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 Class of 1913 
 
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DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTOS XV. AND XVI. 
 
 " Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more 
 Cakes and Ale ?" — w Yes, by St. Anne ; and Ginger shall be hot i' the 
 mouth too!"— Twelfth Night, or What you Will. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 LONDON, 1824: 
 PRINTED FOR JOHN AND H. L. HUNT, 
 
 TAVISTOCK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY C. H. REYNELL, BROAD STREET, GOLDEN SQUARE. 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO XV. 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO XV. 
 
 I. 
 
 Ah ! What should follow slips from my reflection 
 
 Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be 
 
 As apropos of hope or retrospection, 
 
 As though the lurking thought had followed free. 
 
 All present life is but an Interjection, 
 An " Oh !" or " Ah !" of joy or misery, 
 
 Or a " Ha ! ha !" or " Bah !"— a yawn, or " Pooh !" 
 
 Of which perhaps the latter is most true. 
 
b DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 II. 
 
 But, more or less, the whole's a syncope 
 
 Or a singultus — emblems of Emotion, 
 The grand Antithesis to great Ennui, 
 
 Wherewith we break our bubbles on the ocean, 
 That Watery Outline of Eternity, 
 
 Or miniature at least, as is my notion, 
 Which ministers unto the soul's delight, 
 In seeing matters which are out of sight. 
 
 III. 
 
 But all are better than the sigh supprest, 
 
 Corroding in the cavern of the heart, 
 Making the countenance a masque of rest, 
 
 And turning human nature to an art. 
 Few men dare show their thoughts of worst or best ; 
 
 Dissimulation always sets apart 
 A corner for herself; and therefore Fiction 
 Is that which passes with least contradiction. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ah ! who can tell ? Or rather, who can not 
 Remember, without telling, passion's errors ? 
 
 The drainer of oblivion, even the sot, 
 
 Hath got blue devils for his morning mirrors : 
 
 What though on Lethe's stream he seem to float, 
 He cannot sink his tremors or his terrors ; 
 
 The ruby glass that shakes within his hand, 
 
 Leaves a sad sediment of Time's worst sand. 
 
 V. 
 
 And as for Love — Oh, Love ! We will proceed. 
 
 The Lady Adeline Amundeville, 
 A pretty name as one would wish to read, 
 
 Must perch harmonious on my tuneful quill. 
 There's music in the sighing of a reed ; 
 
 There's music in the gushing of a rill ; 
 There's music in all things, if men had ears : 
 Their Earth is but an echo of the spheres. 
 
8 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Lady Adeline, right honourable, 
 
 And honour'd, ran a risk of growing less so ; 
 
 For few of the soft sex are very stable 
 
 In their resolves — alas ! that I should say so ! 
 
 They differ as wine differs from its label, 
 
 When once decanted ;- — I presume to guess so, 
 
 But will not swear : yet both upon occasion, 
 
 Till old, may undergo adulteration. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But Adeline was of the purest vintage, 
 
 The unmingled essence of the grape ; and yet 
 
 Bright as a new Napoleon from its mintage, 
 Or glorious as a diamond richly set ; 
 
 A page where Time should hesitate to print age, 
 And for which Nature might forego her debt — 
 
 Sole creditor whose process doth involve in't 
 
 The luck of finding every body solvent. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. U 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Oh, Death ! thou dunnest of all duns ! thou daily 
 Knockest at doors, at first with modest tap, 
 
 Like a meek tradesman when approaching palely 
 Some splendid debtor he would take by sap : 
 
 But oft denied, as patience 'gins to fail, he 
 Advances with exasperated rap, 
 
 And (if let in) insists, in terms unhandsome, 
 
 On ready money or a draft on Ransom. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Whate'er thou takest, spare awhile poor Beauty ! 
 
 She is so rare, and thou hast so much prey. 
 What though she now and then may slip from duty, 
 
 The more's the reason why you ought to stay. 
 Gaunt Gourmand ! with whole nations for your booty, 
 
 You should be civil in a modest way : 
 Suppress then some slight feminine diseases, 
 And take as many heroes as Heaven pleases. 
 
10 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 X. 
 
 Fair Adeline, the more ingenuous 
 
 Where she was interested (as was said) 
 
 Because she was not apt, like some of us, 
 To like too readily, or too high bred 
 
 To show it — (points we need not now discuss) — 
 Would give up artlessly both heart and head 
 
 Unto such feelings as seem'd innocent, 
 
 For objects worthy of the sentiment. 
 
 XI. 
 Some parts of Juan's history, which Rumour, 
 
 That live Gazette, had scatter'd to disfigure, 
 She had heard ; but women hear with more good humour 
 
 Such aberrations than we men of rigour. 
 Besides, his conduct, since in England, grew more 
 
 Strict, and his mind assumed a manlier vigour; 
 Because he had, like Alcibiades, 
 The art of living in all climes with ease. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 1 1 
 
 XII. 
 
 His manner was perhaps the more seductive, 
 Because he ne'er seem'd anxious to seduce ; 
 
 Nothing affected, studied, or constructive 
 Of coxcombry or conquest : no abuse 
 
 Of his attractions marr'd the fair perspective, 
 To indicate a Cupidon broke loose, 
 
 And seem to say, " resist us if you can" — 
 
 Which makes a dandy while it spoils a man. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 They are wrong — that's not the way to set about it ; 
 
 As, if they told the truth, could well be shown. 
 But right or wrong, Don Juan was without it ; 
 
 In fact, his manner was his own alone : 
 Sincere he was — at least you could not doubt it, 
 
 In listening merely to his voice's tone. 
 The Devil hath not in all his quiver's choice 
 An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice. 
 
12 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 By Nature soft, his whole address held off 
 Suspicion : though not timid, his regard 
 
 Was such as rather seem'd to keep aloof, 
 
 To shield himself, than put you on your guard : 
 
 Perhaps 'twas hardly quite assured enough, 
 But Modesty's at times its own reward, 
 
 Like Virtue ; and the absence of pretension 
 
 Will go much further than there's need to mention. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Serene, accomplish'd, cheerful but not loud ; 
 
 Insinuating without insinuation ; 
 Observant of the foibles of the crowd, 
 
 Yet ne'er betraying this in conversation ; 
 Proud with the proud, yet courteously proud, 
 
 So as to make them feel he knew his station 
 And theirs : — without a struggle for priority, 
 He neither brook'd nor claim'd superiority. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 13 
 
 XVI. 
 
 That is, with men : with women he was what 
 They pleased to make or take him for ; and their 
 
 Imagination's quite enough for that : 
 So that the outline's tolerably fair, 
 
 They fill the canvass up — and " verbum sat." 
 If once their phantasies be brought to bear 
 
 Upon an object, whether sad or playful, 
 
 They can transfigure brighter than a Raphael. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 A deline, nodeep judge of character, 
 
 Was apt to add a colouring from her own. 
 Tis thus the good will amiably err, 
 
 And eke the wise, as has been often shown. 
 Experience is the chief philosopher, 
 
 But saddest when his science is well known : 
 And persecuted sages teach the schools 
 Their folly in forgetting there are fools. 
 
14 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Was it not so, great Locke ? and greater Bacon ? 
 
 Great Socrates ? And thou Diviner still, ( ] ) 
 Whose lot it is by man to be mistaken, 
 
 And thy pure creed made sanction of all ill ? 
 Redeeming worlds to be by bigots shaken, 
 
 How was thy toil rewarded ? We might fill 
 Volumes with similar sad illustrations, 
 But leave them to the conscience of the nations. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 I perch upon an humbler promontory, 
 
 Amidst life's infinite variety : 
 With no great care for what is nicknamed glory, 
 
 But speculating as I cast mine eye 
 On what may suit or may not suit my story, 
 
 And never straining hard to versify, 
 I rattle on exactly as I'd talk 
 With any body in a ride or walk. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. ] 5 
 
 XX. 
 
 I don't know that there may be much ability 
 Shown in this sort of desultory rhyme ; 
 
 But there's a conversational facility, 
 
 Which may round off an hour upon a time. 
 
 Of this I'm sure at least, there's no servility 
 In mine irregularity of chime, 
 
 Which rings what's uppermost of new or hoary, 
 
 Just as I feel the " Improvisatore." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " Omnia vult belle Matho dicere — die aliquando 
 " Et bene, die neutrum, die aliquando male." 
 
 The first is rather more than mortal can do ; 
 The second may be sadly done or gaily ; 
 
 The third is still more difficult to stand to ; 
 
 The fourth we hear, and see, and say too, daily : 
 
 The whole together is what I could wish 
 
 To serve in this conundrum of a dish. 
 
16 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 A modest hope — but modesty's my forte, 
 And pride my feeble : — let us ramble on. 
 
 I meant to make this poem very short, 
 But now I can't tell where it may not run. 
 
 No doubt, if I had wish'd to pay my court 
 To critics, or to hail the setting sun 
 
 Of tyranny of all kinds, my concision 
 
 Were more ; — but I was born for opposition. 
 
 XXIII. 
 But then 'tis mostly on the weaker side : 
 
 So that I verily believe if they 
 Who now are basking in their full-blown pride, 
 
 Were shaken down, and " dogs had had their day," 
 Though at the first I might perchance deride 
 
 Their tumble, I should turn the other way, 
 And wax an Ultra-royalist in loyalty, 
 Because I hate even democratic royalty. 
 
Canto XV. DON HJAN. 1 7 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 I think I should have made a decent spouse, 
 If I had never proved the soft condition ; 
 
 I think I should have made monastic vows, 
 But for my own peculiar superstition : 
 
 'Gainst rhyme I never should have knock'd my brows, 
 Nor broken my own head, nor that of Priscian, 
 
 Nor worn the motley mantle of a poet, 
 
 If some one had not told me to forego it. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 But " laissez aller" — knights and dames I sing, 
 Such as the times may furnish. 'Tis a flight 
 
 Which seems at first to need no lofty wing, 
 Plumed by Longinus or the Stagyrite : 
 
 The difficulty lies in colouring 
 
 (Keeping the due proportions still in sight) 
 
 With Nature manners which are artificial, 
 
 And rend'ring general that which is especial. 
 
1 8 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The difference is, that in the days of old 
 
 Men made the manners ; manners now make men — 
 Pinned like a flock; and fleeced too in their fold, 
 
 At least nine, and a ninth beside of ten. 
 Now this at all events must render cold 
 
 Your writers, who must either draw again 
 Days better drawn before, or else assume 
 The present, with their common-place costume. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 We'll do our best to make the best on't : — March ! 
 
 March, my Muse ! If you cannot fly, yet flutter ; 
 And when you may not be sublime, be arch, 
 
 Or starch, as are the edicts statesmen utter. 
 We surely shall find something worth research : 
 
 Columbus found a new world in a cutter, 
 Or brigantine, or pink, of no great tonnage, 
 While yet America was in her non-age. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 19 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 When Adeline, in all her growing sense 
 
 Of Juan's merits and his situation, 
 Felt on the whole an interest intense — 
 
 Partly perhaps because a fresh sensation, 
 Or that he had an air of innocence, 
 
 Which is for innocence a sad temptation, — 
 As women hate half measures, on the whole, 
 She 'gan to ponder how to save his soul. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 She had a good opinion of advice, 
 
 Like all who give and eke receive it gratis, 
 
 For which small thanks are still the market price, 
 Even where the article at highest rate is. 
 
 She thought upon the subject twice or thrice, 
 And morally decided, the best state is 
 
 For morals, marriage ; and this question carried, 
 
 She seriously advised him to get married. 
 
20 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Juan replied, with all becoming deference, 
 
 He had a predilection for that tie ; 
 But that at present, with immediate reference 
 
 To his own circumstances, there might lie 
 Some difficulties, as in his own preference, 
 
 Or that of her to whom he might apply ; 
 That still he'd wed with such or such a lady, 
 If that they were not married all already. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Next to the making matches for herself, 
 
 And daughters, brothers, sisters, kith or kin, 
 
 Arranging them like books on the same shelf, 
 There's nothing women love to dabble in 
 
 More (like a stock-holder in growing pelf) 
 Than match-making in general : 'tis no sin 
 
 Certes, but a preventative, and therefore 
 
 That is, no doubt, the only reason wherefore. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 2 1 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 / 
 
 But never yet (except of course a miss 
 
 Unwed, or mistress never to be wed, 
 Or wed already, who object to this) 
 
 Was there chaste dame who had not in her head 
 Some drama of the marriage unities, 
 
 Observed as strictly both at board and bed, 
 As those of Aristotle, though sometimes 
 They turn out melodrames or pantomimes. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 They generally have some only son, 
 
 Some heir to a large property, some friend 
 
 Of an old family, some gay Sir John, 
 
 Or grave Lord George, with whom perhaps might end 
 
 A line, and leave posterity undone, 
 
 Unless a marriage was applied to mend 
 
 The prospect and their morals : and besides, 
 
 They have at hand a blooming glut of brides. 
 
22 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 From these they will be careful to select, 
 For this an heiress, and for that a beauty ; 
 
 For one a songstress who hath no defect, 
 For t'other one who promises much duty ; 
 
 For this a lady no one can reject, 
 
 Whose sole accomplishments were quite a booty ; 
 
 A second for her excellent connexions ; 
 
 A third, because there can be no objections. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 When Rapp the Harmonist embargoed marriage ( 2 ) 
 In his harmonious settlement — (which flourishes 
 
 Strangely enough as yet without miscarriage, 
 
 Because it breeds no more mouths than it nourishes, 
 
 Without those sad expenses which disparage 
 What Nature naturally most encourages) — 
 
 Why call'd he " Harmony" a state sans wedlock ? 
 
 Now here I have got the preacher at a dead lock. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 23 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Because he either meant to sneer at harmony 
 Or marriage, by divorcing them thus oddly. 
 
 But whether reverend Rapp learn'd this in Germany 
 Or no, 'tis said his sect is rich and godly, 
 
 Pious and pure, beyond what I can term any 
 Of ours, although they propagate more broadly. 
 
 My objection's to his title, not his ritual, 
 
 Although I wonder how it grew habitual. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 But Rapp is the reverse of zealous matrons, 
 Who favour, malgre Malthus, generation — 
 
 Professors of that genial art, and patrons 
 Of all the modest part of propagation, 
 
 Which after all at such a desperate rate runs, 
 That half its produce tends to emigration, 
 
 That sad result of passions and potatoes — 
 
 Two weeds which pose our economic Catos. 
 
24 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Had Adeline read Malthus ? I can't tell ; 
 
 I wish she had : his book's the eleventh commandment, 
 Which says, " thou shalt not marry/' unless well:. 
 
 This he (as far as I can understand) meant : 
 'Tis not my purpose on his views to dwell, 
 
 Nor canvass what " so eminent a hand" meant ; ( 3 ) 
 But certes it conducts to lives ascetic, 
 Or turning marriage into arithmetic. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 But Adeline, who probably presumed 
 That Juan had enough of maintenance, 
 
 Or separate maintenance, in case 'twas doom'd — 
 As on the whole it is an even chance 
 
 That bridegrooms, after they are fairly groom'd, 
 May retrograde a little in the dance 
 
 Of marriage — (which might form a painter's fame, 
 
 Like Holbein's "Dance of Death" — but 'tis the same) ; — 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 25 
 
 XL. 
 
 But Adeline determined Juan's wedding 
 
 In her own mind, and that's enough for woman. 
 But then, with whom ? There was the sage Miss Reading, 
 
 Miss Raw, Miss Flaw, Miss Showman, and Miss 
 Knowman, 
 And the two fair co-heiresses Giltbedding. 
 
 She deemed his merits something more than common : 
 All these were unobjectionable matches, 
 And might go on, if well wound up, like watches. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 There was Miss Millpond, smooth as summer's sea, 
 That usual paragon, an only daughter, 
 
 Who seem'd the cream of equanimity, 
 Till skimm'd — and then there was some milk and water, 
 
 With a slight shade of Blue too it might be, 
 Beneath the surface ; but what did it matter ? 
 
 Love's riotous, but marriage should have quiet, 
 
 And being consumptive, live on a milk diet. 
 
26 DON JUAN. Canio XV. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 And then there was the Miss Audacia Shoestring, 
 
 A dashing demoiselle of good estate, 
 Whose heart was fix'd upon a star or bluestring ; 
 
 But whether English Dukes grew rare of late, 
 Or that she had not harp'd upon the true string, 
 
 By which such sirens can attract our great, 
 She took up with some foreign younger brother, 
 A Russ or Turk — the one's as good as t'other. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 And then there was — but why should I go on, 
 Unless the ladies should go off? — there was 
 
 Indeed a certain fair and fairy one, 
 
 Of the best class, and better than her class, — 
 
 Aurora Raby, a young star who shone 
 
 O'er life, too sweet an image for such glass, 
 
 A lovely being, scarcely form'd or moulded, 
 
 A Rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded ; 
 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 27 
 
 XL1V. 
 
 Rich, noble, but an orphan ; left an only 
 
 Child to the care of guardians good and kind ; 
 
 But still her aspect had an air so lonely ! 
 Blood is not water ; and where shall we find 
 
 Feelings of youth like those which overthrown lie 
 By death, when we are left, alas ! behind, 
 
 To feel, in friendless palaces, a home 
 
 Is wanting, and our best ties in the tomb ? 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Early in years, and yet more infantine 
 In figure, she had something of sublime 
 
 In eyes which sadly shone, as seraphs' shine. 
 All youth — but with an aspect beyond time ; 
 
 Radiant and grave — as pitying man's decline ; 
 Mournful — but mournful of another's crime, 
 
 She look'd as if she sat by Eden's door, 
 
 And grieved for those who could return no more. 
 
28 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 She was a Catholic too, sincere, austere, 
 As far as her own gentle heart allow'd, 
 
 And deem'd that fallen worship far more dear 
 
 Perhaps because 'twas fallen : her sires were proud 
 
 Of deeds and days when they had fill'd the ear 
 Of nations, and had never bent or bow'd 
 
 To novel power ; and as she was the last, 
 
 She held their old faith and old feelings fast. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 She gazed upon a world she scarcely knew 
 As seeking not to know it ; silent, lone, 
 
 As grows a flower, thus quietly she grew, 
 And kept her heart serene within its zone. 
 
 There was awe in the homage which she drew ; 
 Her spirit seem'd as seated on a throne 
 
 Apart from the surrounding world, and strong 
 
 In its own strength — most strange in one so young ! 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 29 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Now it so happen'd, in the catalogue 
 
 Of Adeline, Aurora was omitted, 
 Although her birth and wealth had given her vogue 
 
 Beyond the charmers we have already cited; 
 Her beauty also seem'd to form no clog 
 
 Against her being mention'd as well fitted, 
 By many virtues, to be worth the trouble 
 Of single gentlemen who would be double. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 And this omission, like that of the bust 
 
 Of Brutus at the pageant of Tiberius, 
 Made Juan wonder, as no doubt he must. 
 
 This he express'd half smiling and half serious ; 
 When Adeline replied with some disgust, 
 
 And with an air, to say the least, imperious, 
 She marvell'd " what he saw in such a baby 
 " As that prim, silent, cold Aurora Raby ?" 
 
30 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 L. 
 
 Juan rejoined — " She was a Catholic, 
 
 " And therefore fittest, as of his persuasion ; 
 
 " Since he was sure his mother would fall sick, 
 " And the Pope thunder excommunication, 
 
 " If " But here Adeline, who seem'd to pique 
 
 Herself extremely on the inoculation 
 
 Of others with her own opinions, stated — 
 
 As usual — the same reason which she late did. 
 
 LI. 
 
 And wherefore not ? A reasonable reason, 
 If good, is none the worse for repetition ; 
 
 If bad, the best way's certainly to teaze on 
 And amplify : you lose much by concision, 
 
 Whereas insisting in or out of season 
 Convinces all men, even a politician ; 
 
 Or — what is just the same — it wearies out. 
 
 So the end's gain'd, what signifies the route ? 
 
Canto XV. 
 
 DON JUAN. 
 
 31 
 
 LII. 
 
 Why Adeline had this slight prejudice — 
 For prejudice it was — against a creature 
 
 As pure as sanctity itself from vice, 
 
 With all the added charm of form and feature, 
 
 For me appears a question far too nice, 
 Since Adeline was liberal by Nature ; 
 
 But Nature's Nature, and has more caprices 
 
 Than I have time, or will, to take to pieces. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Perhaps she did not like the quiet way 
 With which Aurora on those baubles look'd, 
 
 Which charm most people in their earlier day : 
 For there are few things by mankind less brook'd, 
 
 And womankind too, if we so may say, 
 
 Than finding thus their genius stand rebuked, 
 
 Like " Anthony's by Caesar," by the few 
 
 Who look upon them as they ought to do. 
 
32 
 
 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 It was not envy — Adeline had none ; 
 
 Her place was far beyond it, and her mind. 
 It was not scorn — which could not light on one 
 
 Whose greatest/aw/* was leaving few to find. 
 It was not jealousy, I think : but shun 
 
 Following the " Ignes Fatui" of mankind. 
 
 It was not but 'tis easier far, alas i 
 
 To say what it was not, than what it was. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Little Aurora deem'd she was the theme 
 
 Of such discussion. She was there a guest, 
 
 A beauteous ripple of the brilliant stream 
 
 Of rank and youth, though purer than the rest, 
 
 Which flow'd on for a moment in the beam 
 Time sheds a moment o'er each sparkling crest. 
 
 Had she known this, she would have calmly smiled — 
 
 She had so much, or little, of the child. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 33 
 
 LVI. 
 
 The dashing and proud air of Adeline 
 
 Imposed not upon her : she saw her blaze 
 
 Much as she would have seen a glowworm shine, 
 Then turn'd unto the stars for loftier rays. 
 
 Juan was something she could not divine, 
 Being no Sibyl in the new world's ways ; 
 
 Yet she was nothing dazzled by the meteor, 
 
 Because she did not pin her faith on feature. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 His fame too, — for he had that kind of fame 
 
 Which sometimes plays the deuce with womankind, 
 
 A heterogeneous mass of glorious blame, 
 
 Half virtues and whole vices being combined ; 
 
 Faults which attract because they are not tame ; 
 Follies trick'd out so brightly that they blind : — 
 
 These seals upon her wax made no impression, 
 
 Such was her coldness or her self-possession. 
 
 c 
 
34 
 
 DON JUAN. 
 
 Canto XV. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Juan knew nought of such a character — 
 High, yet resembling not his lost Haidee ; 
 
 Yet each was radiant in her proper sphere : 
 The Island girl, bred up by the lone sea, 
 
 More warm, as lovely, and not less sincere, 
 Was Nature's all : Aurora could not be 
 
 Nor would be thus ; — the difference in them 
 
 Was such as lies between a flower and gem. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Having wound up with this sublime comparison, 
 Methinks we may proceed upon our narrative, 
 
 And, as my friend Scott says, " I sound my Warison ;" 
 Scott, the superlative of my comparative — 
 
 Scott, who can paint your Christian knight or Saracen, 
 Serf, Lord, Man, with such skill as none would share 
 it, if 
 
 There had not been one Shakespeare and Voltaire, 
 
 Of one or both of whom he seems the heir. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 35 
 
 LX. 
 
 I say, in my slight way I may proceed 
 To play upon the surface of Humanity. 
 
 I write the world, nor care if the world read, 
 At least for this I cannot spare its vanity. 
 
 My Muse hath bred, and still perhaps may breed 
 More foes by this same scroll : when I began it, I 
 
 Thought that it might turn out so — now I know it, 
 
 But still I am, or was, a pretty poet. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 The conference or congress (for it ended 
 
 As congresses of late do) of the Lady 
 Adeline and Don Juan rather blended 
 
 Some acids with the sweets — for she was heady ; 
 But, ere the matter could be marr'd or mended, 
 
 The silvery bell rung, not for " dinner ready," 
 But for that hour, called half-hour, given to dress, 
 Though ladies' robes seem scant enough for less. 
 
36 
 
 DON JUAN. 
 
 Canto XV. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 Great things were now to be achieved at table, 
 With massy plate for armour, knives and forks 
 
 For weapons; but what Muse since Homer's able 
 (His feasts are not the worst part of his works) 
 
 To draw up in array a single day-bill 
 
 Of modern dinners ? where more mystery lurks 
 
 In soups or sauces, or a sole ragout, 
 
 Than witches, b — ches, or physicians brew. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 There was a goodly " soupe a. la bonne femme" 
 Though God knows whence it came from ; there was too 
 
 A turbot for relief of those who cram, 
 Relieved with dindon a la Parigeux ; 
 
 There also was the sinner that I am ! 
 
 How shall I get this gourmand stanza through ? — 
 
 Soupe a la Beauveau, whose relief was Dory, 
 
 Relieved itself by pork, for greater glory. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 37 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 But I must crowd all into one grand mess 
 Or mass ; for should I stretch into detail, 
 
 My Muse would run much more into excess, 
 
 Than when some squeamish people deem her frail. 
 
 But though a " bonne vivante," I must confess 
 Her stomach's not her peccant part : this tale 
 
 However doth require some slight refection, 
 
 Just to relieve her spirits from dejection. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Fowls a la Conde, slices eke of salmon, 
 
 With sauces Genevoises, and haunch of venison ; 
 
 Wines too which might again have slain young A mmon — 
 A man like whom I hope we shan't see many soon ; 
 
 They also set a glazed Westphalian ham on, 
 Whereon Apicius would bestow his benison ; 
 
 And then there was Champagne with foaming whirls, 
 
 As white as Cleopatra's melted pearls. 
 
38 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Then there was God knows what " a l'Allemande/' 
 " A l'Espagnole," " timballe," and " Salpicon"— 
 
 With things I can't withstand or understand, 
 
 Though swallow'd with much zest upon the whole ; 
 
 And " entremets" to piddle with at hand, 
 Gently to lull down the subsiding soul ; 
 
 While great Lucullus' (Rdbe triumphal) muffles — 
 
 (There's Fame) — young Partridge' fillets, deck'd with 
 truffles. ( 4 ) 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 What are thejillets on the victor's brow 
 
 To these? They are rags or dust. Where is the arch 
 Which nodded to the nation's spoils below? 
 
 Where the triumphal chariots' haughty march ? 
 Gone to where victories must like dinners go. 
 
 Further I shall not follow the research : 
 But oh ! ye modern heroes with your cartridges, 
 When will your names lend lustre even to partridges ? 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 39 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Those truffles too are no bad accessaries, 
 
 Follow'd by " Petits puits d' Amour " — a dish 
 
 Of which perhaps the cookery rather varies, 
 So every one may dress it to his wish, 
 
 According to the best of dictionaries, 
 
 Which encyclopedize both flesh and fish ; 
 
 But even sans " comfitures," it no less true is, 
 
 There's pretty picking in those " petits puits." ( 5 ) 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 The mind is lost in mighty contemplation 
 Of intellect expended on two courses ; 
 
 And indigestion's grand multiplication 
 Requires arithmetic beyond my forces. 
 
 Who would suppose, from Adam's simple ration, 
 That cookery could have call'd forth such resources, 
 
 As form a science and a nomenclature 
 
 From out the commonest demands of nature ? 
 
40 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 The glasses jingled, and the palates tingled ; 
 
 The diners of celebrity dined well ; 
 The ladies with more moderation mingled 
 
 In the feast, pecking less than I can tell ; 
 Also the younger men too ; for a springald 
 
 Can't like ripe age in gourmandise excel, 
 But thinks less of good eating than the whisper 
 (When seated next him) of some pretty lisper. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Alas ! I must leave undescribed the gibier, 
 
 The salmi, the consomme, the puree, 
 All which I use to make my rhymes run glibber 
 
 Than could roast beef in our rough John Bull way : 
 I must not introduce even a spare rib here, 
 
 « Bubble and squeak " would spoil my liquid lay ; 
 But I have dined, and must forego, alas ! 
 The chaste description even of a " Becasse," 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 41 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 And fruits, and ice, and all that art refines 
 From nature for the service of the gout, — 
 
 Taste or the gout, — pronounce it as inclines 
 Your stomach ! Ere you dine, the French will do ; 
 
 But after, there are sometimes certain signs 
 Which prove plain English truer of the two. 
 
 Hast ever had the gout? 1 have not had it — 
 
 But I may have, and you too, Reader, dread it. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 The simple olives, best allies of wine, 
 
 Must I pass over in my bill of fare ? 
 I must, although a favourite " plat *' of mine 
 
 In Spain, and Lucca, Athens, every where : 
 On them and bread 'twas oft my luck to dine, 
 
 The grass my table-cloth, in open air, 
 On Sunium or Hymettus, like Diogenes, 
 Of whom half my philosophy the progeny is. 
 
42 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Amidst this tumult of fish, flesh, and fowl, 
 
 And vegetables, all in masquerade, 
 The guests were placed according to their roll, 
 
 But various as the various meats display'd : 
 Don Juan sat next an " a l'Espagnole " — 
 
 No damsel, but a dish, as hath been said ; 
 But so far like a lady, that 'twas drest 
 Superbly, and contained a world of zest, 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 By some odd chance too he was placed between 
 
 Aurora and the Lady Adeline — 
 A situation difficult, I ween, 
 
 For man therein, with eyes and heart, to dine. 
 Also the conference which we have seen 
 
 Was not such as to encourage him to shine ; 
 For Adeline, addressing few words to him, 
 With two transcendant eyes seemed to look through him. 
 
Cakto XV. DON JUAN. 43 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 I sometimes almost think that eyes have ears : 
 This much is sure, that, out of earshot, things 
 
 Are somehow echoed to the pretty dears, 
 
 Of which I can't tell whence their knowledge springs ; 
 
 Like that same mystic music of the spheres, 
 Which no one hears so loudly though it rings. 
 
 'Tis wonderful how oft the sex have heard 
 
 Long dialogues which pass'd without a word ! 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Aurora sat with that indifference 
 
 Which piques a preux Chevalier — as it ought : 
 Of all offences that's the worst offence, 
 
 Which seems to hint you are not worth a thought. 
 Now Juan, though no coxcomb in pretence, 
 
 Was not exactly pleased to be so caught : 
 Like a good ship entangled among ice, 
 And after so much excellent advice. 
 
44 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 To his gay nothings, nothing was replied, 
 
 Or something which was nothing, as urbanity 
 
 Required. Aurora scarcely look'd aside, 
 Nor even smiled enough for any vanity. 
 
 The devil was in the girl ! Could it be pride ? 
 Or modesty, or absence, or inanity ? 
 
 Heaven knows ! But Adeline's malicious eyes 
 
 Sparkled with her successful prophecies, 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 And look'd as much as if to say, " I said it;" — 
 A kind of triumph I'll not recommend, 
 
 Because it sometimes, as I've seen or read it, 
 Both in the case of lover and of friend, 
 
 Will pique a gentleman, for his own credit, 
 To bring what was a jest to a serious end : 
 
 For all men prophesy what is or was, 
 
 And hate those who won't let them come to pass. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 45 
 
 *-• ' 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 Juan was drawn thus into some attentions, 
 Slight but select, and just enough to express, 
 
 To females of perspicuous comprehensions, 
 
 That he would rather make them more than less. 
 
 Aurora at the last (so history mentions, 
 
 Though probably much less a fact than guess) 
 
 So far relax'd her thoughts from their sweet prison, 
 
 As once or twice to smile, if not to listen. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 From answering, she began to question : this 
 With her was rare ; and Adeline, who as yet 
 
 Thought her predictions went not much amiss, 
 Began to dread she'd thaw to a coquette — 
 
 So very difficult, they say, it is 
 
 To keep extremes from meeting, when once set 
 
 In motion ; but she here too much refined — 
 
 Aurora's spirit was not of that kind. 
 
46 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 But Juan had a sort of winning way, 
 
 A proud humility, if such there be, 
 Which show'd such deference to what females say, 
 
 As if each charming word were a decree. 
 His tact too temper'd him from grave to gay, 
 
 And taught him when to be reserved or free : 
 He had the art of drawing people out, 
 Without their seeing what he was about. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 Aurora, who in her indifference 
 
 Confounded him in common with the crowd 
 Of flutterers, though she deem'd he had more sense 
 
 Than whispering foplings, or than witlings loud, — 
 Commenced(fromsuchslight things will greatcommence) 
 
 To feel that flattery which attracts the proud 
 Rather by deference than compliment, 
 And wins even by a delicate dissent. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 47 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 And then he had good looks ; — that point was carried 
 Nem. con. amongst the women, which I grieve 
 
 To say leads oft to crim. con. with the married — 
 A case which to the Juries we may leave, 
 
 Since with digressions we too long have tarried. 
 Now though we know of old that looks deceive, 
 
 And always have done, somehow these good looks 
 
 Make more impression than the best of books. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 Aurora, who look'd more on books than faces, 
 Was very young, although so very sage, 
 
 Admiring more Minerva than the Graces, 
 Especially upon a printed page. 
 
 But Virtue's self, with all her tightest laces, 
 Has not the natural stays of strict old age ; 
 
 And Socrates, that model of all duty, 
 
 Own'd to a penchant, though discreet, for beauty. 
 
48 DON JUAN. CaktoXV. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 And girls of sixteen are thus far Socratic, 
 
 But innocently so, as Socrates : 
 And really, if tlfk Sage sublime and Attic 
 
 At seventy years had phantasies like these, 
 Which Plato in his dialogues dramatic 
 
 Has shown, I know not why they should displease 
 In virgins — always in a modest way, 
 Observe ; for that with me's a " sine qua." («) 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 Also observe, that like the great Lord Coke, 
 (See Littleton) whene'er I have expressed 
 
 Opinions two, which at first sight may look 
 Twin opposites, the second is the best. 
 
 Perhaps I have a third too in a nook, 
 
 Or none at all — which seems a sorry jest ; 
 
 But if a writer should be quite consistent, 
 
 How could he possibly show things existent? 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 49 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 If people contradict themselves, can I 
 Help contradicting them, and every body, 
 
 Even my veracious self? — But that's a lie ; 
 I never did so, never will — how should I ? 
 
 He who doubts all things, nothing can deny ; 
 Truth's fountains may be clear—her streams are muddy, 
 
 And cut through such canals of contradiction, 
 
 That she must often navigate o'er fiction. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 Apologue, fable, poesy, and parable, 
 Are false, but may be render'd also true 
 
 By those who sow them in a land that's arable. 
 'Tis wonderful what fable will not do ! 
 
 'Tis said it makes reality more bearable : 
 But what's reality? Who has its clue ? 
 
 Philosophy? No; she too much rejects. 
 
 Religion ? Yes ; but which of all her sects ? 
 
 r> 
 
50 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 xc. 
 
 Some millions must be wrong, that's pretty clear : 
 Perhaps it may turn out that all were right. 
 
 God help us ! Since we have need on our career 
 To keep our holy beacons always bright, 
 
 'Tis time that some new Prophet should appear, 
 Or old indulge man with a second sight. 
 
 Opinions wear out in some thousand years, 
 
 Without a small refreshment from the spheres. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 But here again, why will I thus entangle 
 Myself with metaphysics ? None can hate 
 
 So much as I do any kind of wrangle ; 
 And yet, such is my folly, or my fate, 
 
 I always knock my head against some angle 
 About the present, past, or future state : 
 
 Yet I wish well to Trojan and to Tyrian, 
 
 For I was bred a moderate Presbyterian. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 51 
 
 XCII. 
 
 But though I am a temperate Theologian, 
 
 And also meek as a Metaphysician, 
 Impartial between Tyrian and Trojan, 
 
 As Eldon on a lunatic commission, — 
 In politics my duty is to show John 
 
 Bull something of the lower world's condition. 
 It makes my blood boil like the springs of Hecla, 
 To see men let these scoundrel Sovereigns break law. 
 
 / 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 But politics, and policy, and piety, 
 
 Are topics which I sometimes introduce, 
 
 Not only for the sake of their variety, 
 But as subservient to a moral use ; 
 
 Because my business is to dress society, 
 
 And stuff with sage that very verdant goose. 
 
 And now, that we may furnish with some matter all 
 
 Tastes, we are going to try the supernatural. 
 
52 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 And now I will give up all argument ; 
 
 And positively henceforth no temptation 
 Shall " fool me to the top up of my bent;" — 
 
 Yes, I'll begin a thorough reformation. 
 Indeed I never knew what people meant 
 
 By deeming that my Muse's conversation 
 Was dangerous ; — I think she is as harmless 
 As some who labour more and yet may charm less. 
 
 xcv. 
 
 Grim reader ! did you ever see a ghost ? 
 
 No ; but you have heard — I understand — be dumb I 
 And don't regret the time you may have lost, 
 
 For you have got that pleasure still to come : 
 And do not think I mean to sneer at most 
 
 Of these things, or by ridicule benumb 
 That source of the sublime and the mysterious : — 
 For certain reasons, my belief is serious. 
 
Canto XV. DON JUAN. 53 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 Serious ? You laugh : — you may ; that will I not ; 
 
 My smiles must be sincere or not at all. 
 I say I do believe a haunted spot 
 
 Exists — and where ? That shall I not recal, 
 Because I'd rather it should be forgot, 
 
 " Shadows the soul of Richard" may appal. 
 In short, upon that subject I've some qualms very 
 Like those of the Philosopher of Malmsbury. ( 7 ) 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 The night (I sing by night — sometimes an owl, 
 And now and then a nightingale) — is dim, 
 
 And the loud shriek of sage Minerva's fowl 
 Rattles around me her discordant hymn : 
 
 Old portraits from old walls upon me scowl — 
 I wish to heaven they would not look so grim ; 
 
 The dying embers dwindle in the grate — 
 
 I think too that J have sate up too late : 
 
54 DON JUAN. Canto XV. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 And therefore, though 'tis by no means my way 
 To rhyme at noon — when I have other things 
 
 To think of, if I ever think, — I say 
 
 I feel some chilly midnight shudderings, 
 
 And prudently postpone, until mid-day, 
 Treating a topic which alas but brings 
 
 Shadows ; — but you must be in my condition 
 
 Before you learn to call this superstition. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 Between two worlds life hovers like a star, 
 
 'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge : 
 
 How little do we know that which we are ! 
 How less what we may be ! The eternal surge 
 
 Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar 
 Our bubbles ; as the old burst, new emerge, 
 
 Lash'd from the foam of ages ; while the graves 
 
 Of Empires heave but like some passing waves. 
 
 END OF THE FIFTEENTH CANTO. 
 
NOTES TO CANTO XV. 
 
 Note 1, page 14, stanza xviii. 
 
 And thou Diviner still, 
 Whose lot it is by man to be mistaken. 
 
 As it is necessary in these times to avoid ambiguity, 1 say, 
 that I mean, by " Diviner still," Christ. If ever God was 
 Man — or Man God — he was both. I never arraigned his 
 creed, but the use — or abuse — made of it. Mr. Canning 
 one day quoted Christianity to sanction Negro Slavery, and 
 Mr. Wilberforce had little to say in reply. And was Christ 
 crucified, that black men might be scourged ? If so, he had 
 better been born a Mulatto, to give both colours an equal 
 chance of freedom, or at least salvation. 
 
 Note 2, page 22, stanza xxxv. 
 
 When Rapp the Harmonist embargoed marriage 
 In his harmonious settlement. 
 
 This extraordinary and flourishing German colony in Ame- 
 rica does not entirely exclude matrimony, as the " Shakers" 
 do ; but lays such restrictions upon it as prevent more than 
 a certain quantum of births within a certain number of years ; 
 which births (as Mr. Hulme observes) generally arrive " in a 
 little flock like those of a farmer's lambs, all within the same 
 
56 NOTES. 
 
 month perhaps." These Harmonists (so called from the 
 name of their settlement) are represented as a remarkably 
 flourishing, pious, and quiet people. See the various recent 
 writers on America. 
 
 Note 3, page 24, stanza xxxviii. 
 
 Nor canvass what " so eminent a hand" meant. 
 
 Jacob Tonson, according to Mr. Pope, was accustomed to 
 call his writers, " able pens" — "persons of honour," and espe- 
 cially " eminent hands." Vide Correspondence, &c. &c. 
 
 Note 4, page 38, stanza lxvi. 
 
 While great Lucullus' (Robe triumphal) muffles — 
 (There's Fame) — young Partridge fillets, deck'd with truffles. 
 
 A dish " a la Lucullus." This hero, who conquered the 
 East, has left his more extended celebrity to the transplanta- 
 tion of cherries (which he first brought into Europe) and the 
 nomenclature of some very good dishes ; — and I am not sure 
 that (barring indigestion) he has not done more service to 
 mankind by his cookery than by his conquests. A cherry- 
 tree may weigh against a bloody laurel : besides, he has con- 
 trived to earn celebrity from both. 
 
 Note 5, page 39, stanza lxviii. 
 
 But even sans " confitures," it no less true is, 
 There's pretty picking in those " petits puits." 
 
 " Petit puits d'amour garnis des confitures," a classical 
 and well-known dish for part of the flank of a second course. 
 
NOTES. 57 
 
 Note 6, page 48, stanza lxxxvi. 
 For that with rue's a " sine qua." 
 Subauditur " Non" omitted for the sake of euphony. 
 
 Note 7, page 53, stanza xcvi. 
 
 In short, upon that subject Tve some qualms very 
 Like those of the Philosopher of Malmsbury. 
 
 Hobbes; who, doubting of his own soul, paid that compli- 
 ment to the souls of other people as to decline their visits, 
 of which he had some apprehension. 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO XVI. 
 
DON JUAN. 
 
 CANTO XVI. 
 
 I. 
 
 The antique Persians taught three useful things, 
 To draw the bow, to ride, and speak the truth. 
 
 This was the mode of Cyrus, best of kings — 
 A mode adopted since by modern youth. 
 
 Bows have they, generally with two strings ; 
 Horses they ride without remorse or ruth ; 
 
 At speaking truth perhaps they are less clever, 
 
 But draw the long bow better now than ever. 
 
62 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 II. 
 
 The cause of this effect, or this defect, — 
 
 " For this effect defective comes by cause," — 
 
 Is what I have not leisure to inspect ; 
 But this I must say in my own applause, 
 
 Of all the Muses that I recollect, 
 
 Whate'er may be her follies or her flaws 
 
 In some things, mine's beyond all contradiction 
 
 The most sincere that ever dealt in fiction. 
 
 III. 
 
 And as she treats all things, and ne'er retreats 
 From any thing, this Epic will contain 
 
 A wilderness of the most rare conceits, 
 
 Which you might elsewhere hope to find in vain. 
 
 'Tis true there be some bitters with the sweets, 
 Yet mixed so slightly that you can't complain, 
 
 But wonder they so few are, since my tale is 
 
 ** De rebus cunctis et quibusdam aliis." 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 63 
 
 IV. 
 
 But of all truths which she has told, the most 
 True is that which she is about to tell. 
 
 I said it was a story of a ghost — 
 What then ? I only know it so befel. 
 
 Have you explored the limits of the coast, 
 
 Where all the dwellers of the earth must dwell ? 
 
 Tis time to strike such puny doubters dumb as 
 
 The sceptics who would not believe Columbus. 
 
 V. 
 
 Some people would impose now with authority, 
 Turpin's or Monmouth GeofFry's Chronicle ; 
 
 Men whose historical superiority 
 Is always greatest at a miracle. 
 
 But Saint Augustine has the great priority, 
 Who bids all men believe the impossible, 
 
 Because 'tis so. Who nibble, scribble, quibble, he 
 
 Quiets at once with " quia impossibile." 
 
64 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And therefore, mortals, cavil not at all ; 
 
 Believe : — if 'tis improbable, you must ; 
 And if it is impossible, you shall: 
 
 Tis always best to take things upon trust. 
 I do not speak profanely, to recal 
 
 Those holier mysteries, which the wise and just 
 Receive as gospel, and which grow more rooted, 
 As all truths must, the more they are disputed. 
 
 VII. 
 
 I merely mean to say what Johnson said, 
 
 That in the course of some six thousand years, 
 
 All nations have believed that from the dead 
 A visitant at intervals appears ; 
 
 And what is strangest upon this strange head, 
 Is, that whatever bar the reason rears 
 
 'Gainst such belief, there's something stronger still 
 
 In its behalf, let those deny who will. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 65 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The dinner and the soiree too were done, 
 
 The supper too discussed, the dames admired, 
 
 The banqueteers had dropped off one by one — 
 The song was silent, and the dance expired : 
 
 The last thin petticoats were vanished, gone 
 Like fleecy clouds into the sky retired, 
 
 And nothing brighter gleamed through the saloon 
 
 Than dying tapers — and the peeping moon. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The evaporation of a joyous day 
 
 Is like the last glass of champagne, without 
 The foam which made its virgin bumper gay ; 
 
 Or like a system coupled with a doubt ; 
 Or like a soda bottle when its spray 
 
 Has sparkled and let half its spirit out ; 
 Or like a billow left by storms behind, 
 Without the animation of the wind ; 
 
 E 
 
6G DON JUAN. Camto-XVI. 
 
 X. 
 
 Or like an opiate which brings troubled rest, 
 Or none $ or like — like nothing that I know 
 
 Except itself \ — such is the human breast ; 
 A thing, of which similitudes can show 
 
 No real likeness, — like the old Tyrian vest 
 Dyed purple, none at present can tell how, 
 
 If from a shell-fish or from cochineal. ( J ) 
 
 So perish every tyrant's robe piece-meal ! 
 
 XI. 
 
 But next to dressing for a rout or ball, 
 
 Undressing is a woe ; our robe de chambre 
 
 May sit like that of Nessus and recal 
 
 Thoughts quite as yellow, but less clear than amber. 
 
 Titus exclaimed, " I've lost a day !" Of all 
 
 The nights and days most people can remember, 
 
 (I have had of both, some not to be disdained) 
 
 I wish they'd state how many they have gained. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 67 
 
 ■ 
 
 XII. 
 
 And Juan, on retiring for the night, 
 
 Felt restless, and perplexed, and compromised ; 
 He thought Aurora Raby's eyes more bright 
 
 Than Adeline (such is advice) advised ; 
 If he had known exactly his own plight, 
 
 He probably would have philosophised ; 
 A great resource to all, and ne'er denied 
 Till wanted ; therefore Juan only sighed. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 He sighed ; — the next resource is the full moon, 
 Where ail sighs are deposited ; and now 
 
 It happened luckily, the chaste orb shone 
 As clear as such a climate will allow ; 
 
 And Juan's mind was in the proper tone 
 
 To hail her with the apostrophe — " Oh, Thou !" 
 
 Of amatory egotism the Tuism, 
 
 Which further to explain would be a truism. 
 
68 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 But lover, poet, or astronomer, 
 Shepherd, or swain, whoever may behold, 
 
 Feel some abstraction when they gaze on her : 
 
 Great thoughts we catch from thence (besides a cold 
 
 Sometimes, unless my feelings rather err ;) 
 Deep secrets to her rolling light are told ; 
 
 The ocean's tides and mortal's brains she sways, 
 
 And also hearts, if there be truth in lays. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Juan felt somewhat pensive, and disposed 
 For contemplation rather than his pillow : 
 
 The Gothic chamber, where he was enclosed, 
 Let in the rippling sound of the lake's billow, 
 
 With all the mystery by midnight caused ; 
 Below his window waved (of course) a willow ; 
 
 And he stood gazing out on the cascade 
 
 That flashed and after darkened in the shade. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 69 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Upon his table or his toilet, — which 
 
 Of these is not exactly ascertained — 
 (I state this, for I am cautious to a pitch 
 
 Of nicety, where a fact is to be gained) 
 A lamp burned high, while he leant from a niche, 
 
 Where many a gothic ornament remained, 
 In chiselled stone and painted glass, and all 
 That time has left our fathers of their Hall. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Then, as the night was clear though cold, he threw 
 His chamber door wide open — and went forth 
 
 Into a gallery, of a sombre hue, 
 
 Long, furnished with old pictures of great worth, 
 
 Of knights and dames heroic and chaste too, 
 As doubtless should be people of high birth. 
 
 But by dim lights the portraits of the dead 
 
 Have something ghastly, desolate, and dread. 
 
70 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The forms of the grim knights and pictured saints 
 Look living in the moon ; and as you turn 
 
 Backward and forward to the echoes faint 
 Of your own footsteps — voices from the urn 
 
 Appear to wake, and shadows wild and quaint 
 
 Start from the frames which fence their aspects stern, 
 
 As if to ask how you can dare to keep 
 
 A vigil there, where all but death should sleep. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And the pale smile of Beauties in the grave, 
 The charms of other days, in starlight gleams 
 
 Glimmer on high ; their buried locks still wave 
 Along the canvas ; their eyes glance like dreams 
 
 On ours, or spars within some dusky cave, 
 But death is imaged in their shadowy beams. 
 
 A picture is the past ; even ere its frame 
 
 Be gilt, who sate hath ceased to be the same. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 71 
 
 XX. 
 
 As Juan mused on mutability, 
 
 Or on his mistress — terms synonimous — 
 No sound except the echo of his sigh 
 
 Or step ran sadly through that antique house, 
 When suddenly he heard, or thought so, nigh, 
 
 A supernatural agent — or a mouse, 
 Whose little nibbling rustle will embarrass 
 Most people as it plays along the arras. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 It was no mouse, but lo ! a monk, arrayed 
 In cowl and beads and dusky garb, appeared, 
 
 Now in the moonlight, and now lapsed in shade, 
 With steps that trod as heavy, yet unheard ; 
 
 His garments only a slight murmur made ; 
 He moved as shadowy as the sisters weird, 
 
 But slowly; and as he passed Juan by, 
 
 Glanced, without pausing, on him a bright eye. 
 
72 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Juan was petrified ; he had heard a hint 
 
 Of such a spirit in these halls of old, 
 But thought, like most men, there was nothing in't 
 
 Beyond the rumour which such spots unfold, 
 Coined from surviving superstition's mint, 
 
 Which passes ghosts in currency like gold, 
 But rarely seen, like gold compared with paper. 
 And did he see this ? or was it a vapour ? 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Once, twice, thrice passed, repassed — the thing of air, 
 Or earth beneath, or heaven, or t'other place ; 
 
 And Juan gazed upon it with a stare, 
 
 Yet could not speak or move ; but, on its base 
 
 As stands a statue, stood : he felt his hair 
 Twine like a knot of snakes around his face ; 
 
 He taxed his tongue for words, which were not granted, 
 
 To ask the reverend person what he wanted. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 73 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The third time, after a still longer pause, 
 The shadow passed away — but where ? the hall 
 
 Was long, and thus far there was no great cause 
 To think his vanishing unnatural : 
 
 Doors there were many, through which, by the laws 
 Of physics, bodies whether short or tall 
 
 Might come or go ; but Juan could not state 
 
 Through which the spectre seemed to evaporate. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 He stood— how long he knew not, but it seemed 
 An age, — expectant, powerless, with his eyes 
 
 Strained on the spot where first the figure gleamed ; 
 Then by degrees recalled his energies, 
 
 And would have passed the whole off as a dream, 
 But could not wake ; he was, he did surmise, 
 
 Waking already, and returned at length 
 
 Back to his chamber, shorn of half his strength. 
 
74 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 All there was as he left it : still his taper 
 Burnt, and not blue, as modest tapers use, 
 
 Receiving sprites with sympathetic vapour ; 
 He rubbed his eyes, and they did not refuse 
 
 Their office ; he took up an old newspaper ; 
 The paper was right easy to peruse ; 
 
 He read an article the king attacking, 
 
 And a long eulogy of " Patent Blacking." 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 This savoured of this world ; but his hand shook — 
 He shut his door, and after having read 
 
 A paragraph, I think about Horne Tooke, 
 Undrest, and rather slowly went to bed. 
 
 There couched all snugly on his pillow's nook, 
 With what he had seen his phantasy he fed, 
 
 And though it was no opiate, slumber crept 
 
 Upon him by degrees, and so he slept. 
 
CahtoXVI. DON JUAN. 75 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 He woke betimes ; and, as may be supposed, 
 
 Pondered upon his visitant or vision, 
 And whether it ought not to be disclosed, 
 
 At risk of being quizzed for superstition. 
 The more he thought, the more his mind was posed ; 
 
 In the mean time, his valet, whose precision 
 Was great, because his master brooked no less, 
 Knocked to inform him it was time to dress. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 He dressed ; and like young people, he was wont 
 To take some trouble with his toilet, but 
 
 This morning rather spent less time upon 't ; 
 Aside his very mirror soon was put ; 
 
 His curls fell negligently o'er his front, 
 
 His clothes were not curbed to their usual cut, 
 
 His very neckcloth's Gordian knot was tied 
 
 Almost an hair's breadth too much on one side. 
 
76 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 And when he walked down into the saloon, 
 He sate him pensive o'er a dish of tea, 
 
 Which he perhaps had not discovered soon, 
 Had it not happened scalding hot to be, 
 
 Which made him have recourse unto his spoon ; 
 So much distrait he was, that all could see 
 
 That something was the matter — Adeline 
 
 The first — but what she could not well divine. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 She looked, and saw him pale, and turned as pale 
 Herself; then hastily looked down, and muttered 
 
 Something, but what's not stated in my tale. 
 Lord Henry said, his muffin was ill buttered ; 
 
 The Duchess of Fitz-Fulke played with her veil, 
 And looked at Juan hard, but nothing uttered. 
 
 Aurora Raby, with her large dark eyes, 
 
 Surveyed him with a kind of calm surprise. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 77 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 But seeing him all cold and silent still, 
 And every body wondering more or less, 
 
 Fair Adeline enquired, " If he were ill ?" 
 
 He started, and said, " Yes — no — rather — yes." 
 
 The family physician had great skill, 
 And being present, now began to express 
 
 His readiness to feel his pulse and tell 
 
 The cause, but Juan said, " He was quite well." 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 " Quite well; yes j no." — These answers were myste- 
 rious, 
 
 And yet his looks appeared to sanction both, 
 However they might savour of delirious ; 
 
 Something like illness of a sudden growth 
 Weighed on his spirit, though by no means serious. 
 
 But for the rest, as he himself seemed loth 
 To state the case, it might be ta'en for granted 
 It was not the physician that he wanted. 
 
78 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Lord Henry, who had now discussed his chocolate, 
 Also the muffin whereof he complained, 
 
 Said, Juan had not got his usual look elate, 
 At which he marvelled, since it had not rained; 
 
 Then asked her Grace what news were of the Duke of late? 
 Her Grace replied, his Grace was rather pained 
 
 With some slight, light, hereditary twinges 
 
 Of gout, which rusts aristocratic hinges. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Then Henry turned to Juan and addressed 
 A few words of condolence on his state : 
 
 " You look," quoth he, " as if you had had your rest 
 Broke in upon by the Black Friar of late." 
 
 " What Friar ?" said Juan ; and he did his best 
 To put the question with an air sedate, 
 
 Or careless ; but the effort was not valid 
 
 To hinder him from growing still more pallid. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN 79 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " Oh ! have you never heard of the Black Friar? 
 
 The spirit of these walls?"—" In truth not I." 
 " Why Fame — but Fame you know's sometimes a liar — 
 
 Tells an odd story, of which by the bye : 
 Whether with time the spectre has grown shyer, 
 
 Or that our sires had a more gifted eye 
 For such sights, though the tale is half believed, 
 The Friar of late has not been oft perceived. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 " The last time was " " I pray," said Adeline, — 
 
 (Who watched the changes of Don Juan's brow, 
 
 And from its context thought she could divine 
 Connections stronger than he chose to avow 
 
 With this same legend) — " if you but design 
 
 To jest, you'll choose some other theme just now, 
 
 Because the present tale has oft been told, 
 
 And is not much improved by growing old." 
 
80 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 " Jest !" quoth Milor, " Why, Adeline, you know 
 That we ourselves — 'twas in the Honey Moon — 
 
 Saw " " Well, no matter, 'twas so long ago ; 
 
 But, come, I'll set your story to a tune." 
 
 Graceful as Dian when she draws her bow, 
 
 She seized her harp, whose strings were kindled soon 
 
 As touched, and plaintively began to play 
 
 The air of " 'Twas a Friar of Orders Grey." 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 " But add the words," cried Henry, "which you made; 
 
 For Adeline is half a poetess," 
 Turning round to the rest, he smiling said. 
 
 Of course the others could not but express 
 In courtesy their wish to see displayed 
 
 By one three talents, for there were no less — 
 The voice, the words, the harper's skill, at once 
 Could hardly be united by a dunce. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 81 
 
 XL. 
 
 After some fascinating hesitation, — 
 
 The charming of these charmers, who seem bound, 
 I can't tell why, to this dissimulation, — 
 
 Fair Adeline, with eyes fixed on the ground 
 At first, then kindling into animation, 
 
 Added her sweet voice to the lyric sound, 
 And sang with much simplicity, — a merit 
 Not the less precious, that we seldom hear it. 
 
 I. 
 
 Beware ! beware ! of the Black Friar, 
 
 Who sitteth by Norman stone, 
 For he mutters his prayer in the midnight air, 
 
 And his mass of the days that are gone. 
 When the Lord of the Hill, Amundeville, 
 
 Made Norman Church his prey, 
 And expelled the friars, one friar still 
 
 Would not be driven away. 
 
 F 
 
82 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 2. 
 Though he came in his might, with King Henry's right, 
 
 To turn church lands to lay, 
 With sword in hand, and torch to light 
 
 Their walls, if they said nay, 
 A monk remained, unchased, unchained, 
 
 And he did not seem formed of clay, 
 For he's seen in the porch, and he's seen in the church, 
 
 Though he is not seen by day. 
 
 3. 
 And whether for good, or whether for ill, 
 
 It is not mine to say ; 
 But still to the house of Amundeville 
 
 He abideth night and day. 
 By the marriage bed of their lords, 'tis said, 
 
 He flits on the bridal eve ; 
 And 'tis held as faith, to their bed of death, 
 
 He comes — but not to grieve. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 83 
 
 4. 
 When an heir is born, he is heard to mourn, 
 
 And when aught is to befall 
 That ancient line, in the pale moonshine 
 
 He walks from hall to hall. 
 His form you may trace, but not his face, 
 
 'Tis shadowed by his cowl ; 
 But his eyes may be seen from the folds between, 
 
 And they seem of a parted soul. 
 
 5. 
 But beware ! beware ! of the Black Friar, 
 
 He still retains his sway, 
 For he is yet the church's heir 
 
 Who ever may be the lay. 
 Amundeville is lord by day, 
 
 But the monk is lord by night. 
 Nor wine nor wassail could raise a vassal 
 
 To question that friar's right. 
 
84 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 6. 
 Say nought to him as he walks the hall, 
 
 And he'll say nought to you ; 
 He sweeps along in his dusky pall, 
 
 As o'er the grass the dew. 
 Then Grammercy! for the Black Friar; 
 
 Heaven sain hirn ! fair or foul, 
 And whatsoe'er may be his prayer, 
 
 Let ours be for his soul. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 The lady's voice ceased, and the thrilling wires 
 Died from the touch that kindled them to sound ; 
 
 And the pause followed, which when song expires, 
 Pervades a moment those who listen round ; 
 
 And then of course the circle much admires, 
 Nor less applauds as in politeness bound, 
 
 The tones, the feeling, and the execution, 
 
 To the performer's diffident confusion. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 85 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Fair Adeline, though in a careless way, 
 
 As if she rated such accomplishment 
 As the mere pastime of an idle day, 
 
 Pursued an instant for her own content, 
 Would now and then as 'twere tvithout display, 
 
 Yet with display in fact, at times relent 
 To such performances with haughty smile, . 
 To show she could, if it were worth her while. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Now this (but we will whisper it aside) 
 Was — pardon the pedantic illustration — 
 
 Trampling on Plato's pride with greater pride, 
 As did the Cynic on some like occasion ; 
 
 Deeming the sage would be much mortified, 
 Or thrown into a philosophic passion, 
 
 For a spoilt carpet — but the " Attic Bee " 
 
 Was much consoled by his own repartee. ( 2 ) 
 
86 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Thus Adeline would throw into the shade, 
 
 (By doing easily whene'er she chose, 
 What dilettanti do with vast parade) 
 
 Their sort of half prof ession : for it grows 
 To something like this when too oft displayed, 
 
 And that it is so, every body knows, 
 Who have heard Miss That or This, or Lady T'other, 
 Show off— to please their company or mother. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Oh ! the long evenings of duets and trios ! 
 
 The admirations and the speculations ; 
 The " Mamma Mia's !" and the " Amor Mio's!' 
 
 The " Tanti palpiti's" on such occasions : 
 The " Lasciami's," and quavering " Addio's !" 
 
 Amongst our own most musical of nations ; 
 With " Tu mi chamas's" from Portingale, 
 To soothe our ears, lest Italy should fail. ( 3 ) 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 87 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 In Babylon's bravuras — as the home 
 
 Heart-ballads of Green Erin or Grey Highlands, 
 That brings Lochaber back to eyes that roam 
 
 O'er far Atlantic continents or islands, 
 The calentures of music which o'ercome 
 
 All mountaineers with dreams that they are nigh lands, 
 No more to be beheld but in such visions, — 
 Was Adeline well versed, as compositions. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 She also had a twilight tinge of " Blue" 
 
 Could write rhymes, and compose more than she wrote ; 
 Made epigrams occasionally too 
 
 Upon her friends, as every body ought. 
 But still from that sublimer azure hue, 
 
 So much the present dye, she was remote, 
 Was weak enough to deem Pope a great poet, 
 And what was worse, was not ashamed to show it. 
 
8£ 
 
 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Aurora — since we are touching upon taste, 
 Which now-a-days is the thermometer 
 
 By whose degrees all characters are classed— • 
 Was more Shakespearian, if I do not err. 
 
 The worlds beyond this world's perplexing waste 
 Had more of her existence, for in her 
 
 There was a depth of feeling to embrace 
 
 Thoughts, boundless, deep, but silent too as Space. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Not so her gracious, graceful, graceless Grace, 
 The full grown Hebe of Fitz-Fulke, whose mind, 
 
 If she had any, was upon her face, 
 And that was of a fascinating kind. 
 
 A little turn for mischief you might trace 
 Also thereon, — but that's not much ; we find 
 
 Few females without some such gentle leaven, 
 
 For fear we should suppose us quite in heaven. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 89 
 
 L. 
 
 I have not heard she was at all poetic, 
 
 Though once she was seen reading the " Bath Guide," 
 And " Hayley's Triumphs," which she deemed pathetic, 
 
 Because, she said, her temper had been tried 
 So much, the bard had really been prophetic 
 
 Of what she had gone through with,— since a bride. 
 But of all verse, what most insured her praise 
 Were sonnets to herself, or " Bouts rimes." 
 
 LI. 
 
 'Twere difficult to say what was the object 
 
 Of Adeline, in bringing this same lay 
 To bear on what appeared to her the subject 
 
 Of Juan's nervous feelings on that day. 
 Perhaps she merely had the simple project 
 
 To laugh him out of his supposed dismay ; 
 Perhaps she might wish to confirm him in it, 
 Though why I cannot say — at least this minute. 
 
90 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LII. 
 
 But so far the immediate effect 
 Was to restore him to his self propriety, 
 
 A thing quite necessary to the elect, 
 
 Who wish to take the tone of their society : 
 
 In which you cannot be too circumspect, 
 Whether the mode be persiflage or piety, 
 
 But wear the newest mantle of hypocrisy, 
 
 On pain of much displeasing the Gynocrasy. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 And therefore Juan now began to rally 
 His spirits, and without more explanation, 
 
 To jest upon such themes in many a sally. 
 Her Grace too also seized the same occasion, 
 
 With various similar remarks to tally, 
 
 But wished for a still more detailed narration 
 
 Of this same mystic Friar's curious doings, 
 
 About the present family's deaths and wooings. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 9 1 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Of these few could say more than has been said ; 
 
 They passed as such things do, for superstition 
 With some, while others, who had more in dread 
 
 The theme, half credited the strange tradition ; 
 And much was talked on all sides on that head ; 
 
 But Juan, when cross-questioned on the vision, 
 Which some supposed (though he had not avowed it) 
 Had stirred him, answered in a way to cloud it. 
 
 LV. 
 
 And then, the mid-day having worn to one, 
 
 The company prepared to separate ; 
 Some to their several pastimes, or to none, 
 
 Some wondering 'twas so early, some so late. 
 There was a goodly match too, to be run 
 
 Between some greyhounds on my Lord's estate, 
 And a young race-horse of old pedigree, . 
 Matched for the spring, whom several went to see. 
 
02 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 There was a picture dealer who had brought 
 
 A special Titian, warranted original, 
 So precious that it was not to be bought, 
 
 Though princes the possessor were besieging all. 
 The king himself had cheapened it, but thought 
 
 The Civil List (he deigns to accept, obliging all 
 His subjects by his gracious acceptation) 
 Too scanty, in these times of low taxation. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 But as Lord Henry was a connoisseur, — 
 The friend of artists, if not arts, — the owner, 
 
 With motives the most classical and pure, 
 So that he would have been the very donor, 
 
 Rather than seller, had his wants been fewer, 
 So much he deemed his patronage an honour, 
 
 Had brought the Capo d'opera, not for sale, 
 
 But for his judgment, — never known to fail. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 93 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 There was a modern Goth, I mean a Gothic 
 Bricklayer of Babel, called an architect, 
 
 Brought to survey these grey walls, which though so 
 thick, 
 Might have from time acquired some slight defect; 
 
 Who, after rummaging the Abbey through thick 
 And thin, produced a plan whereby to erect 
 
 New buildings of correctest conformation, 
 
 And throw down old, which he called restoration. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 The cost would be a trifle — an " old song" 
 Set to some thousands ('tis the usual burthen 
 
 Of that same tune, when people hum it long) — 
 The price would speedily repay its worth in 
 
 An edifice no less sublime than strong, 
 
 By which Lord Henry's good taste would go forth in 
 
 Its glory, through all ages shining sunny, 
 
 For Gothic daring shown in English money. ( 4 ) 
 
94 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LX. 
 
 There were two lawyers busy on a mortgage 
 Lord Henry wished to raise for a new purchase ; 
 
 Also a lawsuit upon tenures burgage, 
 
 And one on tithes, which sure are Discord's torches, 
 
 Kindling Religion till she throws down her gage, 
 " Untying" squires " to fight against the churches ;"( 5 ) 
 
 There was a prize ox, a prize pig, and ploughman, 
 
 For Henry was a sort of Sabine showman. 
 
 LXL 
 
 There were two poachers caught in a steel trap 
 Ready for jail, their place of convalescence ; 
 
 There was a country girl in a close cap 
 
 And scarlet cloak (I hate the sight to see, since — 
 
 Since — since — in youth, I had the sad mishap — 
 But luckily I have paid few parish fees since) 
 
 That scarlet cloak, alas ! unclosed with Rigour, 
 
 Presents the problem of a double figure. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 95 
 
 LXII. 
 
 A reel within a bottle is a mystery, 
 
 One can't tell how it e'er got in or out, 
 
 Therefore the present piece of natural history, 
 I leave to those who are fond of solving doubt, 
 
 And merely state, though not for the consistory, 
 Lord Henry was a justice, and that Scout 
 
 The constable, beneath a warrant's banner, 
 
 Had bagged this poacher upon Nature's manor. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Now Justices of Peace must judge all pieces 
 Of mischief of all kinds, and keep the game 
 
 And morals of the country from caprices 
 
 Of those who have not a licence for the same ; 
 
 And of all things, excepting tithes and leases, 
 Perhaps these are most difficult to tame : 
 
 Preserving partridges and pretty wenches 
 
 Are puzzles to the most precautious benches. 
 
96 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 The present culprit was extremely pale, 
 Pale as if painted so ; her cheek being red 
 
 By nature, as in higher dames less hale 
 
 'Tis white, at least when they just rise from bed. 
 
 Perhaps she was ashamed of seeming frail, 
 Poor soul ! for she was country born and bred. 
 
 And knew no better in her immorality 
 
 Than to wax white — for blushes are for quality. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Her black, bright, downcast, yet espiegle eye, 
 Had gathered a large tear into its corner, 
 
 Which the poor thing at times essayed to dry, 
 For she was not a sentimental mourner, 
 
 Parading all her sensibility, 
 
 Nor insolent enough to scorn the scorner, 
 
 But stood in trembling, patient tribulation, 
 
 To be called up for her examination. 
 
Canto XVI. . DON JUAN. 97 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Of course these groups were scattered here and there, 
 Not nigh the gay saloon of ladies gent. 
 
 The lawyers in the study ; and in air 
 
 The prize pig, ploughman, poachers ; the men sent 
 
 From town, viz. architect and dealer, were 
 Both busy (as a general in his tent 
 
 Writing dispatches) in their several stations, 
 
 Exulting in their brilliant lucubrations. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 But this poor girl was left in the great hall, 
 While Scout, the parish guardian of the frail, 
 
 Discussed (he hated beer yclept the " small") 
 A mighty mug of moral double ale : 
 
 She waited until Justice could recal 
 Its kind attentions to their proper pale, 
 
 To name a thing in nomenclature rather 
 
 Perplexing for most virgins — a child's father. 
 
98 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 You see here was enough of occupation 
 
 For the Lord Henry, linked with dogs and horses. 
 
 There was much bustle too and preparation 
 Below stairs on the score of second courses, 
 
 Because, as suits their rank and situation, 
 Those who in counties have great land resources, 
 
 Have " public days," when all men may carouse, 
 
 Though not exactly what's called ". open house." 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 But once a week or fortnight, wrainvited 
 
 (Thus we translate a general invitation) 
 All country gentlemen, esquired or knighted, 
 
 May drop in without cards, and take their station 
 At the full board, and sit alike delighted 
 
 With fashionable wines and conversation ; 
 And as the Isthmus of the grand connection, 
 Talk o'er themselves, the past and next election. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 99 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Lord Henry was a great electioneerer, 
 
 Burrowing for boroughs like a rat or rabbit. 
 
 But county contests cost him rather dearer, 
 
 Because the neighbouring Scotch Earl of Giftgabbit 
 
 Had English influence, in the self-same sphere here ; 
 His son, the Honourable Dick Dicedrabbit, 
 
 Was member for the " other Interest" (meaning 
 
 The same self-interest, with a different leaning.) 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Courteous and cautious therefore in his county, 
 He was all things to all men, and dispensed 
 
 To some civility, to others bounty, 
 
 And promises to all — which last commenced 
 
 To gather to a somewhat large amount, he 
 Not calculating how much they condensed ; 
 
 But what with keeping some, and breaking others, 
 
 His word had the same value as another's. 
 
100 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 A friend to freedom and freeholders — yet 
 No less a friend to government — he held, 
 
 That he exactly the just medium hit 
 
 'Twixt place and patriotism — albeit compelled, 
 
 Such was his Sovereign's pleasure (though unfit, 
 He added modestly, when rebels railed) 
 
 To hold some sinecures he wished abolished, 
 
 But that with them all law would be demolished. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 He was " free to confess" — (whence comes this phrase ? 
 
 Is't English ? No — 'tis only parliamentary) 
 That innovation's spirit now-a-days 
 
 Had made more progress than for the last century. 
 He would not tread a factious path to praise, 
 
 Though for the public weal disposed to venture high ; 
 As for his place, he could but say this of it, 
 That the fatigue was greater than the profit. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. J 01 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Heaven, and his friends, knew that a private life 
 Had ever been his sole and whole ambition ; 
 
 But could he quit his king in times of strife 
 
 Which threatened the whole country with perdition? 
 
 When demagogues would with a butcher's knife 
 
 Cut through and through (oh ! damnable incision ! ) 
 
 The Gordian or the Geordi-an knot, whose strings 
 
 Have tied together Commons, Lords, and Kings. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Sooner " come place into the civil list 
 
 And champion him to the utmost" — he would keep it, 
 Till duly disappointed or dismissed : 
 
 Profit he cared not for, let others reap it ; 
 But should the day come when place ceased to exist, 
 
 The country would have far more cause to weep it ; 
 For how could it go on ? Explain who can ! 
 He gloried in the name of Englishman. 
 
102 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 He was as independent — aye, much more — 
 Than those who were not paid for independence, 
 
 As common soldiers, or a common Shore, 
 
 Have in their several arts or parts ascendence 
 
 O'er the irregulars in lust or gore, 
 Who do not give professional attendance. 
 
 Thus on the mob all statesmen are as eager 
 
 To prove their pride, as footmen to a beggar. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 All this (save the last stanza) Henry said, 
 
 And thought. I say no more — I've said too much ; 
 
 For all of us have either heard or read 
 
 Of — or upon the hustings — some slight such 
 
 Hints from the independent heart or head 
 Of the official candidate. I'll touch 
 
 No more on this — the dinner bell hath rung, 
 
 And grace is said ; the grace I should have sung — 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 103 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 But I'm too late, and therefore must make play. 
 
 'Twas a great banquet, such as Albion old 
 Was wont to boast — as if a glutton's tray 
 
 Were something very glorious to behold. 
 But 'twas a public feast and public day, — 
 
 Quite full, right dull, guests hot, and dishes cold, 
 Great plenty, much formality, small cheer, 
 And every body out of their own sphere. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 The squires familiarly formal, and 
 
 My lords and ladies proudly condescending ; 
 
 The very servants puzzling how to hand 
 
 Their plates — without it might be too much bending 
 
 From their high places by the sideboard's stand — 
 Yet like their masters fearful of offending. 
 
 For any deviation from the graces 
 
 Might cost both men and master too — their places. 
 
104 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 There were some hunters bold, and coursers keen, 
 Whose hounds ne'er erred, nor greyhounds deigned 
 to lurch'; 
 
 Some deadly shots too, Septembrizers, seen 
 Earliest to rise, and last to quit the search 
 
 Of the poor partridge through his stubble screen. 
 There were some massy members of the church, 
 
 Takers of tithes, and makers of good matches, 
 
 And several who sung fewer psalms than catches. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 There were some country wags too, — and, alas ! 
 
 Some exiles from the town, who had been driven 
 To gaze, instead of pavement, upon grass, 
 
 And rise at nine in lieu of long eleven. 
 And lo ! upon that day it came to pass, 
 
 I sate next that o'erwhelming son of heaven, 
 The very powerful Parson, Peter Pith, 
 The loudest wit I e'er was deafened with. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 105 
 
 LXXXJI. 
 
 I knew him in his livelier London days, 
 A brilliant diner out, though but a curate ; 
 
 And not a joke he cut but earned its praise, 
 Until preferment, coming at a sure rate, 
 
 (Oh, Providence ! how wondrous are thy ways, 
 Who would suppose thy gifts sometimes obdurate ?) 
 
 Gave him, to lay the devil who looks o'er Lincoln, 
 
 A fat fen vicarage, and nought to think on. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 His jokes were sermons, and his sermons jokes ; 
 
 But both were thrown away amongst the fens ; 
 For wit hath no great friend in aguish folks. 
 
 No longer ready ears and short-hand pens 
 Imbibed the gay bon mot, or Jjappy hoax : 
 
 The poor priest was reduced to common sense, 
 Or to coarse efforts very loud and long, 
 To hammer a hoarse laugh from the thick throng. 
 
106 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 There is a difference, says the song, " between 
 A beggar and a queen," or was (of late 
 
 The latter worse used of the two we've seen — 
 But we'll say nothing of affairs of state) 
 
 A difference ■' 'twixt a bishop and a dean," 
 A difference between crockery ware and plate, 
 
 As between English beef and Spartan broth — 
 
 And yet great heroes have been bred by both. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 But of all nature's discrepancies, none 
 Upon the whole is greater than the difference 
 
 Beheld between the country and the town, 
 Of which the latter merits every preference 
 
 From those who have few resources of their own, 
 And only think, or act, or feel with reference 
 
 To some small plan of interest or ambition — 
 
 Both which are limited to no condition. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 107 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 But " en avant!" The light loves languish o'er 
 Long banquets and too many guests, although 
 
 A slight repast makes people love much more, 
 Bacchus and Ceres being, as we know, 
 
 Even from our grammar upwards, friends of yore 
 With vivifying Venus, who doth owe 
 
 To these the invention of champagne and truffles : 
 
 Temperance delights her, but long fasting ruffles. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 Dully past o'er the dinner of the day; 
 
 And Juan took his place, he knew not where, 
 Confused, in the confusion, and distrait, 
 
 And sitting as if nailed upon his chair ; 
 Though knives and forks clanged round as in a fray, 
 
 He seemed unconscious of all passing there, 
 Till some one, with a groan, exprest a wish 
 (Unheeded twice) to have a fin offish. 
 
108 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 On which, at the third asking of the banns, 
 He started; and perceiving smiles around 
 
 Broadening to grins, he coloured more than once, 
 And hastily — as nothing can confound 
 
 A wise man more than laughter from a dunce — 
 Inflicted on the dish a deadly wound, 
 
 And with such hurry, that ere he could curb it, 
 
 He had paid his neighbour's prayer with half a turbot. 
 
 LXXX.IX. 
 
 This was no bad mistake, as it occurred, 
 
 The supplicator being an amateur; 
 But others, who were left with scarce a third, 
 
 Were angry — as they well might, to be sure. 
 They wondered how a young man so absurd 
 
 Lord Henry at his table should endure ; 
 And this, and his not knowing how much oats 
 Had fallen last market, cost his host three votes. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 109 
 
 xc. 
 
 They little knew, or might have sympathised, 
 That he the night before had seen a ghost ; 
 
 A prologue which but slightly harmonised 
 With the substantial company engrossed 
 
 By Matter, and so much materialised, 
 
 That one scarce knew at what to marvel most 
 
 Of two things — how (the question rather odd is) 
 
 Such bodies could have souls, or souls such bodies. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 But what confused him more than smile or stare 
 From all the 'squires and 'squiresses around, 
 
 Who wondered at the abstraction of his air, 
 Especially as he had been renowned 
 
 For some vivacity among the fair, 
 
 Even in the country circle's narrow bound — 
 
 (For little things upon my Lord's estate 
 
 Were good small-talk for others still less great) — 
 
110 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XCII. 
 
 Was, that he caught Aurora's eye on his, 
 And something like a smile upon her cheek. 
 
 Now this he really rather took amiss : 
 
 In those who rarely smile, their smile bespeaks 
 
 A strong external motive ; and in this 
 
 Smile of Aurora's there was nought to pique 
 
 Or hope, or love, with any of the wiles 
 
 Which some pretend to trace in ladies' smiles. 
 
 XC1II. 
 
 'Twas a mere quiet smile of contemplation, 
 
 Indicative of some surprise and pity ; 
 And Juan grew carnation with vexation, 
 
 Which was not very wise and still less witty, 
 Since he had gained at least her observation, 
 
 A most important outwork of the city — 
 As Juan should have known, had not his senses 
 By last night's ghost been driven from their defences. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 1 1 1 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 But what was bad, she did not blush in turn, 
 Nor seem embarrassed — quite the contrary ; 
 
 Her aspect was as usual, still — not stern — 
 
 And she withdrew, but cast not down, her eye, 
 
 Yet grew a little pale — with what ? concern ? 
 I know not ; but her colour ne'er was high — 
 
 Though sometimes faintly flushed — and always clear, 
 
 As deep seas in a Sunny Atmosphere. 
 
 xcv. 
 
 But Adeline was occupied by fame 
 
 This day ; and watching, witching, condescending 
 To the consumers of fish, fowl and game, 
 
 And dignity with courtesy so blending, 
 As all must blend whose part it is to aim 
 
 (Especially as the sixth year is ending) 
 At their lord's, son's, or similar connection's 
 Safe conduct through the rocks of re-elections. 
 
112 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 Though this was most expedient on the whole, 
 And usual — Juan, when he cast a glance 
 
 On Adeline while playing her grand role, 
 
 Which she went through as though it were a dance, 
 
 (Betraying only now and then her soul 
 By a look scarce perceptibly askance 
 
 Of weariness or scorn) began to feel 
 
 Some doubt how much of Adeline was real; 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 So well she acted, all and every part 
 
 By turns — with that vivacious versatility, 
 
 Which many people take for want of heart. 
 
 They err — 'tis merely what is called mobility, ( 6 ) 
 
 A thing of temperament and not of art, 
 
 Though seeming so, from its supposed facility; 
 
 And false — though true ; for surely they're sincerest, 
 
 Who are strongly acted on by what is nearest. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 11. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 This makes your actors, artists, and romancers, 
 Heroes sometimes, though seldom — sages never ; 
 
 But speakers, bards, diplomatists, and dancers, 
 Little that's great, but much of what is clever ; 
 
 Most orators, but very few financiers, 
 
 Though all Exchequer Chancellors endeavour, 
 
 Of late years, to dispense with Cocker's rigours, 
 
 And grow quite figurative with their figures. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 The poets of arithmetic are they 
 
 Who, though they prove not two and two to be 
 Five, as they would do in a modest way, 
 
 Have plainly made it out that four are three, 
 Judging by what they take, and what they pay. 
 
 The Sinking Fund's unfathomable sea, 
 That most unliquidating liquid, leaves 
 The debt unsunk, yet sinks all it receives. 
 
 n 
 
114 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 C. 
 
 While Adeline dispensed her airs and graces, 
 The fair Fitz-Fulke seemed very much at ease ; 
 
 Though too well bred to quiz men to their faces, 
 Her laughing blue eyes with a glance could seize 
 
 The ridicules of people in all places — 
 That honey of your fashionable bees— 
 
 And store it up for mischievous enjoyment ; 
 
 And this at present was her kind employment. 
 
 CI. 
 
 However, the day closed, as days must close ; 
 
 The evening also waned — and coffee came. 
 Each carriage was announced, and ladies rose, 
 
 And curtseying off, as curtsies country dame, 
 Retired : with most unfashionable bows 
 
 Their docile esquires also did the same, 
 Delighted with the dinner and their host, 
 But with the Lady Adeline the most. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 1 1 5 
 
 GIL 
 
 Some praised her beauty ; others her great grace ; 
 
 The warmth of her politeness, whose sincerity 
 Was obvious in each feature of her face, 
 
 Whose traits were radiant with the rays of verity. 
 Yes ; she was truly worthy her high place ! 
 
 No one could envy her deserved prosperity ; 
 And then her dress — what beautiful simplicity 
 Draperied her form with curious felicity ! (J) 
 
 cm. 
 
 Meanwhile sweet Adeline deserved their praises, 
 
 By an impartial indemnification 
 For all her past exertion and soft phrases, 
 
 In a most edifying conversation, 
 Which turned upon their late guests' miens and faces, 
 
 And families, even to the last relation ; 
 Their hideous wives, their horrid selves and dresses, 
 And truculent distortion of their tresses. 
 
116 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 CIV. 
 
 True, she said little — 'twas the rest that broke 
 
 Forth into universal epigram ; 
 But then 'twas to the purpose what she spoke : 
 
 Like Addison's " faint praise," so wont to damn, 
 Her own but served to set off every joke, 
 
 As music chimes in with a melodrame. 
 How sweet the task to shield an absent friend ! 
 I ask but this of mine, to not defend. 
 
 •CV. 
 
 There were but two exceptions to this keen 
 Skirmish of wits o'er the departed ; one, 
 
 Aurora, with her pure and placid mien ; 
 And Juan too, in general behind none 
 
 In gay remark on what he had heard or seen, 
 Sate silent now, his usual spirits gone : 
 
 In vain he heard the others rail or rally, 
 
 He would not join them in a single sally. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 117 
 
 CVI. 
 
 Tis true he saw Aurora look as though 
 
 She approved his silence ; she perhaps mistook 
 
 Its motive for that charity we owe 
 
 But seldom pay the absent, nor would look 
 
 Further ; it might or it might not be so. 
 But Juan, sitting silent in his nook, 
 
 Observing little in his reverie, 
 
 Yet saw this much, which he was glad to see. 
 
 CVII. 
 
 The ghost at least had done him this much good, 
 
 In making him as silent as a ghost, 
 If in the circumstances which ensued 
 
 He gained esteem where it was worth the most. 
 And certainly Aurora had renewed 
 
 In him some feelings he had lately lost 
 Or hardened ; feelings which, perhaps ideal, 
 Are so divine, that I must deem them real : — 
 
 I 
 
118 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 The love of higher things and better days ; 
 
 The unbounded hope, and heavenly ignorance 
 Of what is called the world, and the world's ways ; 
 
 The moments when we gather from a glance 
 More joy than from all future pride or praise, 
 
 Which kindle manhood, but can ne'er entrance 
 The heart in an existence of its own, 
 Of which another's bosom is the zone. 
 
 CIX. 
 
 Who WOuld not sigh At at rav Kvdtpstav j 
 
 That hath a memory, or that had a heart ? 
 Alas ! her star must wane like that of Dian ; 
 
 Ray fades on ray, as years on years depart. 
 Anacreon only had the soul to tie an 
 
 Unwithering myrtle round the unblunted dart 
 Of Eros ; but though thou hast played us many tricks, 
 Still we respect thee, " Alma Venus Genetrix !" 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 119 
 
 ex. 
 
 And full of sentiments, sublime as billows 
 
 Heaving between this world and worlds beyond, 
 
 Don Juan, when the midnight hour of pillows 
 Arrived, retired to his ; but to despond 
 
 Rather than rest. Instead of poppies, willows 
 Waved o'er his couch ; he meditated, fond 
 
 Of those sweet bitter thoughts which banish sleep, 
 
 And make the worldling sneer, the youngling weep. 
 
 CXI. 
 
 The night was as before : he was undrest, 
 Saving his night gown, which is an undress ; 
 
 Completely " sans culotte," and without vest ; 
 In short, he hardly could be clothed with less ; 
 
 But apprehensive of his spectral guest, 
 He sate, with feelings awkward to express, 
 
 (By those who have not had such visitations) 
 
 Expectant of the ghost's fresh operations. 
 
120 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 CXII. 
 
 And not in vain listened — Hush ! what's that? 
 
 I see — I see — Ah, no ! — 'tis not — yet 'tis — 
 Ye powers ! it is the — the — the — Pooh ! the cat ! 
 
 The devil may take that stealthy pace of his ! 
 So like a spiritual pit-a-pat, 
 
 Or tiptoe of an amatory Miss, 
 Gliding the first time to a rendezvous, 
 And dreading the chaste echoes of her shoe. 
 
 CXIII. 
 
 Again — what is't? The wind ? No, no, — this time 
 
 It is the sable Friar as before, 
 With awful footsteps regular as rhyme, 
 
 Or (as rhymes may be in these days) much more. 
 Again, through shadows of the night sublime, 
 
 When deep sleep fell on men, and the world wore 
 The starry darkness round her like a girdle 
 Spangled with gems — the monk made his blood curdle. 
 
Canto XVT. DON JUAN. 121 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 A noise like to wet fingers drawn on glass, ( 8 ) 
 
 Which sets the teeth on edge ; and a slight clatter 
 
 Like showers which on the midnight gusts will pass, 
 Sounding like very supernatural water, 
 
 Came over Juan's ear, which throbbed, alas ! 
 ' For immaterialism's a serious matter ; 
 
 So that even those whose faith is the most great 
 
 In souls immortal, shun them tete-a.-te'te. 
 
 cxv. 
 
 Were his eyes open ? — Yes ! and his mouth too. 
 
 Surprise has this effect — to make one dumb, 
 Yet leave the gate which Eloquence slips through 
 
 As wide as if a long speech were to come. 
 Nigh and more nigh the awful echoes drew, 
 
 Tremendous to a mortal tympanum : 
 His eyes were open, and (as was before 
 Stated) his mouth. What opened next? — the door 
 
122 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 CXVI. 
 
 It opened with a most infernal creak, 
 
 Like that of Hell. " Lasciate ogni speranza 
 
 Voi che entrate !" The hinge seemed to speak, 
 Dreadful as Dante's rhima, or this stanza ; 
 
 Or — but all words upon such themes are weak ; 
 A single shade's sufficient to entrance a 
 
 Hero — for what is substance to a Spirit ? 
 
 Or how is't matter trembles to come near it ? 
 
 CXVII. 
 
 The door flew wide, not swiftly — but, as fly 
 The sea-gulls, with a steady, sober flight — 
 
 And then swung back ; nor close — but stood awry, 
 Half letting in long shadows on the light, 
 
 Which still in Juan's candlesticks burned high, 
 For he had two, both tolerably bright, 
 
 And in the door-way, darkening Darkness, stood 
 
 The sable Friar in his solemn hood. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 1 23 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 Don Juan shook, as erst he had been shaken 
 The night before ; but being sick of shaking, 
 
 He first inclined to think he had been mistaken, 
 And then to be ashamed of such mistaking ; 
 
 His own internal ghost began to awaken 
 
 Within him, and to quell his corporal quaking — 
 
 Hinting that soul and body on the whole 
 
 Were odds against a disembodied soul. 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 And then his dread grew wrath, and his wrath fierce ; 
 
 And he arose, advanced — the shade retreated ; 
 But Juan, eager now the truth to pierce, 
 
 Followed, his veins no longer cold, but heated, 
 Resolved to thrust the mystery carte and tierce, 
 
 At whatsoever risk of being defeated : 
 The ghost stopped, menaced, then retired, until 
 He reached the ancient wall, then stood stone still. 
 
124 
 
 DON JUAN. Canto XVI. 
 
 cxx. 
 
 Juan put forth one arm — Eternal Powers ! 
 
 It touched no soul, nor body, but the wall, 
 On which the moonbeams fell in silvery showers 
 
 Checquered with all the tracery of the hall ; 
 He shuddered, as no doubt the bravest cowers 
 
 When he can't tell what 'tis that doth appal. 
 How odd, a single hobgoblin's non-entity 
 Should cause more fear than a whole host's identity !( 9 ) 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 But still the shade remained ; the blue eyes glared, 
 
 And rather variably for stony death ; 
 Yet one thing rather good the grave had spared, 
 
 The ghost had a remarkably sweet breath. 
 A straggling curl showed he had been fair-haired ; 
 
 A red lip, with two rows of pearls beneath, 
 Gleamed forth, as through the casement's ivy shroud 
 The moon peeped, just escaped from a grey cloud. 
 
Canto XVI. DON JUAN. 125 
 
 CXXII. 
 
 And Juan, puzzled, but still curious, thrust 
 His other arm forth — Wonder upon wonder ! 
 
 It pressed upon a hard but glowing bust, 
 
 Which beat as if there was a warm heart under. 
 
 He found, as people on most trials must, 
 That he had made at first a silly blunder, 
 
 And that in his confusion he had caught 
 
 Only the wall, instead of what he sought. 
 
 CXXIII. 
 
 The ghost, if ghost it were, seemed a sweet soul 
 
 As ever lurked beneath a holy hood : 
 A dimpled chin, a neck of ivory, stole 
 
 Forth into something much like flesh and blood ; 
 Back fell the sable frock and dreary cowl, 
 
 And they revealed — alas ! that ere they should ! 
 In full, voluptuous, but not o'ergrown bulk, 
 The phantom of her frolic Grace — Fitz-Fulke ! 
 
 END OF THE SIXTEENTH CANTO. 
 
[The errors of the press, in this Canto, — if there be any, — 
 are not to be attributed to the Author, as he was deprived of 
 the opportunity of correcting the proof sheets.] 
 
NOTES TO CANTO XVI. 
 
 Note 1, page 66, stanza x. 
 
 If from a shell-fish or from cochineal. 
 
 The composition of the old Tyrian purple, whether from a 
 shell-fish or from cochineal, or from kermes, is still an arti- 
 cle of dispute ; and even its colour — some say purple, others 
 scarlet : I say nothing. 
 
 Note 2, page 85, stanza xliii. 
 
 For a spoilt carpet — but the "Attic Bee u 
 Was much consoled by his own repartee. 
 
 I think that it was a carpet on which Diogenes trod, with — 
 " Thus I trample on the pride of Plato !" — " With greater 
 pride," as the other replied. But as carpets are meant to be 
 trodden upon, my memory probably misgives me, and it 
 might be a robe, or tapestry, or a table-cloth, or some other 
 expensive and uricynical piece of furniture. 
 
 Note 3, page 86, stanza xlv. 
 
 With " Tu mi chamas's" from Portingale, 
 To soothe our ears, lest Italy should fail. 
 
 I remember that the mayoress of a provincial town, some- 
 what surfeited with a similar display from foreign parts, did 
 
128 NOTES. 
 
 rather indecorously break through the applauses of an intel- 
 ligent audience — intelligent, I mean, as to music, — for the 
 words, besides being in recondite languages (it was some 
 years before the peace, ere all the world had travelled, and 
 while I was a collegian) — were sorely disguised by the per- 
 formers ; — this mayoress, I say, broke out with, " Rot your 
 Italianos ! for my part,! loves a simple ballat !" Rossini will 
 go a good way to bring most people to the same opinion, 
 some day. Who would imagine that he was to be the suc- 
 cessor of Mozart ? However, I state this with diffidence, 
 as a liege and loyal admirer of Italian music in general, and 
 of much of Rossini's : but we may say, as the connoisseur 
 did of painting, in The Vicar of Wakefield, " that the 
 picture would be better painted if the painter had taken more 
 pains." 
 
 Note 4, page 93, stanza lix. 
 For Gothic daring shown in English money. 
 
 " Ausu Romano, sere beneto" is the inscription (and well 
 inscribed in this instance) on the sea walls between the Adri- 
 atic and Venice. The walls were a republican work of the 
 Venetians ; the inscription, I believe, Imperial ; and inscribed 
 by Napoleon the First. It is time to continue to him that 
 title — there will be a second by and by, " Spes altera mundi," 
 if he live ; let him not defeat it like his father. But in any 
 case he will be preferable to the Imbeciles. There is a glo- 
 rious field for him, if he know how to cultivate it. 
 
 Note 5, page 94, stanza lx. 
 " Untying" squires " to fight against the churches." 
 
 " Though ye untie the winds and bid them fight 
 Against the churches." — Macbeth. 
 
NOTES. 1 29 
 
 Note 6, page 112, stanza xcvii. 
 
 They err — 'tis merely what is called mobility. 
 
 In French, " mobilite." I am not sure that mobility is 
 English , but it is expressive of a quality which rather be- 
 longs to other climates, though it is sometimes seen to a 
 great extent in our own. It maybe defined as an excessive 
 susceptibility of immediate impressions — at the same time 
 without losing the past; and is, though sometimes apparently 
 useful to the possessor, a most painful and unhappy attribute. 
 
 Note 7, page 115, stanza cii. 
 Draperied her form with curious felicity. 
 " Curiosa felicitas." — Petronius Arbiter. 
 
 Note 8, page 121, stanza cxiv. 
 
 A noise like to wet fingers drawn on glass. 
 
 See the account of the Ghost of the Uncle of Prince 
 Charles of Saxony raised by Schroepfer — " Karl — Karl — 
 was — wait wolt mich ?" 
 
 Note 9, page 124, stanza cxx. 
 
 How odd, a single hobgoblin's non-entity 
 
 Should cause more fear than a whole host's identity ! 
 
 " Shadows to-night 
 " Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard, 
 " Than can the Substance often thousand soldiers," &c. 
 
 See Richard III. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY C. H. REYNELL, BROAD STREET, GOLDEN SQUARE. 
 
 
ERRATUM. 
 
 The reader is requested to correct with his pen an error of the 
 press in note 4, to Canto XVI. where, in the first line," aare 6eneto" 
 is printed instead of" eere Feneto." 
 
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