 in the manner described. The reader will perceive here- 
 after, that as the mother of Haidee was of Fez, her daughter 
 wore the garb of the country. 
 
bb NOTES TO CANTO III. 
 
 Note 3, page 39, stanza lxxii. 
 
 A like gold bar above her instep rolled. 
 
 The bar of gold above the instep is a mark of sovereign 
 rank in the women of the families of the deys, and is worn 
 as such by their female relatives. 
 
 Note 4, page 39, stanza lxxiii. 
 
 Her person ifallotod at large to run. 
 
 This is no exaggeration ; there were four women whom I 
 remember to have seen, who possessed their hair in this 
 profusion ; of these, three were English, the other was a 
 Levantine. Their hair was of that length and quantity, that 
 when let down, it almost entirely shaded the person, so as 
 nearly to render dress a superfluity. Of these, only one had 
 dark hair ; the Oriental's had, perhaps, the lightest colour of 
 the four. 
 
 Note 5, page 62, stanza cvii. 
 
 Oh Hesperus ! thou bringest all good things — 
 
 Etntsps iravra (pspsig 
 <&s%ztg oivov <p~ep£ts atya. 
 $£%si$ i/.a,Te^ tfotiSa. 
 
 Fragment of Sappho. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO III. 67 
 
 Note 6, page 62, stanza cviii. 
 
 Soft hour ! which wakes the wish and melts the heart. 
 
 " Era gia I' ora che volge 'I disio, 
 
 " A' naviganti, e 'ntenerisce il cuore ; 
 " Lo di ch' han detto a' dolci amici a dio ; 
 
 " E che lo nuovo peregrin' d' amore 
 " Punge, se ode Squilla di lontano, 
 
 " Che paia '1 giorno pianger che si muore." 
 
 Dante's Purgatory, Canto VIII. 
 This last line is the first of Gray's Elegy, taken by him 
 without acknowledgment. 
 
 Note 7, page 63, stanza cix. 
 
 Some hands unseen strew' djlowers upon his tomb. 
 
 See Suetonius for this fact. 
 
 f2 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 I. 
 
 Nothing so difficult as a beginning 
 
 In poesy, unless perhaps the end ; 
 For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning 
 
 The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend, 
 Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning ; 
 
 Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend, 
 Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far, 
 Till our own weakness shows us what we are. 
 
72 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 II. 
 
 But Time, which brings all beings to their level, 
 And sharp Adversity, will teach at last 
 
 Man, — and, as we would hope, — perhaps the devil, 
 That neither of their intellects are vast : 
 
 While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel, 
 We know not this — the blood flows on too fast ; 
 
 But as the torrent widens towards the ocean, 
 
 We ponder deeply on each past emotion. 
 
 III. 
 
 As boy, I thought myself a clever fellow, 
 
 And wish'd that others held the same opinion ; 
 
 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," and imagination droops her pinion, 
 
 And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk 
 
 Turns what was once romantic to burlesque. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 73 
 
 IV. 
 
 And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 
 
 'Tis that I may not weep ; and if I weep, 
 Tis that our nature cannot always bring 
 Itself to apathy, which we must steep 
 
 First in the icy depths of Lethe's spring 
 Ere what we least wish to behold will sleep 
 
 Thetis baptized her mortal son in Styx ; 
 
 A mortal mother would on Lethe fix. 
 
 V. 
 
 Some have accused me of a strange design 
 Against the creed and morals of the land, 
 
 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 ; 
 But the fact is that I have nothing plann'd, 
 
 Unless it was to be a moment merry, 
 
 A novel word in my vocabulary. 
 
74 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 VI. 
 
 To the kind reader of our sober clime 
 
 This way of writing will appear exotic ; 
 Pulci was sire of the half-serious rhyme, 
 
 Who sang when chivalry was more Quixotic, 
 And reveird in the fancies of the time, 
 
 True knights, chaste dames, huge giants, kings despotic; 
 But all these, save the last, being obsolete, 
 I chose a modern subject as more meet. 
 
 VII. 
 
 How I have treated it, I do not know ; 
 
 Perhaps no better than they have treated me 
 Who have imputed such designs as show 
 
 Not what they saw, but what they wish'd to see ; 
 But if it gives them pleasure, be it so, 
 
 This is a liberal age, and thoughts are free : 
 Meantime Apollo plucks me by the ear, 
 And tells me to resume my story here. 
 
Canto IV. 
 
 DON JUAN. 75 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Young Juan and his lady-love were left 
 To their own hearts' most sweet society ; 
 
 Even Time the pitiless in sorrow cleft 
 
 With his rude scythe such gentle bosoms ; he 
 
 Sigh'd to behold them of their hours bereft 
 
 Though foe to love ; and yet they could not be 
 
 Meant to grow old, but die in happy spring, 
 
 Before one charm or hope had taken wing. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Their faces were not made for wrinkles, their 
 Pure blood to stagnate, their great hearts to fail ; 
 
 The blank grey was not made to blast their hair, 
 But like the climes that know nor snow nor hail 
 
 They were all summer : lightning might assail 
 And shiver them to ashes, but to trail 
 
 A long and snake-like life of dull decay 
 
 Was not for them — they had too little clay. 
 
76 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 X. 
 
 They were alone once more ; for them to be 
 Thus was another Eden ; they were never 
 
 Weary, unless when separate : the tree 
 Cut from its forest root of years— the river 
 
 Damm'd from its fountain — the child from the knee 
 And breast maternal wean'd at once for ever, 
 
 Would wither less than these two torn apart ; 
 
 Alas ! there is no instinct like the heart — 
 
 XI. 
 
 The heart — which may be broken : happy they ! 
 
 Thrice fortunate ! who of that fragile mould, 
 The precious porcelain of human clay, 
 
 Break with the first fall : they can ne'er behold 
 The long year link'd with heavy day on day, 
 
 And all which must be borne, and never told ; 
 While life's strange principle will often lie 
 Deepest in those who long the most to die. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 77 
 
 XII. 
 
 " Whom the gods love die young" was said of yore, (0 
 And many deaths do they escape by this : 
 
 The death of friends, and that which slays even more — 
 The death of friendship, love, youth, all that is, 
 
 Except mere breath ; and since the silent shore 
 Awaits at last even those whom longest miss 
 
 The old archer's shafts, perhaps the early grave 
 
 Which men weep over may be meant to save. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Haidee and Juan thought not of the dead. 
 
 The heavens and earth, and air, seem'd made for them 
 They found no fault with Time, save that he fled ; 
 
 They saw not in themselves aught to condemn : 
 Each was the other's mirror, and but read 
 
 Joy sparkling in their dark eyes like a gem, 
 And knew such brightness was but the reflection 
 Of their exchanging glances of affection. 
 
78 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The gentle pressure, and the thrilling touch, 
 The least glance better understood than words, 
 
 Which still said all, and ne'er could say too much ; 
 A language, too, but like to that of birds, 
 
 Known but to them, at least appearing such 
 As but to lovers a true sense affords ; 
 
 Sweet playful phrases, which would seem absurd 
 
 To those who have ceased to hear such, or ne'er heard 
 
 XV. 
 
 All these were theirs, for they were children still, 
 And children still they should have ever been ; 
 
 They were not made in the real world to fill 
 A busy character in the dull scene, 
 
 But like two beings born from out a rill, 
 A nymph and her beloved, all unseen 
 
 To pass their lives in fountains and on flowers, 
 
 And never know the weight of human hours. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 79 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Moons changing had roll'd on, and changeless found 
 Those their bright rise had lighted to such joys 
 
 As rarely they beheld throughout their round ; 
 And these were not of the vain kind which cloys, 
 
 For theirs were buoyant spirits, never bound 
 By the mere senses ; and that which destroys 
 
 Most love, possession, unto them appear'd 
 
 A thing which each endearment more endear'd. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Oh beautiful ! and rare as beautiful ! 
 
 But theirs was love in which the mind delights 
 To lose itself, when the old world grows dull, 
 
 And we are sick of its hack sounds and sights, 
 Intrigues, adventures of the common school, 
 
 Its petty passions, marriages, and flights, 
 Where Hymen's torch but brands one strumpet more, 
 Whose husband only knows her not a wh — re. 
 
80 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Hard words; harsh truth ; a truth which many know. 
 
 Enough. — The faithful and the fairy pair, 
 Who never found a single hour too slow, 
 
 What was it made them thus exempt from care ? 
 Young innate feelings all have felt below 
 
 Which perish in the rest, but in them were 
 Inherent ; what we mortals call romantic, 
 And always envy, though we deem it frantic. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 This is in others a factitious state, 
 
 An opium dream of too much youth and reading, 
 But was in them their nature, or their fate : 
 
 No novels e'er had set their young hearts bleedings 
 For Haidee's knowledge was by no means great, 
 
 And Juan was a boy of saintly breeding ; 
 So that there was no reason for their loves 
 More than for those of nightingales or doves. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 81 
 
 # 
 
 XX. 
 
 They gazed upon the sunset ; 'tis an hour 
 
 Dear unto all, but dearest to their eyes, 
 For it had made them what they were : the power 
 
 Of love had first o'erwhelm'd them from such skies, 
 When happiness had been their only dower, 
 
 And twilight saw them link'd in passion's ties ; 
 Charm'd with each other, all things charm'd that brought 
 The past still welcome as the present thought. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 I know not why, but in that hour to-night, 
 Even as they gazed, a sudden tremor came, 
 
 And swept, as 'twere, across their heart's delight, 
 Like the wind o'er a harp-string, or a flame, 
 
 When one is shook in sound, and one in sight ; 
 
 And thus some boding flash'd through either frame, 
 
 And called from Juan's breast a faint low sigh, 
 
 While one new tear arose in Haidee's eye. 
 
DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 That large black prophet eye seeni'd to dilate 
 
 And follow far the disappearing sun, 
 As if their last day of a happy date 
 
 With his broad, bright, and dropping orb were gone ; 
 Juan gazed on her as to ask his fate — 
 
 He felt a grief, but knowing cause for none, 
 His glance inquired of hers for some excuse 
 For feelings causeless, or at least abstruse. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 She turn'd to him, and smiled, but in that sort 
 Which makes not others smile ; then turn'd aside r 
 
 Whatever feeling shook her, it seem'd short, 
 And master'd by her wisdom or her pride ; 
 
 When Juan spoke, too— it might be in sport — 
 Of this their mutual feeling, she replied — 
 
 " If it should be so, — but — it cannot be — 
 
 " Or I at least shall not survive to see. w 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 83 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Juan would question further, but she press'd 
 His lip to hers, and silenced him with this, 
 
 And then dismiss 1 d the omen from her breast, 
 Defying augury with that fond kiss ; 
 
 And no doubt of all methods 'tis the best : 
 Some people prefer wine — 'tis not amiss ; 
 
 I have tried both ; so those who would a part take 
 
 May choose between the headache and the heartache. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 One of the two, according to your choice, 
 Woman or wine, you'll have to undergo; 
 
 Both maladies are taxes on our joys : 
 
 But which to choose, I really hardly know ; 
 
 And if I had to give a casting voice, 
 
 For both sides I could many reasons show, 
 
 And then decide, without great wrong to either, 
 
 It were much better to have both than neither. 
 
 g2 
 
84 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Juan and Haidee gazed upon each other 
 
 With swimming looks of speechless tenderness, 
 
 Which mix'd all feelings, friend, child, lover, brother, 
 All that the best can mingle and express 
 
 When two pure hearts are pour'd in one another, 
 And love too much, and yet can not love less ; 
 
 But almost sanctify the sweet excess 
 
 By the immortal wish and power to bless. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Mix'd in each other's arms, and heart in heart, 
 
 Why did they not then die ? — they had lived too long 
 
 Should an hour come to bid them breathe apart ; 
 Years could but bring them cruel things or wrong, 
 
 The world was not for them, nor the world's art 
 For beings passionate as Sappho's song ; 
 
 Love was born with them, in them, so intense, 
 
 It was their very spirit — not a sense. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 85 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 They should have lived together deep in woods, 
 Unseen as sings the nightingale ; they were 
 
 Unfit to mix in these thick solitudes 
 
 Called social, where all vice and hatred are ; 
 
 How lonely every freeborn creature broods ! 
 The sweetest song-birds nestle in a pair ; 
 
 The eagle soars alone ; the gull and crow 
 
 Flock o'er their carrion, just as mortals do. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Now pillow'd cheek to cheek, in loving sleep, 
 
 Haidee and Juan their siesta took, 
 A gentle slumber, but it was not deep, 
 
 For ever and anon a something shook 
 Juan, and shuddering o'er his frame would creep ; 
 
 And Haidee's sweet lips murmur'd like a brook 
 A wordless music, and her face so fair 
 Stirr'd with her dream as rose-leaves with the air ; 
 
86 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Or as the stirring of a deep clear stream 
 Within an Alpine hollow, when the wind 
 
 Walks over it, was she shaken by the dream, 
 The mystical usurper of the mind — 
 
 O'erpowering us to be whate'er may seem 
 
 Good to the soul which we no more can bind ; 
 
 Strange state of being ! (for 'tis still to be) 
 
 Senseless to feel, and with seal'd eyes to see. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 She dream'd of being alone on the sea-shore, 
 Chain'd to a rock ; she knew not how, but stir 
 
 She could not from the spot, and the loud roar 
 
 Grew, and each wave rose roughly, threatening her ; 
 
 And o'er her upper lip they seem'd to pour, 
 
 Until she sobb'd for breath, and soon they were 
 
 Foaming o'er her lone head, so fierce and high 
 
 Each broke to drown her, yet she could not die. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. §7 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Anon — she was released, and then she stray'd 
 O'er the sharp shingles with her bleeding feet, 
 
 And stumbled almost every step she made ; 
 And something roll'd before her in a sheet, 
 
 Which she must still pursue howe'er afraid ; 
 'Twas white and indistinct, nor stopp'd to meet 
 
 Her glance nor grasp, for still she gazed and grasp'd, 
 
 And ran, but it escaped her as she clasp'd. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The dream changed ; in a cave she stood, its walls 
 Were hung with marble icicles ; the work 
 
 Of ages on its water-fretted halls, 
 
 Where waves might wash, and seals mightbreed and lurk ; 
 
 Her hair was dripping, and the very balls 
 
 Of her black eyes seem'd turn'd to tears, and murk 
 
 The sharp rocks look'd below each drop they caught, 
 
 Which froze to marble as it fell, she thought. 
 
88 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And wet, and cold, and lifeless at her feet, 
 
 Pale as the foam that froth 'd on his dead brow, 
 
 Which she essay 'd in vain to clear, (how sweet 
 Were once her cares, how idle seem'd they now !) 
 
 Lay Juan, nor could aught renew the beat 
 Of his quench'd heart ; and the sea dirges low 
 
 Rang in her sad ears like a mermaid's song, 
 
 And that brief dream appear'd a life too long. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 And gazing on the dead, she thought his face 
 
 Faded, or alter'd into something new — 
 Like to her father's features, till each trace 
 
 More like and like to Lambro's aspect grew — 
 With all his keen worn look and Grecian grace ; 
 
 And starting, she awoke, and what to view ? 
 Oh ! Powers of Heaven ! what dark eye meets she there? 
 'Tis — 'tis her fathers — fix'd upon the pair ! 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 89 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Then shrieking, she arose, and shrieking fell, 
 With joy and sorrow, hope and fear, to see 
 
 Him whom she deem'd a habitant where dwell 
 The ocean-buried, risen from death, to be 
 
 Perchance the death of one she loved too well : 
 Dear as her father had been to Haidee, 
 
 It was a moment of that awful kind 
 
 I have seen such — but must not call to mind. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Up Juan sprung to HaideVs bitter shriek, 
 And caught her falling, and from off the wall 
 
 Snatch'd down his sabre, in hot haste to wreak 
 Vengeance on him who was the cause of all : 
 
 Then Lambro, who till now forbore to speak, 
 Smiled scornfully, and said, " Within my call, 
 
 " A thousand scimitars await the word ; 
 
 " Put up, young man, put up your silly sword. 1 ' 
 
90 DON JUAN. Canto IV 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 And Haidee clung around him ; " Juan, 'tis — 
 " 'Tis Lambro — 'tis my father ! Kneel with me- 
 
 " He will forgive us — yes — it must be — yes. 
 " Oh ! dearest father, in this agony 
 
 " Of pleasure and of pain — even while I kiss 
 " Thy garment's hem with transport, can it be 
 
 " That doubt should mingle with my filial joy ? 
 
 " Deal with me as thou wilt, but spare this boy. 1 ' 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 High and inscrutable the old man stood, 
 
 Calm in his voice, and calm within his eye — 
 
 Not always signs with him of calmest mood : 
 He look'd upon her, but gave no reply ; 
 
 Then turn'd to Juan, in whose cheek the blood 
 Oft came and went, as there resolved to die ; 
 
 In arms, at least, he stood, in act to spring 
 
 On the first foe whom Lambro's call might bring. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 91 
 
 XL. 
 
 " Young man, your sword •" so Lambro once more said : 
 Juan replied, " Not while this arm is free. 1 ' 
 
 The old man's cheek grew pale, but not with dread, 
 And drawing from his belt a pistol, he 
 
 Replied, " Your blood be then on your own head. 1 " 
 Then look'd close at the flint, as if to see 
 
 'Twas fresh — for he had lately used the lock — 
 
 And next proceeded quietly to cock. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 It has a strange quick jar upon the ear, 
 That cocking of a pistol, when you know 
 
 A moment more will bring the sight to bear 
 Upon your person, twelve yards off, or so ; 
 
 A gentlemanly distance, not too near, 
 If you have got a former friend for foe ; 
 
 But after being fired at once or twice, 
 
 The ear becomes more Irish, and less nice. 
 
92 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Lambro presented, and one instant more 
 
 Had stopp'd this Canto, and Don Juan's breath, 
 
 When Haidee threw herself her boy before ; 
 
 Stern as her sire : " On me," she cried, " let death 
 
 " Descend — the fault is mine ; this fatal shore 
 
 " He found — but sought not. I have pledged my faith ; 
 
 " I love him — I will die with him : I knew 
 
 " Your nature's firmness — know your daughter's too.'* 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 A minute past, and she had been all tears, 
 And tenderness, and infancy : but now 
 
 She stood as one who champion'd human fears — 
 Pale, statue-like, and stern, she woo'd the blow ; 
 
 And tall beyond her sex, and their compeers, 
 She drew up to her height, as if to show 
 
 A fairer mark ; and with a fix'd eye scann'd 
 
 Her father's face — but never stopp'd his hand. 
 
Canto IV. 
 
 DON JUAN. 93 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 He gazed on her, and she on him ; 'twas strange 
 
 How like they looked ! the expression was the same ; 
 
 Serenely savage, with a little change 
 
 In the large dark eye's mutual-darted flame ; 
 
 For she too was as one who could avenge, 
 If cause should be — a lioness, though tame : 
 
 Her father's blood before her father's face 
 
 Boil'd up, and proved her truly of his race. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 I said they were alike, their features and 
 Their stature differing but in sex and years ; 
 
 Even to the delicacy of their hands 
 
 There was resemblance, such as true blood wears ; 
 
 And now to see them, thus divided, stand 
 In fix'd ferocity, when joyous tears, 
 
 And sweet sensations, should have welcomed both, 
 
 Show what the passions are in their full growth. 
 
94 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 The father paused a moment, then withdrew 
 His weapon, and replaced it ; but stood still, 
 
 And looking on her, as to look her through, 
 
 " Not /," he said, " have sought this stranger's ill ; 
 
 " Not / have made this desolation : few 
 
 " Would bear such outrage, and forbear to kill ; 
 
 " But I must do my duty — how thou hast 
 
 " Done thine, the present vouches for the past. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 " Let him disarm ; or, by my father's head, 
 " His own shall roll before you like a ball !" 
 
 He raised his whistle, as the word he said, 
 And blew ; another answered to the call, 
 
 And rushing in disorderly, though led, 
 
 And arm'd from boot to turban, one and all, 
 
 Some twenty of his train came, rank on rank ; 
 
 He gave the word, " Arrest or slay the Frank.' 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 95 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 Then, with a sudden movement, he withdrew 
 
 His daughter ; while compress 1 d within his grasp, 
 
 'Twixt her and Juan interposed the crew ; 
 In vain she struggled in her father's grasp — 
 
 His arms were like a serpent's coil : then flew 
 Upon their prey, as darts an angry asp, 
 
 The file of pirates ; save the foremost, who 
 
 Had fallen, with his right shoulder half cut through. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 The second had his cheek laid open ; but 
 The third, a wary, cool old sworder, took 
 
 The blows upon his cutlass, and then put 
 
 His own well in ; so well, ere you could look, 
 
 His man was floor'd, and helpless at his foot, 
 With the blood running like a little brook 
 
 From two smart sabre gashes, deep and red— 
 
 One on the arm, the other on the head. 
 
96 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 And then they bound him where he fell, and bore 
 Juan from the apartment : with a sign 
 
 Old Lambro bade them take him to the shore, 
 Where lay some ships which were to sail at nine. 
 
 They laid him in a boat, and plied the oar 
 
 Until they reached some galliots, placed in line ; 
 
 On board of one of these, and under hatches, 
 
 They stowed him, with strict orders to the watches. 
 
 LI. 
 
 The world is full of strange vicissitudes, 
 And here was one exceedingly unpleasant : 
 
 A gentleman so rich in the world's goods, 
 
 Handsome and young, enjoying all the present, 
 
 Just at the very time when he least broods 
 On such a thing is suddenly to sea sent, 
 
 Wounded and chain'd, so that he cannot move, 
 
 And all because a lady fell in love. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 97 
 
 LII. 
 
 Here I must leave him, for I grow pathetic, 
 
 Moved by the Chinese nymph of tears, green tea ! 
 
 Than whom Cassandra was not more prophetic ; 
 For if my pure libations exceed three, 
 
 I feel my heart become so sympathetic, 
 
 That I must have recourse to black Bohea : 
 
 'Tis pity wine should be so deleterious, 
 
 For tea and coffee leave us much more serious, 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Unless when qualified with thee, Cogniac ! 
 
 Sweet Naiad of the Phlegethontic rill ! 
 Ah ! why the liver wilt thou thus attack, 
 
 And make, like other nymphs, thy lovers ill ? 
 I would take refuge in weak punch, but rack 
 
 (In each sense of the word), whene'er I fill 
 My mild and midnight beakers to the brim, 
 Wakes me next morning with its synonym. 
 
 H 
 
98 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 I leave Don Juan for the present, safe — 
 
 Not sound, poor fellow, but severely wounded ; 
 
 Yet could his corporal pangs amount to half 
 
 Of those with which his Haidee's bosom bounded ! 
 
 She was not one to weep, and rave, and chafe, 
 
 And then give way, subdued because surrounded ; 
 
 Her mother was a Moorish maid, from Fez, 
 
 Where all is Eden, or a wilderness. 
 
 LV. 
 
 There the large olive rains its amber store 
 
 In marble fonts ; there grain, and flower, and fruit, 
 
 Gush from the earth until the land runs o'er ; 
 But there too many a poison-tree has root, 
 
 And midnight listens to the lion's roar, 
 
 And long, long deserts scorch the camel's foot, 
 
 Or heaving whelm the helpless caravan, 
 
 And as the soil is, so the heart of man. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 99 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Afric is all the sun's, and as her earth 
 
 Her human clay is kindled ; full of power 
 
 For good or evil, burning from its birth, 
 
 The Moorish blood partakes the planet's hour, 
 
 And like the soil beneath it will bring forth : 
 Beauty and love were Haidee's mother's dower ; 
 
 But her large dark eye show'd deep Passion's force, 
 
 Though sleeping like a lion near a source. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Her daughter, temper'd with a milder ray, 
 
 Like summer clouds all silvery, smooth, and fair, 
 
 Till slowly charged with thunder they display 
 Terror to earth, and tempest to the air, 
 
 Had held till now her soft and milky way ; 
 But overwrought with passion and despair, 
 
 The fire burst forth from her Numidian veins, 
 
 Even as the Simoon sweeps the blasted plains. 
 
 h2 
 
100 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore, 
 And he himself o'ermaster'd and cut down ; 
 
 His blood was running on the very floor 
 
 Where late he trod, her beautiful, her own ; 
 
 Thus much she view'd an instant and no more, — 
 Her struggles ceased with one convulsive groan ; 
 
 On her sire's arm, which until now scarce held 
 
 Her writhing, fell she like a cedar felPd. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 A vein had burst, and her sweet lips'' pure dyes ( 2 ) 
 Were dabbled with the deep blood which ran o'er ; 
 
 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 ; 
 
 Of herbs and cordials they produced their store, 
 
 But she defied all means they could employ, 
 
 Like one life could not hold, nor death destroy. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 101 
 
 LX. 
 
 Days lay she in that state unchanged, though chill 
 With nothing livid, still her lips were red ; 
 
 She had no pulse, but death seem'd absent still; 
 No hideous sign proclaim'd her surely dead ; 
 
 Corruption came not in each mind to kill 
 All hope ; to look upon her sweet face bred 
 
 New thoughts of life, for it seem'd full of soul, 
 
 She had so much, earth could not claim the whole. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 The ruling passion, such as marble shows 
 When exquisitely chisell'd, still lay there, 
 
 But fix'd as marble's unchanged aspect thro.vs 
 O'er the fair Venus, but for ever fair ; 
 
 O'er the Laocoon's all eternal throes, 
 And ever-dying Gladiator's air, 
 
 Their energy like life forms all their fame, 
 
 Yet looks not life, for they are still the same. 
 
102 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 She woke at length, but not as sleepers wake, 
 Rather the dead, for life seem'd something new, 
 
 A strange sensation which she must partake 
 Perforce, since whatsoever met her view 
 
 Struck not on memory, though a heavy ache 
 Lay at her heart, whose earliest beat still true 
 
 Brought back the sense of pain without the cause, 
 
 For, for a while, the furies made a pause. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 She look'd on many a face with vacant eye, 
 On many a token without knowing what ; 
 
 She saw them watch her without asking why, 
 And reck'd not who around her pillow sat ; 
 
 Not speechless though she spoke not ; not a sigh 
 Relieved her thoughts ; dull silence and quick chat 
 
 Were tried in vain by those who served ; she gave 
 
 No sign, save breath, of having left the grave. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 103 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Her handmaids tended, but she heeded not ; 
 
 Her father watch'd, she turn'd her eyes away ; 
 She recognised no being, and no spot 
 
 However dear or cherish'd in their day ; 
 They changed from room to room, but all forgot, 
 
 Gentle, but without memory she lay ; 
 And yet those eyes, which they would fain be weaning 
 Back to old thoughts, seem'd full of fearful meaning. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 At last a slave bethought her of a harp ; 
 
 The harper came, and tuned his instrument; 
 At the first notes, irregular and sharp, 
 
 On him her flashing eyes a moment bent, 
 Then to the wall she turn'd as if to warp 
 
 Her thoughts from sorrow through her heart re-sent, 
 And he begun a long low island song 
 Of ancient days, ere tyranny grew strong. 
 
104 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Anon her thin wan fingers beat the wall 
 
 In time to his old tune ; he changed the theme, 
 And sung of love ; the fierce name struck through all 
 
 Her recollection ; on her flash'd the dream 
 Of what she was, and is, if ye could call 
 
 To be so being ; in a gushing stream 
 The tears rush'd forth from her o'erclouded brain, 
 Like mountain mists at length dissolved in rain. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Short solace, vain relief! — thought came too quick, 
 And whirl'd her brain to madness ; she arose 
 
 As one who ne'er had dwelt among the sick, 
 And flew at all she met, as on her foes ; 
 
 But no one ever heard her speak or shriek, 
 
 Although her paroxysm drew towards it close : 
 
 Hers was a phrensy which disdain'd to rave, 
 
 Even when they smote her, in the hope to save. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 105 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Yet she betray'd at times a gleam of sense ; 
 
 Nothing could make her meet her father's face, 
 Though on all other things with looks intense 
 
 She gazed, but none she ever could retrace ; 
 Food she refused, and raiment ; no pretence 
 
 Availed for either ; neither change of place, 
 Nor time, nor skill, nor remedy, could give her 
 Senses to sleep — the power seem'd gone for ever. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Twelve days and nights she wither'd thus; at last, 
 Without a groan, or sigh, or glance, to show 
 
 A parting pang, the spirit from her past : 
 
 And they who watch'd her nearest could not know 
 
 The very instant, till the change that cast 
 Her sweet face into shadow, dull and slow, 
 
 Glazed o'er her eyes — the beautiful, the black — 
 
 Oh ! to possess such lustre — and then lack ! 
 
106 DON JUAN. Canto IV 
 
 LXX. 
 
 She died, but not alone ; she held within 
 A second principle of life, which might 
 
 Have dawn'd a fair and sinless child of sin ; 
 But closed its little being without light, 
 
 And went down to the grave unborn, wherein 
 Blossom and bough lie wither'd with one blight ; 
 
 In vain the dews of Heaven descend above 
 
 The bleeding flower and blasted fruit of love. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Thus lived — thus died she ; never more on her 
 Shall sorrow light, or shame. She was not made 
 
 Through years or moons the inner weight to bear, 
 Which colder hearts endure till they are laid 
 
 By age in earth ; her days and pleasures were 
 Brief, but delightful — such as had not staid 
 
 Long with her destiny ; but she sleeps well 
 
 By the sea shore, whereon she loved to dwell. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN 107 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 That isle is now all desolate and bare, 
 
 Its dwellings down, its tenants past away ; 
 
 None but her own and father's grave is there, 
 And nothing outward tells of human clay ; 
 
 Ye could not know where lies a thing so fair, 
 No stone is there to show, no tongue to say 
 
 What was ; no dirge, except the hollow sea's, 
 
 Mourns o'er the beauty of the Cyclades. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 But many a Greek maid in a loving song 
 Sighs o'er her name ; and many an islander 
 
 With her sire's story makes the night less long ; 
 Valour was his, and beauty dwelt with her ; 
 
 If she loved rashly, her life paid for wrong — 
 A heavy price must all pay who thus err, 
 
 In some shape ; let none think to fly the danger, 
 
 For soon or late Love is his own avenger. 
 
108 DON JUAN. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Canto IV. 
 
 But let me change this theme, which grows too sad, 
 And lay this sheet of sorrows on the shelf; 
 
 I don't much like describing people mad, 
 For fear of seeming rather touched myself — 
 
 Besides 1 1 ve no more on this head to add ; 
 And as my Muse is a capricious elf, 
 
 We'll put about, and try another tack 
 
 With Juan, left half-kill'd some stanzas back. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Wounded and fetter'd, " cabin'd, cribb'd, confined," 
 Some days and nights elapsed before that he 
 
 Could altogether call the past to mind ; ' 
 And when he did, he found himself at sea, 
 
 Sailing six knots an hour before the wind ; 
 The shores of Ilion lay beneath their lee — 
 
 Another time he might have liked to see 'em, 
 
 But now was not much pleased with Cape Sigaeum. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 109 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 There, on the green and village-cotted hill, is 
 (Flank 'd by the Hellespont, and by the sea) 
 
 Entomb 'd the bravest of the brave, Achilles ; 
 They say so — (Bryant says the contrary) : 
 
 And further downward, tall and towering still, is 
 
 The tumulus — of whom ? Heaven knows ; 't may be 
 
 Patroclus, Ajax, or Protesilaus ; 
 
 All heroes who if living still would slay us. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 High barrows, without marble, or a name, 
 A vast, untill'd, and mountain-skirted plain, 
 
 And Ida in the distance, still the same, 
 And old Scamander, (if 'tis he) remain ; 
 
 The situation seems still form'd for fame — 
 A hundred thousand men might fight again 
 
 With ease ; but where I sought for Ilion's walls, 
 
 The quiet sheep feeds, and the tortoise crawls ; 
 
110 DON JUAN. Canto IV- 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Troops of untended horses ; here and there 
 Some little hamlets, with new names uncouth ; 
 
 Some shepherds, (unlike Paris) led to stare 
 A moment at the European youth 
 
 Whom to the spot their school-boy feelings bear. 
 A Turk, with beads in hand, and pipe in mouth, 
 
 Extremely taken with his own religion, 
 
 Are what I found there — but the devil a Phrygian. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 Don Juan, here permitted to emerge 
 
 From his dull cabin, found himself a slave ; 
 
 Forlorn, and gazing on the deep blue surge, 
 O'ershadow'd there by many a hero's grave ; 
 
 Weak still with loss of bloodj he scarce could urge 
 A few brief questions ; and the answers gave 
 
 No very satisfactory information 
 
 About his past or present situation. 
 
Canto IV. 
 
 DON JUAN. HI 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 He saw some fellow captives, who appear'd 
 To be Italians, as they were in fact ; 
 
 From them, at least, their destiny he heard, 
 Which was an odd one ; a troop going to act 
 
 In Sicily — all singers, duly rear'd 
 
 In their vocation ; had not been attack'd 
 
 In sailing from Livorno by the pirate, 
 
 But sold by the impresario at no high rate. ( 3 ) 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 By one of these, the buffo of the party, 
 Juan was told about their curious case ; 
 
 For although destined to the Turkish mart, he 
 Still kept his spirits up — at least his face ; 
 
 The little fellow really look'd quite hearty, 
 And bore him with some gaiety and grace, 
 
 Showing a much more reconcil'd demeanour 
 
 Than did the prima donna and the tenor. 
 
112 
 
 DON JUAN. canto IV. 
 
 LXXX1I. 
 
 In a few words he told their hapless story, 
 Saying, " Our Machiavelian impresario, 
 
 " Making a signal off some promontory, 
 
 " Hail'd a strange brig ; Corpo di Caio Mario ! 
 
 " We were transferr'd on board her in a hurry, 
 " Without a single scudo of salario ; 
 
 " But if the Sultan has a taste for song, 
 
 " We will revive our fortunes before long. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 " The prima donna, though a little old 
 " And haggard with a dissipated life, 
 
 " And subject, when the house is thin, to cold, 
 
 " Has some good notes ; and then the tenor's wife, 
 
 " With no great voice, is pleasing to behold ; 
 " Last carnival she made a deal of strife 
 
 " By carrying off Count Cesare Cicogna 
 
 " From an old Roman princess at Bologna. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 113 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 **' And then there are the dancers ; there's the Nini, 
 " With more than one profession gains by all; 
 
 " Then there's that laughing slut the Pelegrini, 
 " She too was fortunate last carnival, 
 
 " And made at least five hundred good zecchini, 
 " But spends so fast, she has not now a paul ; 
 
 " And then there's the Grotesca — such a dancer ! 
 
 " Where men have souls or bodies she must answer. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 " As for the figuranti, they are like 
 
 " The rest of all that tribe ; with here and there 
 " A pretty person, which perhaps may strike, 
 
 " The rest are hardly fitted for a fair ; 
 " There's one, though tall and stiffer than a pike, 
 
 " Yet has a sentimental kind of air 
 " Which might go far, but she don't dance with vigour, 
 " The more's the pity, with her face and figure. 
 
 i 
 
114 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 " As for the men, they are a middling set ; 
 
 " The Musico is but a crack' d old basin, 
 " But being qualified in one way yet, 
 
 " May the seraglio do to set his face in, 
 " And as a servant some preferment get ; 
 
 " His singing I no further trust can place in : 
 " From all the pope ( 4 ) makes yearly 'twould perplex 
 " To find three perfect pipes of the third sex. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 " The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation, 
 
 " And for the bass, the beast can only bellow; 
 
 u In fact, he had no singing education, 
 
 " An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow, 
 
 " But being the prima donna's near relation, 
 
 " Who swore his voice was very rich and mellow, 
 
 " They hired him, though to hear him you'd believe 
 
 " An ass was practising recitative. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 115 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 " 'T would not become myself to dwell upon 
 
 " My own merits, and though young— I see, Sir — you 
 
 " Have got a travell'd air, which shows you one 
 " To whom the opera is by no means new : 
 
 " You Ve heard of Haucocanti ? — I 'm the man ; 
 " The time may come when you may hear me too ; 
 
 " You was not last year at the fair of Lugo, 
 
 " But next, when I'm engaged to sing there — do go. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 " Our baritone I almost had forgot, 
 
 " A pretty lad, but bursting with conceit ; 
 
 " With graceful action, science not a jot, 
 
 " A voice of no great compass, and not sweet, 
 
 " He always is complaining of his lot, 
 
 " Forsooth, scarce fit for ballads in the street ; 
 
 " In lovers' parts his passion more to breathe, 
 
 " Having no heart to show, he shows his teeth." 
 
 i2 
 
116 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 xc. 
 
 Here Raucocanti's eloquent recital 
 
 Was interrupted by the pirate crew, 
 Who came at stated moments to invite all 
 
 The captives back to their sad births ; each threw 
 A rueful glance upon the waves (which bright all 
 
 From the blue skies derived a double blue, 
 Dancing all free and happy in the sun), 
 And then went down the hatchway one by one. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 They heard next day — that in the Dardanelles, 
 Waiting for his sublimity"^ firman, 
 
 The most imperative of sovereign spells, 
 Which every body does without who can, 
 
 More to secure them in their naval cells, 
 Lady to lady, well as man to man, 
 
 Were to be chain'd and lotted out per couple, 
 
 For the slave market of Constantinople. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 117 
 
 XCII. 
 
 It seems when this allotment was made out, 
 
 There chanced to be an odd male, and odd female, 
 
 Who (after some discussion and some doubt, 
 If the soprano might be doom'd to be male, 
 
 They placed him o'er the women as a scout) 
 Were link'd together, and it happen'd the male 
 
 Was Juan, who, — an awkward thing at his age, 
 
 Pair'd off with a Bacchante blooming visage. 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 With Raucocanti lucklessly was chain'd 
 The tenor ; these two hated with a hate 
 
 Found only on the stage, and each more pain'd 
 With this his tuneful neighbour than his fate ; 
 
 Sad strife arose, for they were so cross-grain'd, 
 Instead of bearing up without debate, 
 
 That each pull'd different ways with many an oath, 
 
 " Arcades ambo," id est — blackguards both. 
 
118 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 Juan's companion was a Romagnole, 
 
 But bred within the March of old Ancona, 
 
 With eyes that look'd into the very soul 
 
 (And other chief points of a " bella donna 1 '), 
 
 Bright — and as black and burning as a coal ; 
 
 And through her clear brunette complexion shone a 
 
 Great wish to please — a most attractive dower, 
 
 Especially when added to the power. 
 
 xcv. 
 
 But all that power was wasted upon him, 
 
 For sorrow o'er each sense held stern command ; 
 
 Her eye might flash on his, but found it dim ; 
 And though thus chain'd, as natural her hand 
 
 Touch'd his, nor that — nor any handsome limb 
 (And she had some not easy to withstand) 
 
 Could stir his pulse, or make his faith feel brittle ; 
 
 Perhaps his recent wounds might help a little. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 119 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 No matter ; we should ne'er too much inquire, 
 But facts are facts, no knight could be more true, 
 
 And firmer faith no ladye-love desire ; 
 We will omit the proofs, save one or two, 
 
 'Tis said no one in hand " can hold a fire 
 " By thought of frosty Caucasus," but few 
 
 I really think ; yet Juan's then ordeal 
 
 Was more triumphant, and not much less real. 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 Here I might enter on a chaste description, 
 Having withstood temptation in my youth, 
 
 But hear that several people take exception 
 At the first two books having too much truth ; 
 
 Therefore I '11 make Don Juan leave the ship soon, 
 Because the publisher declares, in sooth, 
 
 Through needles' eyes it easier for the camel is 
 
 To pass, than those two cantos into families. 
 
120 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 'Tis all the same to me; I'm fond of yielding, 
 And therefore leave them to the purer page 
 
 Of Smollet, Prior, Ariosto, Fielding, 
 
 Who say strange things for so correct an age ; 
 
 I once had great alacrity in wielding 
 My pen, and liked poetic war to wage, 
 
 And recollect the time when all this cant 
 
 Would have provoked remarks which now it shan't. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 As boys love rows, my boyhood liked a squabble ; 
 
 But at this hour I wish to part in peace, 
 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, 
 
 Or of some centuries to take a lease ; 
 The grass upon my grave will grow as long, 
 And sigh to midnight winds, but not to song. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 121 
 
 Of poets who come down to us through distance 
 Of time and tongues, the foster-babes of Fame, 
 
 Life seems the smallest portion of existence ; 
 Where twenty ages gather o'er a name, 
 
 'Tis as a snowball which derives assistance 
 From every flake, and yet rolls on the same, 
 
 Even till an iceberg it may chance to grow, 
 
 But after all 'tis nothing but cold snow. 
 
 CI. 
 
 And so great names are nothing more than nominal, 
 
 And love of glory 's but an airy lust, 
 Too often in its fury overcoming all 
 
 Who would as 'twere identify their dust 
 From out the wide destruction, which, entombing all, 
 
 Leaves nothing till the coming of the just — 
 Save change ; I 've stood upon Achilles' tomb, 
 And heard Troy doubted ; time will doubt of Rome. 
 
122 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 CII. 
 
 The very generations of the dead 
 
 Are swept away, and tomb inherits tomb, 
 
 Until the memory of an age is fled, 
 
 And, buried, 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, 
 
 And lose their own in universal death. 
 
 cm. 
 
 I canter by the spot each afternoon 
 
 Where perish'd in his fame the hero-boy, 
 
 Who lived too long for men, but died too soon 
 For human vanity, the young De Foix ! 
 
 A broken pillar, not uncouthly hewn, 
 
 But which neglect is hastening to destroy, 
 
 Records Ravenna's carnage on its face, 
 
 While weeds and ordure rankle round the base. ( fi ) 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 123 
 
 CIV. 
 
 I pass each day where Dante's bones are laid : 
 A little cupola, more neat than solemn, 
 
 Protects his dust, but reverence here is paid 
 
 To the bard's tomb, and not the warrior's column : 
 
 The time must come, when both alike decay'd, 
 The chieftain's trophy, and the poet's volume, 
 
 Will sink where lie the songs and wars of earth, 
 
 Before Pelides' death, or Homer's birth. 
 
 CV. 
 
 With human blood that column was cemented, 
 With human filth that column is defiled, 
 
 As if the peasant's coarse contempt were vented 
 To show his loathing of the spot he soil'd ; 
 
 Thus is the trophy used, and thus lamented 
 
 Should ever be those blood- hounds, from whose wild 
 
 Instinct of gore and glory earth has known 
 
 Those sufferings Dante saw in hell alone. 
 
124 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 CV-I. 
 
 Yet there will still be bards ; though fame is smoke, 
 Its fumes are frankincense to human thought ; 
 
 And the unquiet feelings, which first woke 
 
 Song in the world, will seek what then they sought; 
 
 As on the beach the waves at last are broke, 
 
 Thus to their extreme verge the passions brought 
 
 Dash into poetry, which is but passion, 
 
 Or at least was so ere it grew a fashion. 
 
 CVII. 
 
 If in the course of such a life as was 
 At once adventurous and contemplative, 
 
 Men who partake all passions as they pass, 
 Acquire the deep and bitter power to give 
 
 Their images again as in a glass, 
 
 And in such colours that they seem to live ; 
 
 You may do right forbidding them to show 'em, 
 
 But spoil (I think) a very pretty poem. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 125 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 Oh ! ye, who make the fortunes of all books ! 
 
 Benign ceruleans of the second sex ! 
 Who advertise new poems by your looks, 
 
 Your " imprimatur " will ye not annex ? 
 What, must I go to the oblivious cooks ? 
 
 Those Cornish plunderers of Parnassian wrecks ? 
 Ah ! must I then the only minstrel be, 
 Proscribed from tasting your Castalian tea ! 
 
 CIX. 
 
 What, can I prove " a lion" then no more ? 
 
 A ball-room bard, a foolscap, hot-press darling ? 
 To bear the compliments of many a bore, 
 
 And sigh, " I can't get out, " like Yorick's starling ; 
 Why then I'll swear, as poet Wordy swore, 
 
 (Because the world won't read him, always snarling) 
 That taste is gone, that fame is but a lottery, 
 Drawn by the blue-coat misses of a coterie. 
 
126 DON JUAN. Canto IV- 
 
 ex. 
 
 Oh ! "darkly, deeply, beautifully blue," 
 
 As some one somewhere sings about the sky, 
 
 And I, ye learned ladies, say of you ; 
 
 They say your stockings are so (Heaven knows why, 
 
 I have examined few pair of that hue) ; 
 Blue as the garters which serenely lie 
 
 Round the Patrician left-legs, which adorn 
 
 The festal midnight, and the levee morn. 
 
 CXI. 
 
 Yet some of you are' most seraphic creatures — 
 But times are alter'd since, a rhyming lover, 
 
 You read my stanzas, and I read your features : 
 And — but no matter, all those things are over ; 
 
 Still I have no dislike to learned natures, 
 
 For sometimes such a world of virtues cover ; 
 
 I know one woman of that purple school, 
 
 The loveliest, chastest, best, but — quite a fool. 
 
Canto IV. 
 
 DON JUAN. 127 
 
 CXII. 
 
 Humboldt, " the first of travellers, 1 ' but not 
 The last, if late accounts be accurate, 
 
 Invented, by some name I have forgot, 
 As well as the sublime discovery's date, 
 
 An airy instrument, with which he sought 
 To ascertain the atmospheric state, 
 
 By measuring " the intensity of blue : " 
 
 Oh, Lady Daphne ! let me measure you ! 
 
 CXIII. 
 
 But to the narrative : the vessel bound 
 
 With slaves to sell off in the capital, 
 After the usual process, might be found 
 
 At anchor under the seraglio wall ; 
 Her cargo, from the plague being safe and sound, 
 
 Were landed in the market, one and all, 
 And there with Georgians, Russians, and Circassians, 
 Bought up for different purposes and passions. 
 
128 DON JUAN. Canto IV. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 Some went off dearly ; fifteen hundred dollars 
 For one Circassian, a sweet girl, were given, 
 
 Warranted virgin ; beauty's brightest colours 
 Had deck'd her out in all the hues of heaven : 
 
 Her sale sent home some disappointed bawlers, 
 Who bade on till the hundreds reach'd eleven ; 
 
 But when the offer went beyond, they knew 
 
 'Twas for the Sultan, and at once withdrew. 
 
 cxv. 
 
 Twelve negresses from Nubia brought a price 
 
 Which the West Indian market scarce would bring ; 
 
 Though Wilberforce, at last, has made it twice 
 What 'twas ere Abolition ; and the thing 
 
 Need not seem very wonderful, for vice 
 
 Is always much more splendid than a king : 
 
 The virtues, even the most exalted, Charity, 
 
 Are saving — vice spares nothing for a rarity. 
 
Canto IV. DON JUAN. 129 
 
 CXVI. 
 
 But for the destiny of this young troop, 
 
 How some were bought by pachas, some by Jews, 
 
 How some to burdens were obliged to stoop, 
 And others rose to the command of crews 
 
 As renegadoes ; while in hapless group, 
 Hoping no very old vizier might choose, 
 
 The females stood, as one by one they pick'd 'em, 
 
 To make a mistress, or fourth wife, or victim : 
 
 CXVII. 
 
 All this must be reserved for further song ; 
 
 Also our hero's lot, howe'er unpleasant, 
 (Because this Canto has become too long) 
 
 Must be postponed discreetly for the present ; 
 I 'm sensible redundancy is wrong, 
 
 But could not for the muse of me put less in't 
 And now delay the progress of Don Juan, 
 Till what is call'd in Ossian the fifth Duan. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO IV. 
 
 Note 1, page 77, stanza xii. 
 " Whom the gods love die young " was said of yore. 
 See Herodotus. 
 
 Note 2, page 100, stanza lix. 
 
 A vein, had burst. 
 
 This is no very uncommon effect of the violence of con- 
 flicting and different passions. The Doge Francis Foscari, 
 on his deposition in 1457, hearing the bells of St. Mark an- 
 nounce the election of his successor, " mourut subitement 
 d'une hemorragie causee par une veine qui s'eclata dans sa 
 poitrine, *' (see Sismondi and Daru, vols, i. and ii ) at the age 
 of eighty years, when " Who tuould have thought the old man 
 had so much blood in him ?" Before I was sixteen years of 
 age, I was witness to a melancholy instance of the same 
 effect of mixed passions upon a young person ; who, however, 
 did not die in consequence, at that time, but fell a victim 
 some years afterwards to a seizure of the same kind, arising 
 from causes intimately connected with agitation of mind. 
 
 k2 
 
132 NOTES TO CANTO IV. 
 
 Note 3, page 111, stanza lxxx. 
 
 But sold by the impresario at no high rate. 
 
 This is a fact. A few years ago a man engaged a com- 
 pany for some foreign theatre ; embarked them at an Italian 
 port, and carrying them to Algiers, sold them all. One of 
 the women, returned from her captivity, I heard sing, by a 
 strange coincidence, in Rossini's opera of ( ' LTtaliana in 
 Algeri, " at Venice, in the beginning of 1817- 
 
 Note 4, page 114, stanza lxxxvi. 
 
 " From all the pope makes yearly Htuould perplex 
 " To find three perfect pipes of the third sex. 
 
 It is strange that it should be the Pope and the Sultan 
 who are the chief encouragers of this branch of trade — 
 women being prohibited as singers at St. Peter's, and not 
 deemed trust-worthy as guardians of the haram. 
 
 Note 5, page 122, stanza ciii. 
 
 While weeds and ordure rankle round the base. 
 The pillar which records the battle of Ravenna is about 
 two miles from the city, on the opposite side of the river to 
 the road towards Forli. Gaston de Foix, who gained the 
 battle, was killed in it ; there fell on both sides twenty thou- 
 sand men. The present state of the pillar and its site is 
 described in the text. 
 
DON JUAN 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 I. 
 
 When amatory poets sing their loves 
 
 In liquid lines mellifluously bland, 
 And praise their rhymes as Venus yokes her doves, 
 
 Thev little think what mischief is in hand ; 
 The greater their success the worse it proves, 
 
 As Ovid's verse may make you understand ; 
 Even Petrarch's self, if judged with due severity, 
 Is the Platonic pimp of all posterity. 
 
136 DON JUAN. Canto V- 
 
 II. 
 
 I therefore do denounce all amorous writing, 
 Except in such a way as not to attract ; 
 
 Plain — simple — short, and by no means inviting, 
 But with a moral to each error tacked, 
 
 Formed rather for instructing than delighting, 
 And with all passions in their turn attacked ; 
 
 Now, if my Pegasus should not be shod ill, 
 
 This poem will become a moral model. 
 
 III. 
 
 The European with the Asian shore 
 
 Sprinkled with palaces ; the ocean stream (0 
 
 Here and there studded with a seventy-four ; 
 Sophia's cupola with golden gleam ; 
 
 The cypress groves ; Olympus high and hoar ; 
 
 The twelve isles, and the more than I could dream, 
 
 Far less describe, present the very view 
 
 Which charmed the charming Mary Montagu. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 137 
 
 IV. 
 
 I have a passion for the name of " Mary,"" 
 For once it was a magic sound to me ; 
 
 And still it half calls up the realms of fairy, 
 Where I beheld what never was to be ; 
 
 All feelings changed, but this was last to vary, 
 A spell from which even yet I am not quite free : 
 
 But I grow sad — and let a tale grow cold, 
 
 Which must not be pathetically told. 
 
 V. 
 
 The wind swept down the Euxine, and the wave 
 Broke foaming o'er the blue Symplegades ; 
 
 'Tis a grand sight from off " the Giant's Grave" ( 2 ) 
 To watch the progress of those rolling seas 
 
 Between the Bosphorus, as they lash and lave 
 Europe and Asia, you being quite at ease ; 
 
 There's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in, 
 
 Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine. v 
 
138 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 'Twas a raw day of Autumn's bleak beginning, 
 When nights are equal, but not so the days ; 
 
 The Parcae then cut short the further spinning 
 Of seamen's fates, and the loud tempests raise 
 
 The waters, and repentance for past sinning 
 In all, who o'er the great deep take their ways : 
 
 They vow to amend their lives, and yet they don't ; 
 
 Because if drown'd, they can't — if spared, they won't. 
 
 VII. 
 
 A crowd of shivering slaves of every nation, 
 And age, and sex, were in the market ranged ; 
 
 Each bevy with the merchant in his station : 
 
 Poor creatures ! their good looks were sadly changed. 
 
 All save the blacks seem'd jaded with vexation, 
 
 From friends, and home, and freedom far estranged ; 
 
 The negroes more philosophy display'd, — 
 
 Used to it, no doubt, as eels are to be flay'd. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 139 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Juan was juvenile, and thus was full, 
 
 As most at his age are, of hope, and health ; 
 
 Yet I must own, he looked a little dull, 
 
 And now and then a tear stole down by stealth ; 
 
 Perhaps his recent loss of blood might pull 
 His spirit down ; and then the loss of wealth, 
 
 A mistress, and such comfortable quarters, 
 
 To be put up for auction amongst Tartars, 
 
 IX 
 
 Were things to shake a stoic ; ne'ertheless, 
 Upon the whole his carriage was serene : 
 
 His figure, and the splendour of his dress, 
 
 Of which some gilded remnants still were seen, 
 
 Drew all eyes on him, giving them to guess 
 He was above the vulgar by his mien ; 
 
 And then, though pale, he was so very handsome ; 
 
 And then — they calculated on his ransom. 
 
140 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 X. 
 
 Like a backgammon board the place was dotted 
 With whites and blacks, in groups on show for sale, 
 
 Though rather more irregularly spotted : 
 
 Some bought the jet, while others chose the pale. 
 
 It chanced amongst the other people lotted, 
 A man of thirty, rather stout and hale, 
 
 With resolution in his dark gray eye, 
 
 Next Juan stood, till some might choose to buy. 
 
 XI. 
 
 He had an English look ; that is, was square 
 In make, of a complexion white and ruddy, 
 
 Good teeth, with curling rather dark brown hair, 
 And, it might be from thought, or toil, or study, 
 
 An open brow a little marked with care : 
 One arm had on a bandage rather bloody; 
 
 And there he stood with such sang-froid that greater 
 
 Could scarce be shown even by a mere spectator. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 141 
 
 XII. 
 
 But seeing at his elbow a mere lad, 
 Of a high spirit evidently, though 
 
 At present weighed down by a doom which had 
 Overthrown even men, he soon began to show 
 
 A kind of blunt compassion for the sad 
 Lot of so young a partner in the woe, 
 
 Which for himself he seem'd to deem no worse 
 
 Than any other scrape, a thing of course. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 " My boy !" — said he, " amidst this motley crew 
 " Of Georgians, Russians, Nubians, and what not, 
 
 " All ragamuffins differing but in hue, 
 
 " With whom it is our luck to cast our lot, 
 
 " The only gentlemen seem I and you ; 
 " So let us be acquainted, as we ought : 
 
 iC If I could yield you any consolation, 
 
 " 'Twould give me pleasure. — Pray, what is your nation ?" 
 
142 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 When Juan answered " Spanish I" he replied, 
 " I thought, in fact, you could not be a Greek ; 
 
 " Those servile dogs are not so proudly eyed : 
 " Fortune has played you here a pretty freak, 
 
 " But that's her way with all men till they're tried; 
 " But never mind, — she'll turn, perhaps, next week; 
 
 " She has served me also much the same as you, 
 
 " Except that I have found it nothing new." 
 
 XV. 
 
 " Pray, Sir," said Juan, " if I may presume, 
 
 " What brought you here?" — " Oh ! nothing very rare — 
 
 " Six Tartars and a drag-chain " — " To this doom 
 
 " But what conducted, if the question's fair, 
 
 " Is that which I would learn." — " I served for some 
 " Months with the Russian army here and there, 
 
 " And taking lately, by Suwarrow's bidding, 
 
 " A town, was ta'en myself instead of Widin.'' 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 143 
 
 XVI. 
 
 " Have you no friends ?" — " I had — but, by God's blessing, 
 u Have not been troubled with them lately. Now 
 
 " I have answered all your questions without pressing, 
 " And you an equal courtesy should show." — 
 
 " Alas !" said Juan, " 'twere a tale distressing, 
 " And long besides." — " Oh ! if 'tis really so, 
 
 " You're right on both accounts to hold your tongue ; 
 
 " A sad tale saddens doubly when 'tis long. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " But droop not : Fortune at your time of life, 
 " Although a female moderately fickle, 
 
 " Will hardly leave you (as she's not your wife) 
 " For any length of days in such a pickle. 
 
 " To strive too with our fate were such a strife 
 " As if the corn-sheaf should oppose the sickle 
 
 " Men are the sport of circumstances, when 
 
 " The circumstances seem the sport of men." 
 
144 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " 'Tis not," said Juan, " for my present doom 
 " I mourn, but for the past ; — I loved a maid :" 
 
 He paused, and his dark eye grew full of gloom ; 
 A single tear upon his eyelash staid 
 
 A moment, and then dropped ; " but to resume, 
 " 'T is not my present lot, as I have said, 
 
 " Which I deplore so much; for I have borne 
 
 " Hardships which have the hardiest overworn, 
 
 XIX. 
 
 On the rough deep. But this last blow — " and here 
 He stopped again, and turned away his face. 
 Ay," quoth his friend, " I thought it would appear 
 " That there had been a lady in the case ; 
 And these are things which ask a tender tear, 
 " Such as I too would shed if in your place : 
 I cried upon my first wife's dying day, 
 And also when my second ran away : 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 145 
 
 XX. 
 
 '* My third — * — " Your third ! " quoth Juan, turninground ; 
 
 " You scarcely can be thirty : have you three ?" 
 " No — only two at present above ground : 
 
 " Surely 'tis nothing wonderful to see 
 " One person thrice in holy wedlock bound !" 
 
 " Well, then, your third," said Juan ; " what did she ? 
 " She did not run away, too, did she, sir ?" 
 " No, faith."—" What then ?"— « I ran away from her." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " You take things coolly, sir," said Juan. " Why, 1 ' 
 Replied the other, " what can a man do ? 
 
 " There still are many rainbows in your sky, 
 
 " But mine have vanished. All, when life is new, 
 
 " Commence with feelings warm and prospects high ; 
 " But time strips our illusions of their hue, 
 
 " And one by one in turn, some grand mistake 
 
 " Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake. 
 
146 DON JUAN. Canto V, 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " 'Tis true, it gets another bright and fresh, 
 
 " Or fresher, brighter ; but the year gone through, 
 
 " This skin must go the way too of all flesh, 
 " Or sometimes only wear a week-or two ; — 
 
 " Love's the first net which spreads its deadly mesh ; 
 " Ambition, Avarice, Vengeance, Glory, glue 
 
 " The glittering lime-twigs of our latter days, 
 
 " Where still we flutter on for pence or praise." 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " All this is very fine, and may be true," 
 Said Juan ; " but I really don't see how 
 
 " It betters present times with me or you." 
 " No ?" quoth the other ; " yet you will allow 
 
 " By setting things in their right point of view, 
 
 " Knowledge, at least, is gained ; for instance, now, 
 
 " We know what slavery is, and our disasters 
 
 " May teach us better to behave when masters," 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 147 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Would we were masters now, if but to try 
 
 " Their present lessons on our Pagan friends here," 
 
 Said Juan — swallowing a heart-burning sigh : 
 
 " Heaven help the scholar whom his fortune sends here !" 
 
 " Perhaps we shall be one day, by and by," 
 
 Rejoined the other, " when our bad luck mends here ; 
 
 " Meantime (yon old black eunuch seems to eye us) 
 
 " I wish to G — d that somebody would buy us .' 
 
 XXV. 
 
 ** But after all, what is our present state ? 
 
 " 'Tis bad, and may be better — all men's lot : 
 " Most men are slaves, none more so than the great, 
 
 " To their own whims and passions, and what not ; 
 " Society itself, which should create 
 
 " Kindness, destroys what little we had got : 
 " To feel for none is the true social art 
 " Of the world's stoics — men without a heart." 
 
 l 2 
 
148 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Just now a black old neutral personage 
 
 Of the third sex stept up, and peering over 
 
 The captives, seemed to mark their looks and age, 
 And capabilities, as to_discover 
 
 If they were fitted for the purposed cage : 
 No lady e'er is ogled by a lover, 
 
 Horse by a blackleg, broadcloth by a tailor, 
 
 Fee by a counsel, felon by a jailor, 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 As is a slave by his intended bidder. 
 
 'Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow creatures ; 
 And all are to be sold, if you consider 
 
 Their passions, and are dext'rous ; some by features 
 Are bought up, others by a warlike leader, 
 
 Some by a place — as tend their years or natures ; 
 The most by ready cash — but all have prices, 
 From crowns to kicks, according to their vices. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 14# 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The eunuch having eyed them o'er with care, 
 Turn'd to the merchant, and begun to bid 
 
 First but for one, and after for the pair ; 
 
 They haggled, wrangled, swore, too — so they did ! 
 
 As though they were in a mere christian fair 
 Cheapening an ox, an ass, a lamb, or kid ; 
 
 So that their bargain sounded like a battle 
 
 For this superior yoke of human cattle. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 At last they settled into simple grumbling, 
 And pulling out reluctant purses, and 
 
 Turning each piece of silver o'er, and tumbling 
 Some down, and weighing others in their hand, 
 
 And by mistake sequins with paras jumbling, 
 Until the sum was accurately scanned, 
 
 And then the merchant giving change, and signing 
 
 Receipts in full, began to think of dining. 
 
150 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 I wonder if his appetite was good ? 
 
 Or, if it were, if also his digestion ? 
 Methinks at meals some odd thoughts might intrude, 
 
 And conscience ask a curious sort of question, 
 About the right divine how far we should 
 
 Sell flesh and blood. When dinner has opprest one, 
 I think it is perhaps the gloomiest hour 
 Which turns up out of the sad twenty-four. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Voltaire says " No :" he tells you that Candide 
 
 Found life most tolerable after meals ; 
 He's wrong — unless man was a pig, indeed, 
 
 Repletion rather adds to what he feels, 
 Unless he's drunk, and then no doubt he's freed 
 
 From his own brain's oppression while it reels. 
 Of food I think with Philip's son, or rather 
 Amnion's (ill pleased with one world and one father); 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 151 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 I think with Alexander, that the act 
 Of eating, with another act or two, 
 
 Makes us feel our mortality in fact 
 
 Redoubled ; when a roast and a ragout, 
 
 And fish, and soup, by some side dishes backed, 
 Can give us either pain or pleasure, who 
 
 Would pique himself on intellects, whose use 
 
 Depends so much upon the gastric juice ? 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The other evening ('twas on Friday last) — 
 This is a fact and no poetic fable — 
 
 Just as my great coat was about me cast, 
 My hat and gloves still lying on the table, 
 
 I heard a shot — 'twas eight o'clock scarce past- 
 And running out as fast as I was able, ( 3 ) 
 
 I found the military commandant 
 
 Stretched in the street, and able scarce to pant. 
 
152 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Poor fellow ! for some reason, surely bad, 
 
 They had slain him with five slugs ; and left him there 
 To perish on the pavement : so I had 
 
 Him borne into the house and up the stair, 
 And stripped, and looked to, But why should I add 
 
 More circumstances ? vain was every care ; 
 The man was gone : in some Italian quarrel 
 Killed by five bullets from an old gun-barrel. ( 4 ) 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 I gazed upon him, for I knew him well ; 
 
 And though I have seen many corpses, never 
 Saw one, whom such an accident befell, 
 
 So calm ; though pierced through stomach, heart, and 
 liver, 
 He seemed to sleep, for you could scarcely tell 
 
 (As he bled inwardly, no hideous river 
 Of gore divulged the cause) that he was dead : 
 So as I gazed on him, I thought or said — 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. . 158 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " 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, as the centurion saith, 
 
 " ' Go, 1 and he goeth ; ' come,' and forth he stepp'd. 
 " The trump and bugle till he spake were dumb — 
 " And now nought left him but the muffled drum." 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 And they who waited once and worshipped— they 
 With their rough faces thronged about the bed 
 
 To gaze once more on the commanding clay 
 
 Which for the last though not the first time bled 
 
 And such an end ! that he who many a day 
 Had faced Napoleon's foes until they fled, — 
 
 The foremost in the charge or in the sally, 
 
 Should now be butchered in a civic alley. 
 
154 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 The scars of his old wounds were near his new, 
 Those honourable scars which brought him fame ; 
 
 And horrid was the contrast to the view 
 
 But let me quit the theme ; 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, or shake, or make a faith ; 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 But it was all a mystery. Here we are, 
 
 And there we go : — but where ? five bits of lead, 
 
 Or three, or two, or one, send very far ! 
 
 And is this blood, then, formed but to be shed ? 
 
 Can every element our elements mar ? 
 
 And air — earth — water — fire live — and we dead ? 
 
 We, whose minds comprehend all things ? No more ; 
 
 But let us to the story as before. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 155 
 
 XL. 
 
 The purchaser of Juan and acquaintance 
 
 Bore off his bargains to a gilded boat, 
 Embarked himself and them, and off they went thence 
 
 As fast as oars could pull and water float ; 
 They looked like persons being led to sentence, 
 
 Wondering what next, till the caique was brought 
 Up in a little creek below a wall 
 O'ertopped with cypresses dark-green and tall. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Here their conductor tapping at the wicket 
 Of a small iron door, 'twas opened, and 
 
 He led them onward, first through a low thicket 
 
 Flank'd by large groves, which tower'd on either hand 
 
 They almost lost their way, and had to pick it — 
 For night was closing ere they came to land. 
 
 The eunuch made a sign to those on board, 
 
 Who rowed off, leaving them without a word. 
 
156 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 As they were plodding on their winding way 
 
 Through orange bowers, and jasmine, and so forth 
 
 (Of which I might have a good deal to say, 
 There being no such profusion in the North 
 
 Of oriental plants, " et cetera, " 
 
 But that of late your scribblers think it worth 
 
 Their while to rear whole hotbeds in their works 
 
 Because one poet travelled 'mongst the Turks :) 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 As they were threading on their way, there came 
 Into Don Juan's head a thought, which he 
 
 Whispered to his companion : — 'twas the same 
 Which might have then occurred to you or me. 
 
 " Methinks," — said he, — " it would be no great shame 
 " If we should strike a stroke to set us free ; 
 
 " Let's knock that old black fellow on the head, 
 
 " And march away — 't were easier done than said." 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 157 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 '* Yes," said the other, " and when done, what then ? 
 
 " How get out ? how the devil got we in ? 
 " And when we once were fairly out, and when 
 
 "From Saint Bartholomew we have saved our skin, 
 " To-morrow 'd see us in some other den, 
 
 <{ And worse off than we hitherto have been ; 
 " Besides, I 'm hungry, and just now would take, 
 " Like Esau, for my birthright a beef-steak. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 " We must be near some place of man's abode ; — 
 " For the old negro's confidence in creeping, 
 
 " With his two captives, by so queer a road, 
 
 " Shows that he thinks his friends have not been 
 sleeping ; 
 
 " A single cry would bring them all abroad : 
 " 'Tis therefore better looking before leaping — 
 
 " And there, you see, this turn has brought us through. 
 
 " By Jove, a noble palace ! — lighted too." 
 
158 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 It was indeed a wide extensive building 
 
 Which opened on their view, and o'er the front 
 
 There seemed to be besprent a deal of gilding 
 And various hues, as is the Turkish wont, — 
 
 A gaudy taste ; for they are little skilled in 
 
 The arts of which these lands were once the font : 
 
 Each villa on the Bosphorus looks a screen 
 
 New painted, or a pretty opera-scene. 
 
 XL VII. 
 
 And nearer as they came, a genial savour 
 Of certain stews, and roast-meats, and pilaus, 
 
 Things which in hungry mortals' eyes find favour, 
 Made Juan in his harsh intentions pause, 
 
 And put himself upon his good behaviour : 
 His friend, too, adding a new saving clause, 
 
 Said, " In Heaven's name let's get some supper now, 
 
 '* And then I'm with you, if you're for a row. 1 ' 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 159 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Some talk of an appeal unto some passion, 
 
 Some to men's feelings, others to their reason ; 
 
 The last of these was never much the fashion, 
 For reason thinks all reasoning out of season. 
 
 Some speakers whine, and others lay the lash on, 
 But more or less continue still to tease on, 
 
 With arguments according to their " forte ; " 
 
 But no one ever dreams of being short. — 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 But I digress : of all appeals, — although 
 I grant the power of pathos, and of gold, 
 
 Of beauty, flattery, threats, a shilling, — no 
 Method 's more sure at moments to take hold 
 
 Of the best feelings of mankind, which grow 
 More tender, as we every day behold, 
 
 Than that all-softening, over-powering knell, 
 
 The tocsin of the soul — the dinner bell. 
 
1G0 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 Turkey contains no bells, and yet men dine ; 
 
 And Juan and his friend, r albeit they heard 
 No christian knoll to table, saw no line 
 
 Of lacqueys usher to the feast prepared, 
 Yet smelt roast-meat, beheld a huge fire shine, 
 
 And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared, 
 And gazed around them to the left and right 
 With the prophetic eye of appetite. 
 
 LI. 
 
 And giving up all notions of resistance, 
 
 They followed close behind their sable guide, 
 
 Who little thought that his own cracked existence 
 Was on the point of being set aside : 
 
 He motioned them to stop at some small distance, 
 And knocking at the gate, 'twas opened wide, 
 
 And a magnificent large hall displayed 
 
 The Asian pomp of Ottoman parade. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 16 1 
 
 LII. 
 
 I won't describe ; description is my forte, 
 But every fool describes in these bright days 
 
 His wond'rous journey to some foreign court, 
 
 And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise — 
 
 Death to his publisher, to him 'tis sport ; 
 
 While Nature, tortured twenty thousand ways, 
 
 Resigns herself with exemplary patience 
 
 To guide-books, rhymes, tours, sketches, illustrations. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Along this hall, and up and down, some, squatted 
 Upon their hams, were occupied at chess; 
 
 Others in monosyllable talk chatted, 
 
 And some seemed much in love with their own dress, 
 
 And divers smoked superb pipes decorated 
 With amber mouths of greater price or less ; 
 
 And several strutted, others slept, and some 
 
 Prepared for supper with a glass of rum. C 5 ) 
 
 M 
 
1(J2 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 As the black eunuch entered with his brace 
 Of purchased Infidels, some raised their eyes 
 
 A moment without slackening from their pace ; 
 But those who sate, ne'er stirred in any wise : 
 
 One or two stared the captives in the face, 
 Just as one views a horse to guess his price ; 
 
 Some nodded to the negro from their station, 
 
 But no one troubled him with conversation. 
 
 LV. 
 
 He leads them through the hall, and, without stopping, 
 On through a farther range of goodly rooms, 
 
 Splendid but silent, save in one, where, dropping, (6) 
 A marble fountain echoes through the glooms 
 
 Of night, which robe the chamber, or where popping 
 Some female head most curiously presumes 
 
 To thrust its black eyes through the door or lattice, 
 
 As wondering what the devil noise that is. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. ] 63 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Some faint lamps gleaming from the lofty walls 
 Gave light enough to hint their farther way, 
 
 But not enough to show the imperial halls 
 In all the flashing of their full array ; 
 
 Perhaps there "'s nothing — I ll not say appals, 
 But saddens more by night as well as day, 
 
 Than an enormous room without a soul 
 
 To break the lifeless splendor of the whole. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Two or three seem so little, one seems nothing : 
 In deserts, forests, crowds, or by the shore, 
 
 There solitude, we know, has her full growth in 
 The spots which were her realms for evermore ; 
 
 But in a mighty hall or gallery, both in 
 
 More modern buildings and those built of yore, 
 
 A kind of death comes o'er us all alone 
 
 Seeing what 's meant for many with but one. 
 
 m2 
 
164 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 A neat, snug study on a winter's night, 
 A book, friend, single lady, or a glass 
 
 Of claret, sandwich, and an appetite, 
 
 Are things which make an English evening pass ; 
 
 Though certes by no means so grand a sight 
 As is a theatre lit up by gas. 
 
 I pass my evenings in long galleries solely, 
 
 And that's the reason I'm so melancholy. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Alas ! man makes that great which makes him little : 
 
 I grant you in a church 'tis very well : 
 What speaks of Heaven should by no means be brittle, 
 
 But strong and lasting, till no tongue can tell 
 Their names who reared it ; but huge houses fit ill — 
 
 And huge tombs worse — mankind, since Adam fell : 
 Methinks the story of the tower of Babel 
 Might teach them this much better than I 'm able. 
 
Canto V. DON JU.AN. 165 
 
 LX. 
 
 Babel was Nimrod's hunting-seat, and then 
 A town of gardens, walls, and wealth amazing, 
 
 Where Nabuchadonosor, king of men, 
 
 Reign'd, till one summer's day he took to grazing, 
 
 And Daniel tamed the lions in their den, 
 The people's awe and admiration raising ; 
 
 'Twas famous, too, for Thisbe and for Pyramus, 
 
 And the calumniated Queen Semiramis. — 
 
 LXI. 
 
 * * 
 
166 DON JUAN. Can 10 V. 
 
 LXIL 
 
 But to resume, — should there be (what may not 
 Be in these days ?) some infidels, who don't, 
 
 Because they can't, find out the very spot 
 Of that same Babel, or because they won't, 
 
 (Though Claudius Rich, Esquire, some bricks has got 
 And written lately two memoirs upon't) 
 
 Believe the Jews, those unbelievers, who 
 
 Must be believed, though they believe not you. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Yet let them think that Horace has exprest 
 Shortly and sweetly the masonic folly 
 
 Of those, forgetting the great place of rest, 
 Who give themselves to architecture wholly ; 
 
 We know where things and men must end at last : 
 A moral (like all morals) melancholy, 
 
 And " Et sepulchri immemor struis domos" 
 
 Shows that we build when we should but entomb us. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 167 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 At last they reached a quarter most retired, 
 Where echo woke as if from a long slumber ; 
 
 Though full of all things which could be desired, 
 One wondered what to do with such a number 
 
 Of articles which nobody required ; 
 
 Here wealth had done its utmost to encumber 
 
 With furniture an exquisite apartment, 
 
 Which puzzled nature much to know what art meant. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 It seemed, however, but to open on 
 
 A range or suit of further chambers, which 
 
 Might lead to heaven knows where ; but in this one 
 The moveables were prodigally rich : 
 
 Sofas 'twas half a sin to sit upon, 
 
 So costly were they ; carpets every stitch 
 
 Of workmanship so rare, they made you wish 
 
 You could glide o'er them like a golden fish. 
 
168 DON JUAN. Canto V 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 The black, however, without hardly deigning 
 
 A glance at that which wrapt the slaves in wonder, 
 
 Trampled what they scarce trod for fear of staining, 
 As if the milky way their feet was under 
 
 With all its stars ; and with a stretch attaining 
 A certain press or cupboard niched in yonder 
 
 In that remote recess which you may see — 
 
 Or if you don't the fault is not in me, 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 I wish to be perspicuous ; and the black, 
 I say, unlocking the recess, pulled forth 
 
 A quantity of clothes fit for the back 
 Of any Mussulman, whate'er his worth ; 
 
 And of variety there was no lack — 
 
 And yet, though I have said there was no dearth ; 
 
 He chose himself to point out what he thought 
 
 Most proper for the Christians he had bought. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 169 
 
 LXVI1I. 
 
 The suit he thought most suitable to each 
 Was, for the elder and the stouter, first 
 
 A candiote cloak, which to the knee might reach, 
 And trowsers not so tight that they would burst, 
 
 But such as fit an Asiatic breech ; 
 
 A shawl, whose folds in Cashmire had been nurst, 
 
 Slippers of saffron, dagger rich and handy ; 
 
 In short, all things which form a Turkish Dandy. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 While he was dressing, Baba, their black friend, 
 Hinted the vast advantages which they 
 
 Might probably obtain both in the end, 
 If they would but pursue the proper way 
 
 Which Fortune plainly seemed to recommend ; 
 And then he added, that he needs must say, 
 
 " 'Twould greatly tend to better their condition, 
 
 " If they would condescend to circumcision. 
 
170 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 " For his own part, he really should rejoice 
 " To see them true believers, but no less 
 
 " Would leave his proposition to their choice." 
 The other, thanking him for this excess 
 
 Of goodness, in thus leaving them a voice 
 In such a trifle, scarcely could express 
 
 " Sufficiently (he said) his approbation 
 
 " Of all the customs of this polished nation. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 " For his own share — he saw but small objection 
 " To so respectable an ancient rite ; 
 
 " And, after swallowing down a slight refection, 
 " For which he owned a present appetite, 
 
 " He doubted not a few hours of reflection 
 " Would reconcile him to the business quite."" 
 
 " Will it ?" said Juan, sharply ; " Strike me dead 
 
 "But they as soon shall circumcise my head ! 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 171 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 " Cut off a thousand heads, before -" — " Now, pray," 
 
 Replied the other, " do not interrupt : 
 " You put me out in what I had to say. 
 
 " Sir ! — as I said, as soon as I have supt, 
 " I shall perpend if your proposal may 
 
 " Be such as I can properly accept ; 
 " Provided always your great goodness still 
 " Remits the matter to our own free-will." 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 Baba eyed Juan, and said " Be so good 
 
 " As dress yourself — " and pointed out a suit 
 
 In which a Princess with greakpleasure would 
 Array her limbs ; but Juan standing mute, 
 
 As not being in a masquerading mood, 
 
 Gave it a slight kick with his christian foot ; 
 
 And when the old negro told him to " Get ready," 
 
 Replied, " Old gentleman, I 'm not a lady." 
 
172 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 u What you may be, I neither know nor care," 
 Said Baba ; " but pray do as I desire: 
 
 " I have no more time nor many words to spare. 1 ' 
 " At least/' said Juan, " sure I may inquire 
 
 " The cause of this odd travesty?" — " Forbear," 
 Said Baba, " to be curious ; 'twill transpire, 
 
 " No doubt, in proper place, and time, and season : 
 
 " I have no authority to tell the reason." 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 " Then if I do," said Juan " I'll be " " Hold !" 
 
 Rejoined the Negro, " pray be not provoking ; 
 
 " This spirit 's well, but it may wax too bold, 
 " And you will find us not too fond of joking." 
 
 " What, sir," said Juan, " shall it e'er be told 
 " That I unsexed my dress ?" But Baba stroking 
 
 The things down, said — " Incense me, and I call 
 
 " Those who will leave you of no sex at all. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 173 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 " I offer you a handsome suit of clothes : 
 
 " A woman's, true ; but then there is a cause 
 
 " Whyyou should wear them." — " What, though my soul 
 loathes 
 " The effeminate garb ?" — thus, after a short pause, 
 
 Sighed Juan, muttering also some slight oaths, 
 " What the devil shall I do with all this gauze ?" 
 
 Thus he profanely termed the finest lace 
 
 Which e'er set off a marriage-morning face. 
 
 LXXVIL 
 
 And then he swore ; and, sighing, on he slipped 
 A pair of trowsers of flesh-coloured silk, 
 
 Next with a virgin zone he was equipped, 
 
 Which girt a slight chemise as white as milk ; 
 
 But tugging on his petticoat he tripped, 
 
 Which — as we say — or as the Scotch say whilJc, 
 
 (The rhyme obliges me to this ; sometimes 
 
 Kings are not more imperative than rhymes) — 
 
174 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Whilk, which (or what you please), was owing to 
 His garment's novelty, and his being awkward ; 
 
 And yet at last he managed to get through 
 His toilet, though no doubt a little backward : 
 
 The negro Baba helped a little too, 
 
 When some untoward part of raiment stuck hard ; 
 
 And, wrestling both his arms into a gown, 
 
 He paused and took a survey up and down. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 One difficulty still remained, — his hair 
 
 Was hardly long enough ; but Baba found 
 
 So many false long tresses all to spare, 
 
 That soon his head was most completely crowned, 
 
 After the manner then in fashion there ; 
 
 And this addition with such gems was bound 
 
 As suited the ensemble of his toilet, 
 
 While Baba made him comb his head and oil it. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 175 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 And now being femininely all arrayed, 
 
 With some small aid from scissars, paint, and tweezers, 
 He looked in almost all respects a maid, 
 
 And Baba smilingly exclaimed " You see, sirs, 
 " A perfect transformation here displayed ; 
 
 66 And now, then, you must come along with me, sirs, 
 " That is — the Lady :*" clapping his hands twice, 
 Four blacks were at his elbow in a trice. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 " You, sir," said Baba, nodding to the one, 
 " Will please to accompany those gentlemen 
 
 " To supper; but you, worthy christian nun, 
 " Will follow me ; no trifling, sir ; for when 
 
 " I say a thing, it must at once be done. 
 
 " What fear you ? think you this a lion's den ? 
 
 " Why, 'tis a palace; where the truly wise 
 
 " Anticipate the Prophet's paradise. 
 
176 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 " You fool ! I tell you no one means you harm. 1 ' 
 " So much the better," Juan said, " for them ; 
 
 " Else they shall feel the weight of this my arm, 
 " Which is not quite so light as you may deem. 
 
 " I yield thus far ; but soon will break the charm 
 " If any take me for that which I seem : 
 
 " So that I trust for every body's sake, 
 
 " That this disguise may lead to no mistake. 1 ' 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 " Blockhead ! come on, and see, 1 ' quoth Baba ; while 
 Don Juan, turning to his comrade, who 
 
 Though somewhat grieved, could scarce forbear a smile 
 Upon the metamorphosis in view, 
 
 " Farewell !" they mutually exclaimed : " this soil 
 " Seems fertile in adventures strange and new ; 
 
 " One's turned half mussulman, and one a maid, 
 
 " By this old black enchanter's unsought aid. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 177 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 " Farewell !" said Juan ; " should we meet no more, 
 " I wish you a good appetite." — " Farewell !" 
 
 Replied the other ; " though it grieves me sore ; 
 " When we next meet, we'll have a tale to tell : 
 
 " We needs must follow when Fate puts from shore. 
 " Keep your good name ; though Eve herself once fell." 
 
 " Nay," quoth the maid, " the Sultan's self shan't carry me, 
 
 " Unless his highness promises to marry me." 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 And thus they parted, each by separate doors ; 
 
 Baba led Juan onward room by room 
 Through glittering galleries, and o'er marble floors, 
 
 Till a gigantic portal through the gloom, 
 Haughty and huge, along the distance towers ; 
 
 And wafted far arose a rich perfume : 
 It seemed as though they came upon a shrine, 
 For all was vast, still, fragrant, and divine. 
 
 N 
 
178 DON JUAN. Canto V- 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 The giant door was broad, and bright, and high, 
 Of gilded bronze, and carved in curious guise ; 
 
 Warriors thereon were battling furiously ; 
 
 Here stalks the victor, there the vanquished lies ; 
 
 There captives led in triumph droop the eye, 
 And in perspective many a squadron flies : 
 
 It seems the work of times before the line 
 
 Of Rome transplanted fell with Constantine. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 This massy portal stood at the wide close 
 Of a huge hall, and on its either side 
 
 Two little dwarfs, the least you could suppose, 
 Were sate, like ugly imps, 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, ( 8 ) 
 
 You never thought about those little creatures, 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 179 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 Until you nearly trod on them, and then x 
 
 You started back in horror to survey 
 
 The wond'rous hideousness of those small men, 
 Whose colour was not black, nor white, nor gray, 
 
 But an extraneous mixture, which no pen 
 Can trace, although perhaps the pencil may ; 
 
 They were misshapen pigmies, deaf and dumb — • 
 
 Monsters, who cost a no less monstrous sum. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 Their duty was — for they were strong, and though 
 They looked so little, did strong things at times — 
 
 To ope this door, which they could really do, 
 The hinges being as smooth as Rogers"' rhymes ; 
 
 And now and then with tough strings of the bow, 
 As is the custom of those eastern climes, 
 
 To give some rebel Pacha a cravat ; 
 
 For mutes are generally used for that. 
 
 n 2 
 
180 
 
 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 xc. 
 
 They spoke by signs — that is, not spoke at all ; 
 
 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, as this pair so small, 
 
 With shrinking serpent optics on him stared ; 
 It was as if their little looks could poison 
 Or fascinate whome'er they fixed their eyes on. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 Before they entered, Baba paused to hint 
 To Jtuan some slight lessons as his guide : 
 
 " If you could just contrive, " he said, " to stint 
 u That somewhat manly majesty of stride, 
 
 " 'T would be as well, and, — (though there 's not much 
 in't) 
 " To swing a little less from side to side, 
 
 " Which has at times an aspect of the oddest ; 
 
 " And also could you look a little modest, 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 181 
 
 XCII. 
 
 f 'T would be convenient; for these mutes have eyes 
 " Like needles, which may pierce those petticoats ; 
 
 " And if they should discover your disguise, 
 
 " You know how near us the deep Bosphorus floats ; 
 
 " And you and I may chance ere morning rise, 
 " To find our way to Marmora without boats, 
 
 " Stitched up in sacks — a mode of navigation 
 
 f * A good deal practised here upon occasion. w 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 With this encouragement, he led the way 
 Into a room still nobler than the last ; 
 
 A rich confusion formed a disarray 
 In such sort, that the eye along it cast 
 
 Could hardly carry any thing away, 
 
 Object on object flashed so bright and fast; 
 
 A dazzling mass of gems, and gold, and glitter, 
 
 Magnificently mingled in a litter. 
 
182 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 Wealth had done wonders — taste not much ; such things 
 
 Occur in orient palaces, and even 
 In the more chastened domes of western kings 
 
 (Of which I have also seen some six or seven) 
 Where I can't say or gold or diamond flings 
 
 Much lustre, there is much to be forgiven ; 
 Groups of bad statues, tables, chairs, and pictures, 
 On which I cannot pause to make my strictures. 
 
 xcv. 
 
 In this imperial hall, at distance lay 
 
 Under a canopy, and there reclined 
 Quite in a confidential queenly way, 
 
 A lady ; Baba stopped, and kneeling signed 
 To Juan, who though not much used to pray, 
 
 Knelt down by instinct, wondering jn his mind 
 What all this meant : while Baba bowed and bended 
 His head, until the ceremony ended. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 183 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 The lady rising up with such an air 
 
 As Venus rose with from the wave, on them 
 
 Bent like an antelope a Paphian pair 
 
 Of eyes, which put out each surrounding gem ; 
 
 And raising up an arm as moonlight fair, 
 She signed to Baba, who first kissed the hem 
 
 Of her deep-purple robe, and speaking low, 
 
 Pointed to Juan, who remained below. 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 Her presence was as lofty as her state ; 
 
 Her beauty of that overpowering kind, 
 Whose force description only would abate : 
 
 I'd rather leave it much to your own mind, 
 Than lessen it by what I could relate 
 
 Of forms and features; it would strike you blind 
 Could I do justice to the full detail ; 
 So, luckily for both, my phrases fail. 
 
184 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 This much however I may add, — her years 
 
 Were ripe, they might make six and twenty springs, 
 
 But there are forms which Time to touch forbears, 
 And turns aside his scythe to vulgar things, 
 
 Such as was Mary's Queen of Scots ; true — tears 
 And love destroy ; and sapping sorrow wrings 
 
 Charms from the charmer, yet some never grow 
 
 Ugly ; for instance — Ninon de l'Enclos. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 She spake some words to her attendants, who 
 Composed a choir of girls, ten or a dozen, 
 
 And were all clad alike ; like Juan, too, 
 Who wore their uniform, by Baba chosen : 
 
 They formed a very nymph-like looking crew, 
 
 Which might have called Diana's chorus " cousin, * 
 
 As far as outward show may correspond ; 
 
 I won't be bail for any thing beyond. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 185 
 
 They bowed obeisance and withdrew, retiring, 
 But not by the same door through which came in 
 
 Baba and Juan, which last stood admiring, 
 At some small distance, all he saw within 
 
 This strange saloon, much fitted for inspiring 
 Marvel and praise ; for both or none things win ; 
 
 And I must say, I ne'er could see the very 
 
 Great happiness of the (t Nil Admirari. " 
 
 CI. 
 
 f* Not to admire is all the art I know 
 
 " (Plain truth, dear Murray, needs few flowers of 
 speech) 
 " To make men happy, or to keep them so ; 
 
 *' (So take it in the very words of Creech)." 
 Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago ; 
 
 And thus Pope quotes the precept to re-teach 
 From his translation ; but had none admired, 
 Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired ? 
 
186 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CII. 
 
 Baba, when all the damsels were withdrawn, 
 Motioned to Juan to approach, and then 
 
 A second time desired him to kneel down, 
 And kiss the lady's foot ; which maxim when 
 
 He heard repeated, Juan with a frown 
 Drew himself up to his full height again, 
 
 And said, " It grieved him, but he could not stoop 
 
 " To any shoe, unless it shod the Pope. " 
 
 CIII. 
 
 Baba, indignant at this ill-timed pride, 
 
 Made fierce remonstrances, and then a threat 
 
 He muttered (but the last was given aside) 
 About a bow-string — quite in vain ; not yet 
 
 Would Juan stoop, though 'twere to Mahomet's bride 
 There's nothing in the world like etiquette 
 
 In kingly chambers or imperial halls, 
 
 As also at the race and county balls. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 187 
 
 CIV. 
 
 He stood like Atlas, with a world of words 
 About his ears, and nathless would not bend ; 
 
 The blood of all his line's Castilian lords 
 Boiled in his veins, and rather than descend 
 
 To stain his pedigree, a thousand swords 
 A thousand times of him had made an end ; 
 
 At length perceiving the "foot " could not stand, 
 
 Baba proposed that he should kiss the hand. 
 
 CV. 
 
 Here was an honourable compromise, 
 
 A half-way house of diplomatic rest, 
 Where they might meet in much more peaceful guise ; 
 
 And Juan now his willingness exprest, 
 To use all fit and proper courtesies, 
 
 Adding, that this was commonest and best, 
 For through the South, the custom still commands 
 The gentleman, to kiss the lady's hands. 
 
188 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CVI. 
 
 And he advanced, though with but a bad grace, 
 Though on more thoroughbred ( 9 ) or fairer fingers 
 
 No lips e'er left their transitory trace : 
 
 On such as these the lip too fondly lingers, 
 
 And for one kiss would fain imprint a brace, 
 As you will see, if she you love shall bring hers 
 
 In contact ; and sometimes even a fair stranger's 
 
 An almost twelvemonth's constancy endangers. 
 
 CVII. 
 
 The lady eyed him o'er and o'er, and bade 
 Baba retire, which he obeyed in style, 
 
 As if well-used to the retreating trade ; 
 
 And taking hints in good part all the while, 
 
 He whispered Juan not to be afraid, 
 
 And looking on him with a sort of smile, 
 
 Took leave, with such a face of satisfaction, 
 
 As good men wear who have done a virtuous action. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 189 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 When he was gone, there was a sudden change : 
 I know not what might be the lady's thought, 
 
 But o'er her bright brow flashed a tumult strange, 
 And into her clear cheek the blood was brought, 
 
 Blood-red as sunset summer clouds which range 
 
 The verge of Heaven ; and in her large eyes wrought 
 
 A mixture of sensations might be scanned, 
 
 Of half-voluptuousness and half command. 
 
 CIX. 
 
 Her form had all the softness of her sex, 
 Her features all the sweetness of the devil, 
 
 When he put on the cherub to perplex 
 
 Eve, and paved (God knows how) the road to evil ; 
 
 The sun himself was scarce more free from specks 
 Than she from aught at which the eye could cavil ; 
 
 Yet, somehow, there was something somewhere wanting, 
 
 As if she rather ordered than was granting. — 
 
190 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 ex. 
 
 Something imperial, or imperious, threw 
 A chain o'er all she did ; that is, a chain 
 
 Was thrown as 'twere about the neck of you, — 
 And rapture's self will seem almost a pain 
 
 With aught which looks like despotism in view : 
 Our souls at least are free, and 'tis in vain 
 
 We would against them make the flesh obey — 
 
 The spirit in the end will have its way. 
 
 CXI. 
 
 Her very smile was haughty, though so sweet ; 
 
 Her very nod was not an inclination ; 
 There was a self-will even in her small feet, 
 
 As though they were quite conscious of her station- 
 They trod as upon necks ; and to complete 
 
 Her state, (it is the custom of her nation,) 
 A poniard decked her girdle, as the sign 
 She was a sultan's bride, (thank Heaven, not mine.) 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 191 
 
 CXII. 
 
 " To hear and to obey" had been from birth 
 
 The law of all around her ; to fulfil 
 All phantasies which yielded ioy or mirth, 
 
 Had been her slaves' chief pleasure, as her will ; 
 Her blood was high, her beauty scarce of earth : 
 
 Judge, then, if her caprices e'er stood still ; 
 Had she but been a Christian, I've a notion 
 We should have found out the " perpetual motion. " 
 
 CXIII. 
 
 Whate'er she saw and coveted was brought ; 
 
 Whate'er she did not see, if she supposed 
 It might be seen, with diligence was sought, 
 
 And when 'twas found straightway the bargain closed 
 There was no end unto the things she bought, 
 
 Nor to the trouble which her fancies caused; 
 Yet even her tyranny had such a grace, 
 The women pardoned all except her face. 
 
192 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 Juan, the latest of her whims, had caught 
 Her eye in passing on his way to sale ; 
 
 She ordered him directly to be bought, 
 
 And Baba, who had ne'er been known to fail 
 
 In any kind of mischief to be wrought, 
 
 Had his instructions where and how to deal : 
 
 She had no prudence, but he had ; and this 
 
 Explains the garb which Juan took amiss. 
 
 cxv. 
 
 His youth and features favoured the disguise, 
 And, should you ask how she, a sultan's bride, 
 
 Could risk or compass such strange phantasies, 
 This I must leave sultanas to decide : 
 
 Emperors are only husbands in wives' eyes, 
 And kings and consorts oft are mystified, 
 
 As we may ascertain with due precision, 
 
 Some by experience, others by tradition. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 193 
 
 CXVI. 
 
 But to the main point, where we have been tending : 
 She now conceived all difficulties past, 
 
 And deemed herself extremely condescending 
 When, being made her property at last, 
 
 Without more preface, in her blue eyes blending 
 Passion and power, a glance on him she cast, 
 
 And merely saying, " Christian, canst thou love ?" 
 
 Conceived that phrase was quite enough to move. 
 
 CXVII. 
 
 And so it was, in proper time and place ; 
 
 But Juan, who had still his mind o'erflowing 
 With HaideVs isle and soft Ionian face, 
 
 Felt the warm blood, which in his face was glowing, 
 Rush back upon his heart, which filled apace, 
 
 And left his cheeks as pale as snowdrops blowing : 
 These words went through his soul like Arab-spears, 
 So that he spoke not, but burst into tears. 
 
194 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 She was a good deal shocked ; not shocked at tears, 
 For women shed and use them at their liking ; 
 
 But there is something when man's eye appears 
 Wet, still more disagreeable and striking: 
 
 A woman's tear-drop melts, a man's half sears, 
 Like molten lead, as if you thrust a pike in 
 
 His heart to force it out, for (to be shorter) 
 
 To them 'tis a relief, to us a torture. 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 And she would have consoled, but knew not how ; 
 
 Having no equals, nothing which had e'er 
 Infected her with sympathy till now, 
 
 And never having dreamt what 'twas to bear 
 Aught of a serious sorrowing kind, although 
 
 There might arise some pouting petty care 
 To cross her brow, she wondered how so near 
 Her eyes another's eye could shed a tear. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 195 
 
 cxx. 
 
 But nature teaches more than power can spoil, 
 And, when a strong although a strange sensation, 
 
 Moves — female hearts are such a genial soil 
 For kinder feelings, whatsoe'er their nation, 
 
 They naturally pour the " wine and oil, " 
 Samaritans in every situation ; 
 
 And thus Gulleyaz, though she knew not why, 
 
 Felt an odd glistening moisture in her eye. 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 But tears must stop like all things else ; and soon 
 Juan, who for an instant had been moved 
 
 To such a sorrow by the intrusive tone 
 
 Of one who dared to ask if u he had loved," 
 
 Called back the stoic to his eyes, which shone 
 Bright with the very weakness he reproved ; 
 
 And although sensitive to beauty, he 
 
 Felt most indignant still at not being free. 
 
 o2 
 
196 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CXXII. 
 
 Gulleyaz, for the first time in her days, 
 Was much embarrassed, never having met 
 
 In all her life with aught save prayers and praise ; 
 And as she also risked her life to get 
 
 Him whom she meant to tutor in love's ways 
 Into a comfortable tete-a-tete, 
 
 To lose the hour would make her quite a martyr, 
 
 And they had wasted now almost a quarter. 
 
 CXXIII. 
 
 I also would suggest the fitting time, 
 To gentlemen in any such like case, 
 
 That is to say — in a meridian clime, 
 
 With us there is more law given to the case, 
 
 But here a small delay forms a great crime: 
 So recollect that the extremest grace 
 
 Is just two minutes for your declaration — 
 
 A moment more would hurt your reputation. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 197 
 
 CXXIV. 
 
 Juan's was good ; and might have been still better, 
 But he had got Haide'e into his head : 
 
 However strange, he could not yet forget her, 
 Which made him seem exceedingly ill-bred. 
 
 Gulleyaz, who looked on him as her debtor 
 For having had him to her palace led, 
 
 Began to blush up to the eyes, and then 
 
 Grow deadly pale, and then blush back again. 
 
 cxxv. 
 
 At length, in an imperial way, she laid 
 Her hand on his, and bending on his eyes, 
 
 Which needed not an empire to persuade, 
 Looked into his for love, where none replies : 
 
 Her brow grew black, but she would not upbraid, 
 That being the last thing a proud woman tries ; 
 
 She rose, and pausing one chaste moment, threw 
 
 Herself upon his breast, and there she grew. 
 
• 
 
 198 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CXXVI. 
 
 This was an awkward test, as Juan found, 
 
 But he was steeled by sorrow, wrath, and pride 
 
 With gentle force her white arms he unwound, 
 And seated her all drooping by his side. 
 
 Then rising haughtily he glanced around, 
 And looking coldly in her face, he cried, 
 
 " The prisoned eagle will not pair, nor I 
 
 " Serve a sultana's sensual phantasy. 
 
 CXXVII. 
 
 " Thou ask'st, if I can love ? be this the proof 
 " How much I have loved — that I love not thee ! 
 
 u In this vile garb, the distaff's web and woof 
 " Were fitter for me : Love is for the free ! 
 
 " I am not dazzled by this splendid roof. 
 
 " Whate'er thy power, and great it seems to be, 
 
 " Heads bow, knees bend, eyes watch around a throne, 
 
 " And hands obey — our hearts are still our own." 
 
4 
 
 Canto V. DON JUAN. 199 
 
 CXXVIII. 
 
 This was a truth to us extremely trite, 
 
 Not so to her, who ne'er had heard such things; 
 
 She deemed her least command must yield delight, 
 Earth being only made for queens and kings. 
 
 If hearts lay on the left side or the right 
 She hardly knew, to such perfection brings 
 
 Legitimacy its born votaries, when 
 
 Aware of their due royal rights o'er men. 
 
 CXXIX. 
 
 Besides, as has been said, she was so fair 
 As even in a much humbler lot had made 
 
 A kingdom or confusion anywhere, 
 
 And also, as may be presumed, she laid 
 
 Some stress upon those charms, which seldom are 
 By the possessors thrown into the shade ; 
 
 She thought hers gave a double " right divine," 
 
 And half of that opinion 's also mine. 
 
200 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 cxxx. 
 
 Remember, or (if you can not) imagine, 
 
 Ye ! who have kept your chastity when young, 
 
 While some more desperate dowager has been waging 
 Love with you, and been in the dog-days stung 
 
 By your refusal, recollect her raging ! 
 Or recollect all that was said or sung 
 
 On such a subject; then suppose the face 
 
 Of a young downright beauty in this case. 
 
 CXXXI. 
 
 Suppose, but you already have supposed, 
 The spouse of Potiphar, the Lady Booby, 
 
 Phedra, and all which story has disclosed 
 Of good examples ; pity that so few by 
 
 Poets and private tutors are exposed, 
 
 To educate — ye youth of Europe — you by ! 
 
 But when you have supposed the few we know, 
 
 You can't suppose Gulleyaz , angry brow. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. - 201 
 
 CXXXII. 
 
 A tigress robbed of young, a lioness, 
 
 Or any interesting beast of prey, 
 Are similes at hand for the distress 
 
 Of ladies who cannot have their own way; 
 But though my turn will not be served with less, 
 
 These don't express one half what I should say : 
 For what is stealing young ones, few or many, 
 To cutting short their hopes of having any ? 
 
 CXXXIII. 
 
 The love of offspring's nature's general law, 
 
 From tigresses and cubs to ducks and ducklings ; 
 
 There's nothing whets the beak or arms the claw 
 Like an invasion of their babes and sucklings ; 
 
 And all who have seen a human nursery, saw 
 
 How mothers love their children's squalls and chucklings ; 
 
 And this strong extreme effect (to tire no longer 
 
 Your patience) shows the cause must still be stronger. 
 
202 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CXXXIV. 
 
 If I said fire flashed from Gulleyaz' eyes, 
 
 'Twere nothing — for her eyes flashed always fire ; 
 
 Or said her cheeks assumed the deepest dyes, 
 I should but bring disgrace upon the dyer, 
 
 So supernatural was her passion's rise ; 
 
 For ne'er till now she knew a checked desire : 
 
 Even ye who know what a checked woman is 
 
 (Enough, God knows !) would much fall short of this. 
 
 cxxxv. 
 
 Her rage was but a minute's, and 'twas well — 
 A moment's more had slain her; but the while 
 
 It lasted 'twas like a short glimpse of hell : 
 Nought's more sublime than energetic bile, 
 
 Though horrible to see yet grand to tell, 
 Like ocean warring 'gainst a rocky isle ; 
 
 And the deep passions flashing through her form 
 
 Made her a beautiful embodied storm. 
 
Can in V. DON JUAN. 203 
 
 CXXXVI. 
 
 A vulgar tempest 'twere to a Typhoon 
 To match a common fury with her rage, 
 
 And yet she did not want to reach the moon, 
 Like moderate Hotspur on the immortal page ; 
 
 Her anger pitched into a lower tune, 
 
 Perhaps the fault of her soft sex and age — 
 
 Her wish was but to " kill, kill, kill," like Lear's, 
 
 And then her thirst of blood was quenched in tears. 
 
 CXXXVII. 
 
 A storm it raged, and like the storm it passed, 
 
 Passed without words — in fact she could not speak ; 
 
 And then her sex's shame broke in at last, 
 A sentiment till then in her but weak, 
 
 But now it flowed in natural and fast, 
 As water through an unexpected leak, 
 
 For she felt humbled — and humiliation 
 
 Is sometimes good for people in her station. 
 
204 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CXXXVIII. 
 
 It teaches them that they are flesh and blood, 
 It also gently hints to them that others, 
 
 Although of clay, are yet not quite of mud ; 
 That urns and pipkins are but fragile brothers, 
 
 And works of the same pottery, bad or good, 
 
 Though not all born of the same sires and mothers : 
 
 It teaches — Heaven knows only what it teaches, 
 
 But sometimes it may mend, and often reaches. 
 
 CXXXIX. 
 
 Her first thought was to cut off Juan's head ; 
 
 Her second, to cut only his — acquaintance ; 
 Her third, to ask him where he had been bred ; 
 
 Her fourth, to rally him into repentance ; 
 Her fifth, to call her maids and go to bed ; 
 
 Her sixth, to stab herself; her seventh, to sentence 
 The lash to Baba : — but her grand resource 
 Was to sit down again, and cry of course. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 205 
 
 CXL. 
 
 She thought to stab herself, but then she had 
 
 The dagger close at hand, which made it awkward ; 
 
 For eastern stays are little made to pad, 
 So that a poniard pierces if 'tis stuck hard : 
 
 She thought of killing Juan — but, poor lad ! 
 
 Though he deserved it well for being so backward, 
 
 The cutting off' his head was not the art 
 
 Most likely to attain her aim — his heart. 
 
 CXLI. 
 
 Juan was moved : he had made up his mind 
 To be impaled, or quartered as a dish 
 
 For dogs, or to be slain with pangs refined, 
 Or thrown to lions, or made baits for fish, 
 
 And thus heroically stood resigned, 
 
 Rather than sin — except to his own wish : 
 
 But all his great preparatives for dying 
 
 Dissolved like snow before a woman crying. 
 
206 DOM JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CXLII. 
 
 As through his palms Bob Acres' valour oozed, 
 So Juan's virtue ebbed, I know not how ; 
 
 And first he wondered why he had refused ; 
 And then, if matters could be made up now ; 
 
 And next his savage virtue he accused, 
 Just as a friar may accuse his vow, 
 
 Or as a dame repents her of her oath, 
 
 Which mostly ends in some small breach of both. 
 
 CXLIII. 
 
 So he began to stammer some excuses ; 
 
 But words are not enough in such a matter, 
 Although you borrowed all that e'er the muses 
 
 Have sung, or even a Dandy's dandiest chatter, 
 Or all the figures Castlereagh abuses ; 
 
 Just as a languid smile began to flatter 
 His peace was making, but before he ventured 
 Further, old Baba rather briskly entered. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 207 
 
 CXLIV. 
 
 " Bride of the Sun ! and Sister of the Moon !" 
 
 ('Twas thus he spake,) " and Empress of the Earth ! 
 
 " Whose frown would put the spheres all out of tune, 
 " Whose smile makes all the planets dance with mirth, 
 
 " Your slave brings tidings — he hopes not too soon — 
 " Which your sublime attention may be worth : 
 
 " The Sun himself has sent me like a ray 
 
 " To hint that he is coming up this way." 
 
 CXLV. 
 
 " Is it," exclaimed Gulleyaz, " as you say ? 
 
 " I wish to heaven he would not shine till morning ! 
 " But bid my women form the milky way. 
 
 " Hence, my old comet ! give the stars due warning- 
 " And, christian ! mingle with them as you may, 
 
 " And as you'd have me pardon your past scorning — — 
 Here they were interrupted by a humming 
 Sound, and then by a cry, iS the sultan's coming!" 
 
208 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CXLVI. 
 
 First came her damsels, a decorous file, 
 
 And then his Highness' eunuchs, black and white ; 
 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, especially at night ; 
 For being the last wife of the emperor, 
 She was of course the favourite of the four. 
 
 CXLVII. 
 
 His highness was a man of solemn port, 
 
 Shawled to the nose, and bearded to the eyes, 
 
 Snatched from a prison to preside at court, 
 His lately bowstrung brother caused his rise ; 
 
 He was as good a sovereign of the sort 
 As any mentioned in the histories . 
 
 Of Cantemir, or Knolles, where few shine 
 
 Save Solyman, the glory of their line. (10) 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. . 209 
 
 CXLVIII. 
 
 He went to mosque in state, and said his prayers 
 With more than " Oriental scrupulosity ;" 
 
 He left to his vizier all state affairs, 
 And showed but little royal curiosity : 
 
 I know not if he had domestic cares — 
 No process proved connubial animosity ; 
 
 Four wives and twice five hundred maids, unseen, 
 
 Were ruled as calmly as a christian queen. 
 
 CXLIX. 
 
 If now and then there happened a slight slip, 
 Little was heard of criminal or crime ; 
 
 The story scarcely passed a single lip— 
 The sack and sea had settled all in time, 
 
 From which the secret nobody could rip : 
 
 The Public knew no more than does this rhyme ; 
 
 No scandals made the daily press a curse — 
 
 Morals were better, and the fish no worse. 
 
 p 
 
210 DON JUAN. Can 10 V 
 
 CL. 
 
 He saw with his own eyes the moon was round, 
 Was also certain that the earth was square, 
 
 Because he had journeyed fifty miles and found 
 No sign that it was circular any where ; 
 
 His empire also was without a bound : 
 'Tis true, a little troubled here and there, 
 
 By rebel pachas, and encroaching giaours, 
 
 But then they never came to " the Seven Towers ;' 
 
 CLL 
 
 Except in shape of envoys, who were sent 
 
 To lodge there when a war broke out, according 
 
 To the true law of nations, which ne'er meant 
 
 Those scoundrels, who have never had a sword in 
 
 Their dirty diplomatic hands, to vent 
 
 Their spleen in making strife, and safely wording 
 
 Their lies, ycleped despatches, without risk or 
 
 The singeing of a single inky whisker. 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 211 
 
 CLII. 
 
 He had fifty daughters and four dozen sons, 
 Of whom all such as came of age were stowed, 
 
 The former in a palace, where like nuns 
 
 They lived till some Bashaw was sent abroad, 
 
 When she, whose turn it was, wedded at once, 
 
 Sometimes at six years old — though this seems odd, 
 
 'Tis true ; the reason is, that the Bashaw 
 
 Must make a present to his sire in law. 
 
 CLIII. 
 
 His sons were kept in prison, till they grew 
 Of years to fill a bowstring or the throne, 
 
 One or the other, but which of the two 
 Could yet be known unto the fates alone ; 
 
 Meantime the education they went through 
 
 Was princely, as the proofs have always shown : 
 
 So that the heir apparent still was found 
 
 No less deserving to be hanged than crowned. 
 
 p 2 
 
212 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CLIV. 
 
 His Majesty saluted his fourth spouse 
 
 With all the ceremonies of his rank, 
 Who cleared her sparkling eyes and smoothed her brows, 
 
 As suits a matron who has played a prank ; 
 These must seem doubly mindful of their vows, 
 
 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. 
 
 CLV. 
 
 His Highness cast around his great black eyes, 
 And looking, as he always looked, perceived 
 
 Juan amongst the damsels in disguise, 
 
 At which he seemed no whit surprised nor grieved, 
 
 But just remarked with air sedate and wise 
 While still a fluttering sigh Gulleyaz heaved, 
 
 " I see you've bought another girl ; 'tis pity 
 
 " That a mere christian should be half so pretty. 11 
 
Canto V. DON JUAN. 213 
 
 CLVI. 
 
 This compliment, which drew all eyes upon 
 
 The new-bought virgin, made her blush and shake. 
 
 Her comrades, also, thought themselves undone : 
 Oh ! Mahomet! that his Majesty should take 
 
 Such notice of a giaour, while scarce to one 
 Of them his lips imperial ever spake ! 
 
 There was a general whisper, toss, and wriggle, 
 
 But etiquette forbade them all to giggle. 
 
 CLVII. 
 
 The Turks do well to shut — at least, sometimes — 
 The women up — because in sad reality, 
 
 Their chastity in these unhappy climes 
 Is not a thing of that astringent quality, 
 
 Which in the north prevents precarious crimes, 
 And makes our snow less pure than our morality ; 
 
 The sun, which yearly melts the polar ice, 
 
 Has quite the contrary effect on vice. 
 
214 DON JUAN. Canto V. 
 
 CLVIII. 
 
 Thus far our chronicle ; and now we pause, 
 Though not for want of matter ; but "'tis time, 
 
 According to the ancient epic laws, 
 
 To slacken sail, and anchor with our rhyme. 
 
 Let this fifth canto meet with due applause, 
 The sixth shall have a touch of the sublime ; 
 
 Meanwhile, as Homer sometimes sleeps, perhaps 
 
 You '11 pardon to my muse a few short naps. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO V. 
 
 Note 1, page 136, line 10. 
 The ocean stream. 
 This expression of Homer has been much criticised. It 
 hardly answers to our atlantic ideas of the ocean, but is suf- 
 ficiently applicable to the Hellespont, and the Bosphorus, with 
 the iEgean intersected with islands. 
 
 Note 2, page 137, line 11. 
 " The Giant's Grave." 
 " The Giant's Grave" is a height on the Adriatic shore 
 of the Bosphorus, much frequented by holiday parties : like 
 Harrow and Highgate. 
 
 Note 3, page 151, line 14. 
 And running out as fast as I was able. 
 The assassination alluded to took place on the eighth of 
 
 December, 1820, in the streets of R , not a hundred paces 
 
 from the residence of the writer. The circumstances were 
 as described. 
 
 Note 4, page 152, line 8. 
 Killed by Jive bullets from an old gun barrel. 
 There was found close by him an old gun barrel, sawn half 
 off: it had just been discharged, and was still warm. 
 
216 NOTES TO CANTO V. 
 
 Note 5, page l6l, last line. 
 Prepared for supper with a glass of rum. 
 In Turkey nothing is more common than for the Mussul- 
 mans to take several glasses of strong spirits by way of ap- 
 petizer. I have seen them take as many as six of raki before 
 dinner, and swear that they dined the better for it : I tried 
 the experiment, but was like the Scotchman, who having heard 
 that the birds called kittiewiaks were admirable whets, ate six 
 of them, and complained that " he was no hungrier than when 
 he began." 
 
 Note 6, page 162, lines 11 and 12. 
 Splendid but silent, save in one, where, dropping, 
 A marble fountain echoes. 
 A common furniture. — I recollect being received by Ali 
 Pacha, in a room containing a marble basin and fountain, &c. 
 &c. &c 
 
 Note 8, page 178, line 15. 
 The gate so splendid was in all its features. 
 Features of a gate — a ministerial metaphor ; " the feature 
 upon which this question hinges." — See the "Fudge Family,'' 
 or hear Castlereagh. 
 
 Note 9, page 188, line 2. 
 Though on more thorough-bred or fairer fingers. 
 There is perhaps nothing more distinctive of birth than the 
 hand: it is almost the only sign of blood which aristocracy 
 can generate. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO V. 217 
 
 Note 10, page 208, last line. 
 Save Solyman, the glory of their line. 
 
 It may not be unworthy of remark, that Bacon, in his essay 
 on " Empire," hints that Solyman was the last of his line ; 
 on what authority, I know not. These are his words : " The 
 destruction of Mustapha was so fatal to Solyman's line, as 
 the succession of the Turks from Solyman, until this day, is 
 suspected to be untrue, and of strange blood ; for that Solymus 
 the second was thought to be suppositious. " But Bacon, in 
 his historical authorities, is often inaccurate. I could give half 
 a dozen instances from his apophthegms only. 
 
 Being in the humour of criticism, I shall proceed, after 
 having ventured upon the slips of Bacon, to touch on one or two 
 as trifling in the edition of the British Poets, by the justly 
 celebrated Campbell. — But I do this in good will, and trust 
 it will be so taken. — If any thing could add to my opinion of 
 the talents and true feeling of that gentleman, it would be his 
 classical, honest, and triumphant defence of Pope, against the 
 vulgar cant of the day, and its existing Grub-street. 
 
 The inadvertencies to which I allude are, — 
 
 Firstly, in speaking of Anstey, whom he accuses of having 
 taken " his leading characters from Smollett" Anstey 's 
 Bath Guide was published in 1766. Smollett's Humphry 
 Clinker (the only work of Smollett's from which Tabitha, &c. 
 &c. could have been taken) was written during Smollett's last 
 residence at Leghorn in 1 770. — " Argal," if there has been 
 any borrowing, Anstey must be the creditor, and not the debtor* 
 I refer Mr. Campbell to his own data in his lives of Smollett 
 and Anstey. 
 
218 NOTES TO CANTO V. 
 
 Secondly, Mr. Campbell says in the life of Cowper (note 
 to page 358, vol. 7-) that " he knows not to whom Cowper 
 alludes in these lines : 
 
 " Nor he who, for the bane of thousands born, 
 
 " Built God a church, and laugh'd his word to scorn.'' 
 
 The Calvinist meant Voltaire, and the church of Ferney, 
 with its inscription " Deo erexit Voltaire." 
 
 Thirdly, in the life of Burns, Mr. C. quotes -Shakspeare 
 thus, — 
 
 " To gild refined gold, to paint the rose, 
 '' Or add fresh perfume to the violet.'' 
 
 This version by no means improves the original, which is as 
 follows : 
 
 " To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
 " To throw a perfume on the violet," &c. 
 
 King John. 
 
 A great poet quoting another should be correct j he should 
 also be accurate, when he accuses a Parnassian brother of that 
 dangerous charge "borrowing :" a poet had better borrow any 
 thing {excepting money) than the thoughts of another — they 
 are always sure to be reclaimed; but it is very hard having 
 been the lender, to be denounced as the debtor, as is the case 
 of Anstey versus Smollett. 
 
 As there is " honour amongst thieves," let there be some 
 amongst poets, and give each his due, — none can afford to give 
 it more than Mr. Campbell himself, who with a high reputa- 
 tion for originality, and a fame which cannot be shaken, is 
 the only poet of the times (except Rogers), who can be re- 
 proached (and in him it is indeed a reproach) with having 
 written too little. 
 
 END OF CANTO -V. 
 
L.