Antonia's skill was put upon the rack, But no device could be brought into play. And how to parry the renew'd attack? Besides, it wanted but few hours of day: Antonia puzzled; Julia did not speak, But press'd her bloodless lip to Juan's cheek. CLXX. He turn'd his lip to hers, and with his hand Call'd back the tangles of her wandering hair; Even then their love they could not all command, And half forgot their danger and despair. Antonia's patience now was at a stand 'Come, come, 'tis no time now for fooling there," She whisper'd, in great wrath; 'I must deposit This pretty gentleman within the closet. CLXXI. Pray keep your nonsense for some luckier night-Who can have put my master in this mood? What will become on't?-I'm in such a fright! The devil's in the urchin, and no goodIs this a time for giggling? this a plight? Why, don't you know that it may end in blood? You'll lose your life, and I shall lose my place, My mistress, all, for that half-girlish face. CLXXII. Had it but been for a stout cavalier Of twenty-five or thirty-(come, make haste)But for a child, what piece of work is here! I really, madam, wonder at your taste(Come, sir, get in)-my master must be near: There for the present, at the least, he's fast, And if we can but till the morning keep Our counsel-(Juan, mind, you must not sleep).' CLXXIII. Now Don Alfonso, entering, but alone, And no great good seem'd answer'd if she stay'd; CLXXIV. Alfonso paused a minute, then begun Some strange excuses for his late proceeding: He would not justify what he had done; To say the best, it was extreme ill-breeding; But there were ample reasons for it, none Of which he specified in this his pleading: His speech was a fine sample, on the whole, Of rhetoric, which the learn'd call ‘rigmarole. CLXXV. Julia said nought, though all the while there rose CLXXVI. Julia, in fact, had tolerable grounds Alfonso's loves with Inez were well known; But whether 'twas that one's own guilt confoundBut that can't be, as has been often shown, A lady with apologies abounds; It might be that her silence sprang alone From delicacy to Don Juan's ear, To whom she knew his mother's fame was dear. CLXXVII. There might be one more motive, which makes two, Had been the happy lover, he concluded, His mind the more o'er this its mystery brooded: To speak of Inez now were, one may say, Like throwing Juan in Alfonso's way CLXXVIII. A hint, in tender cases, is enough; Silence is best; besides, there is a tact(That modern phrase appears to me sad stuff, But it will serve to keep my verse compact)Which keeps, when push'd by questions rather rough, A lady always distant from the fact: They blush, and we believe them; at least I For then their eloquence grows quite profuse; CLXXX. Alfonso closed his speech, and begg'd her pardon. CLXXXI. A pair of shoes!-what then? not much, if they Are such as fit with ladies' feet; but these (No one can tell how much I grieve to say) Were masculine: to see them, and to seize, Was but a moment's act. Ah! well-a-day! My teeth begin to chatter, my veins freeze- He left the room for his relinquish'd sword, Haste-haste! I hear Alfonso's hurrying feetDay has not broke-there's no one in the street." CLXXXIII. None can say that this was not good advice; A sort of income-tax laid on by fate: Juan had reach'd the room-door in a trice, CLXXXIV. Dire was the scuffle, and out went the light; And Juan, too, blasphemed an octave higher; His blood was up; though young, he was a Tartar, And not at all disposed to prove a martyr. CLXXXV. Alfonso's sword had dropp'd ere he could draw it, His temper not being under great command, CLXXXVI. Alfonso grappled to detain the foe, And Juan throttled him to get away, And blood ('twas from the nose) began to flow; Lights came at length, and men, and maids, who found An awkward spectacle their eyes before; Antonia in hysterics, Julia swoon'd, Alfonso leaning breathless by the door; Here ends this canto. Need I sing, or say, The nine days' wonder which was brought to And how Alfonso sued for a divorce, (light, Were in the English newspapers, of course. CLXXXIX. If you would like to see the whole proceedings. There's more than one edition, and the readings Are various, but they none of them are dull: The best is that in shorthand, ta'en by Gurney, Who to Madrid on purpose made a journey. CXC. But Donna Inez, to divert the train Of one of the most circulating scandals That had for centurics been known in Spain, At least since the retirement of the Vandals, First vow'd (and never had she vow'd in vain) To Virgin Mary several pounds of candles; (At least this is the thing most people do.) CXCI They tell me 'tis decided; you depart: I used; I write in haste, and if a stain 'I loved, I love you, for this love have lost State, station, heaven, mankind's, my own esteem; And yet cannot regret what it hath cost, So dear is still the memory of that dream; Yet if I name my guilt, 'tis not to boastNone can deem harshlier of me than I deem: I trace this scrawl because I cannot restI've nothing to reproach, or to request. CXCIV Man's love is of man's life a thing apart; 'Tis woman's whole existence. Man may range The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart, Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart, And few there are whom these cannot estrange: Men have all these resources, we but oneTo love again, and be again undone. CXCV. 'You will proceed in pleasure, and in pride, My shame and sorrow deep in my heart's core. These I could bear, but cannot cast aside The passion which still rages as before: And so farewell-forgive me, love me-No; That word is idle now-but let it go. CXCVI. My breast has been all weakness, is so yet; But still I think I can collect my mind; My blood still rushes where my spirits set, As roll the waves before the settled wind. My heart is feminine, nor can forget To all, except one image, madly blind; So shakes the needle, and so stands the pole, As vibrates my fond heart to my fix'd soul. CXCVII. 'I have no more to say, but linger still, And dare not set my seal upon this sheet; And yet I may as well the task full, My misery can scarce be more complete: I had not lived till now, could sorrow kill; Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet; And I must even survive this last adieu, And bear with life, to love and pray for you!' This note was written upon gilt-edged paper, The seal a sunflower: Elle vous suit partout, CXCIX. This was Don Juan's earliest scrape; but whether I shall procced with his adventures is Dependent on the public altogether: We'll see, however, what they say to this. Their favour in an author's cap's a feather, And no great mischief's done by their caprice; And if their approbation we experience, Perhaps they'll have some more about a year hence. CC. My poem's epic, and is meant to be Divided in twelve books; each book containing, With love, and war, a heavy gale at sea, A list of ships, and captains, and kings reigning. New characters; the episodes are three : A panoramic view of hell's in training, After the style of Virgil and of Homer, So that my name of epic's no misnomer. CCI. All these things will be specified in time, Which makes so many poets and some fools. There's only one slight difference between They so embellish, that 'tis quite a bore Thou shalt not covet Mr. Sotheby's muse, If any person should presume to assert That this is not a moral tale, though gay; CCVIII. If, after all, there should be some so blind To their own good, this warning to despise, Led by some tortuosity of mind Not to believe my verse and their own eyes, And cry that they the moral cannot find I tell him, if a clergyman, he lies; Should captains the remark, or critics, make They also lie, too-under a mistake. CCIX. The public approbation I expect, And beg they'll take my word about the moral, Which I with their amusement will connect (So children cutting teeth receive a cora!)* What are the hopes of man? Old Egypt's king Cheops erected the first pyramid, And largest, thinking it was just the thing To keep his memory whole, and mummy hid; But somebody or other, rummaging, Burglariously broke his coffin's lid: Let not a monument give you or me hopes, But I, being fond of true philosophy, All things that have been born were born to die, And flesh (which Death mows down to hay) is grass; You've pass'd your youth not so unpleasantly, And if you had it o'er again-twould passSo thank your stars that matters are no worse, And read your Bible, sir, and mind your purse." CCXXI. But for the present, gentle reader! and Still gentler purchaser! the bard-that's IMust, with permission, shake you by the hand, And so your humble servant, and goodbye! We meet again if we should understa id Each other; and if not, I shall not try Your patience further than by this short sample'Twere well if others follow'd my example. Me nec femina, nec puer Jam, nec spes animi credula mutui, Nec certare juvat mero? Nec vincire novis tempora floribus. I can't say that it puzzles me at all, If all things be consider'd. First there was His lady-mother, mathematical, A never mind; his tutor, an old ass; A pretty woman-(that's quite natural, Or else the thing had hardly come to pass); A husband rather old, not much in unity With his young wife-a time and opportunity. IV. Well-well, the world must turn upon its axis, V. I said, that Juan had been sent to Cadiz- And such sweet girls--I mean such graceful ladies, VI. An Arab horse, a stately stag, a barb New broke, a camelopard, a gazelle, No-none of these will do; and then their garb! Their veil and petticoat-alas! to dwell Upon such things would very near absorb A canto: then their feet and ankles-well Thank Heaven I've got no metaphor quite ready (And so, my sober Muse-come let's be steady VIL Chaste Muse!-well, if you inust, you mast)-the veil Thrown back a moment with the glancing han !, While the o'erpowering eye, that turns you pale, Flashes into the heart:-All sunny land Of love! when I forget you, may I fail To say my prayers-but never was there plann'd A dress through which the eyes give such a volley, Excepting the Venetian Fazzioli. But to our tale: the Donna Inez sent IX. Don Juan bade his valet pack his things A lecture and some money: for four springs In the meantime, to pass her hours away, Brave Inez now set up a Sunday school Juan embark'd, the ship got under way, As I, who've cross'd it oft, know well enough XII. I can't but say t is an awkward sight To see one's native land receding through The growing waters; it unmans one quite, Especially when life is rather new. I recollect Great Britain's coast looks white, But almost every other country's blue, |