There was resemblance, such as true blood wears; And now to see them, thus divided, stand In fix'd ferocity, when joyous tears, And sweet sensations should have welcomed both, Show what the passions are in their full growth. XLVI. The father paused a moment, then withdrew Would bear such outrage, and forbear to kill; XLVII. "Let him disarm; or, by my father's head, And arm'd from boot to turban, one and all, XLVIII. Then, with a sudden movement, he withdrew His daughter; while compress'd within his grasp, "Twixt her and Juan interposed the crew; In vain she struggled in her father's grasp― His arms were like a serpent's coil: then flew Upon their prey, as darts an angry asp, The file of pirates; save the foremost, who Had fallen, with his right shoulder half cut through. *XLIX. The second had his cheek laid open; but The third, a wary cool old sworder, took The blows upon his cutlass, and then put His own well in; so well, ere you could look, His man was floor'd, and helpless at his foot, With the blood running like a little brook From two smart sabre gashes, deep and redOne on the arm, the other on the head. L. And then they bound him where he fell, and bore Until they reach'd some galliots placed in line; On board of one of these, aad under hatches, They stowed him with strict orders to the watches. LI. The world is full of strange vicissitudes, And here was one exceedingly unpleasant: A gentleman so rich in the world's goods, Handsome and young, enjoying all the present, Just at the very time when he least broods On such a thing, is suddenly to sea sent, Wounded and chain'd, so that he cannot move, And all because a Lady fell in love. LII. Here I must leave him, for I grow pathetic, For if my pure libations exceed three, LVI. Afric is all the sun's, and as her earth Her human clay is kindled: full of power For good or evil, burning from its birth, The Moorish blood partakes the planet's hour, And like the soil beneath it will bring forth; Beauty and love were Haidée's mother's dower; But her large dark eye show'd deep Passion's force, Though sleeping lika a lion near a source. LVII. Her daughter, temper'd with a milder ray, But overwrought with passion and despair, LVIII. The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore, Where late he trod, her beautiful, her own; LIX. A vein had burst, and her sweet lips' pure dyes* Were dabbled with the deep blood which ran o'er; This is no very uncommon effect of the violence of conflicting o I feel my heart become so sympathetic, That I must have recourse to black Bohea: 'Tis pity wine should be so deleterious, For tea and coffee leave us much more serious, LIII. Unless when qualified with thee, Cogniac! And make, like other nymphs, thy lovers ill? LIV. I leave Don Juan for the present, safe Not sound, poor fellow, but severely wounded; Yet could his corporal pangs amount to half Of those with which his Haidée's bosom bounded! She was not one to weep, and rave, and chafe, And then give way, subdued because surrounded; Her mother was a Moorish maid, from Fez, Where all is Eden, or a wilderness. LV. There the large olive rains its amber store In marble fonts; there grain, and flower, and fruit, Gush from the earth until the lands runs o'er; But there too many a poison-tree has root, And long, long deserts scorch the camel's foot, |