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And Haidée, being devout as well as fair, By length I mean duration : theirs endured
Had doubtless heard about the Stygian river, Heaven knows how long-no doubt they never And hell, and purgatory—but forgot, reckond;
Just in the very crisis she should not.
They look upon each other, and their eyes
Gleam in the moonlight; and her white arm Which, being joined, like swarning bees they
Round Juan's head, and his around hers lies
Half buried in the tresses which it grasps : Their hearts the flowers from whence the honey
She sits upon his knee and drinks his sighs, sprung CLXXXVIII.
He hers, until they end in broken gasps; They were alone, but not alox.e as they
And thus they form a group that's quite antique. Who shut in chambers think it loneliness,
Half naked, loving, natural, and Greek.
And when those deep and burning moments passid, Around them, made them to each other press,
And Juan sank to sleep within her arins, As if there were no life beneath the sky
She slept not, but all tenderly, though fast,
Sustain'd his head upon her bosom's charms; Save theirs, and that their life could never dic.
And now and then her eye to heaven is cast, CLXXXIX.
And then on the pale chcek her breast now They fear'd no eyes nor ears on that lone beach,
warnis, They felt no terrors from the night; they were Pillow'd on her oʻerflowing heart, which pants All in all to each other: though their speech With all it granted, and with all it grants. Was broken words, they thought a language there;
CXCVI. And all the burning tongues the passions teach
An infant when it gazes on the light, Found in one sigh the best interpreter
A child the moinent when it drains the breast, Of nature's oracle-first love,-that all
A devotee when soars the Host in sight, Which Eve has left her daughters since her fall.
An Arab with a stranger for a guest,
A sailor when the prize has struck in fight,
A miscr filling his most hoarded chest,
Feel rapture; but not such true joy are reaping, Of plight and promises to be a spouse,
As they who watch o'er what they love while
sleeping Or perils by a loving maid incurrid;
For there it lies, so tranquil, so beloved :
All that it hath of life with us is living;
So gentle, stirless, helpless, and unmoved,
And all unconscious of the joy 'tis giving;
All it hath felt, inflicted, pass'd, and proved,
Hushi'd into depths beyond the watcher's diving: And she was worshipp'd; after nature's fashion,
There lies the thing we love, with all its errors Their intense souls, into cach other pour'd,
And all its charms, like death without its terrors. If souls could die, had perish'd in that passion,
The lady watch'd her lover-and that hour
O'erflow'd her soul with their united power;
Amidst the barren sand and rocks so rude, CXCII. Alas! they were so young, so beautiful,
She and her wave-worn love had made their hower So lonely, loving, helpless, and the hour
Where nought upon their passion could intrude;
And all the stars that crowded the blue space, Was that in which the heart is always full, And, having o'er itself no further power,
Saw nothing happier than her glowing face.
Alas, the love of women! it is known
To be a lovely and a fearful thing;
For all of theirs upon that die is thrown,
And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring
To them but mockeries of the past alone, So loving and so lovely-till then never,
And their revenge is as the tiger's spring. Excepting our first parents, such a pair
Deadly, and quick, and crushing ; yet, as real Had run the risk of being damnd for ever; Torture is theirs-what they inflict they feel
Yet to these four in three things the same luck They are right; for man to man so oft unjust,
holds, Is always so to women: one sole bond
They all were heroes, conquerors, and cuckolds. Awaits them, treachery is all their trust :
Thou mak'st philosophers; there's Epicurus
And Aristippus, a material crew!
Who to immoral courses would allure us A thankless husband, next a faithless lover,
By theories quite practicable too;
If only from the devil they would ensure us,
How pleasant were the maxim (not quite new), Some take a lover, some take drams or prayers, Eat, drink, and love; what can the rest avail us?
Some mind their household, others dissipation; So said the royal sage Sardanapalus. Some run away, and but exchange their cares,
CCVIII. Losing the advantage of a virtuous station;
But Juan ! liad he quite forgotten Julia? Few changes e'er can better their affairs,
And should he have forgotten her so soon? Theirs being an unnatural situation,
I can't but say it seems to me most truly a From the dull palace to the dirty hovel ;
Perplexing question; but, no doubt, the moon Some play the devil, and then write a novel.
Does these things for us, and whenever newly a CCII. .
Strong palpitation rises, 'tis her boon. Haidee was Nature's bride, and knew not this;
Else how the devil is it that fresh features Haidee was passion's child, born where the sun
Have such a charm for us poor human creatures: Showers triple light, and scorches even the kiss
I hate inconstancy-I loathe, detest,
Abhor, condemn, abjure, the mortal made Elsewhere was nothing. She had nought to fear,
Of such quicksilver-clay, that in his breast Hope, care, nor love beyond-her heart beat here.
No permanent foundation can be jaid:
Love, constant love, has been my constant guest; CCIII.
And yet last night, being at a masquerade, And oh! that quickening of the heart, that beat!
I saw the prettiest creature, fresh from Milan, How much it costs us ! yet each rising throb
Which gave me some sensations like a villain. Is in its cause as its effect so sweet,
But soon Philosophy came to my aid,
And whisper'd, 'Think of every sacred tie!' job
'I will, my dear Philosophy! I said, To make us understand each good old maxim,
But then her teeth, and then, O Heaven, her So good-I wonder Castlereagh don't tax 'em,
I'll just inquire if she be wife or maid, [eye!
Or neither-out of curiosity.'
*Stop!' cried Philosophy, with air so Grecian And now 'twas done on the lone shore were
(Though she was masqued then as a fair Venetian). plighted
Stop! So I stopp’d. But to return: that which Ocean their witness, and the cave their bed,
Men call inconstancy is nothing more By their own feelings hallow'd and united,
Than adiniration, due where Nature's rich Their priest was Solitude, and they were wed:
Profusion with young beauty covers o'er And they were happy, for to their young eyes
Some favour'd object; and as in the niche Each was an angel, and earth paradise.
A lovely statue we alınost adore,
This sort of admiration of the real
Is but a heightening of the beau ideal.
CCXII. Horace, Catullus, scholars; Ovid tutor,
'Tis the perception of the beautiful, Sappho the sage blue-stocking, in whose grave
A fine extension of the faculties, All those may leap who rather would be neuter
Platonic, universal, wonderful,
(skies, (Leucadia's rock still overlooks the wave)-
Drawn from the stars, and filter'd through the Oh, Love! thou art the very god of evil;
Without which life would be extremely dull; tor, after all, we cannot call thee devil.
In short, it is the use of our own eyes,
With one or two small senses added, just
To hint that flesh is form'd of fiery dust.
CCXIII. Cæsar and Pompey, Mahomet, Belisarius,
Yet 'tis a painful feeling, and unwilling, Have mach employ'd the muse of history's pen: For surely if we always could perceive Their lives and fortunes were extremely various, In the same object graces quite as killing Such worthies Time will never see again;
As when she rose upon us like an Eve,
'Twould save us many a heartache, many a shil- For the first passion stays there such a while,
(For we must get them anyhow, or grieve); [ling That all the rest creep in and form a junction, Whereas, if one sole lady pleased for ever,
Like knots of vipers on a dunghill's soil, How picasant for the heart as well as liver !
Rage, fear, hate, jealousy, revenge, coinpunc. CCXIV.
tion, The heart is like the sky, a part of heaven,
So that all mischiefs spring up from this entrail, But changes night and day, too, like the sky:
Like earthquakes from the hidden fire callid
central.' Now o'er it clouds and thunder must be driven, And darkness and destruction as on high.
CCXVI. But when it hath been scorch'd, and pierced, and In the meantime, without proceeding more riven,
In this anatomy, I've finish'd now Its storms expire in water-drops; the eye
Two liundred and odd stanzas as before, Pours forth at last the heart's blood turn'd to tears,
That being about the number I'll allow Which make the English climate of our years. Each canto of the twelve, or twenty-four; CCXV.
And laying down my pen, I make my bow, The liver is the lazaret of bile.
Leaving Don Juan and Haidéc to plead But very rarely executes its function;
For them and theirs with all who deign to rcad.
CANTO THE THIRD.
Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast,
And loved by a young heart, too deeply blest
Or know who rested there: a foc to rest
Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah! why
And place them on their breast--but place to die-
In all the others all she loves is love,
And fits her loosely-like an easy glove,
One man alone at first her heart can move;
But one thing's pretty sure: a woman planted (Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers)
After a decent time must be gallanted : Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs
Is that to which her heart is wholly granted; Yet there are some, they say, who have had none, But those who have ne'er end with only one.
V. 'Tis melancholy and a fearful sign
Of human frailty, folly, also crime,
That love and marriage rarely can combine,
Although they both are born in the same clime.
A sad, sour, sober beverage-by time
Between their present and their future state;
Is used until the truth arrives too late-
They sometimes also get a little tired
The same things cannot always be admired, Yet 'tis .so nominated in the bond,
That both are tied till one shall have expired.
Which forms, in fact, true love's antithesis;
But only give a bust of marriages :
There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss,
All comedies are ended by a marriage:
For authors fear description might disparage
The worlds to come of both, or fall beneath,
XVI. And then both worlds would punish their mis- Some he disposed of off Cape Matapan, carriage;
Among his friends the Mainots : some he sold So leaving each their priest and prayer-book ready, To his Tunis correspondents, save one man They say no more of Death or of the Lady.
Toss'd overboard, unsaleable (being old);
The rest--save here and there some richer onc,
Reserved for future ransom-in the hold,
Were link'd alike; as for the common people, he
XVII. Of fault or temper ruind the connexion
The merchandise was served in the same way, (Such things, in fact, it don't ask much to mar); Pieced out for different marts in the Levant, But Dante's Beatrice and Milton's Eve
Except some certain portions of the prey,
French stuffs, lace, tweezers, toothpicks, teapot,
Guitars and castanets from Alicant, Some persons say that Dante meant theology
(tray, By Beatrice, and not a mistress-1,
All which selected from the spoil he gathers, Although my opinion may require apology,
Robb'd for his daughter by the best of fathers. Deem this a commentator's phantasy ;
Decided thus, and show'd good reason why: Two purrots, with a Persian cat and kittens, I think that Dante's more abstruse ecstatics
Hc chose from several animals he sawMeant to personify the mathematics.
A terrier, too, which once had been a Briton's, XII.
Who dying on the coast of Ithaca, Haidee and Juan were not married ; but
The peasants gave the poor dumb thing a pittances The fault was theirs, not mine: it is not fair,
These to secure in this strong blowing weather, Chaste reader, then, in any way to put
He caged in one huge hamper all together.
The book which treats of this erroneous pair, Despatching single cruisers here and there, Before the consequences grow too awful;
His vessel having need of soine repairs, 'Tis dangerous to read of loves unlawful,
He shaped his course to where his daughter fair
Continued still her hospitable cares;
But that part of the coast being shoal and bare, Indulgence of their innocent desires;
And rough with reefs which ran out many a mile, But more imprudent grown with every visit,
His port lay on the other side o' the isle.
Having no custom-house nor quarantinc
To ask him awkward questions on the way, Whilst her piratical papa was cruising.
About the time and place wliere he had been.
He left his ship to be hove down next day,
With orders to the people to careen;
So that all hands were busy beyond measure,
In getting out goods, ballast, guns, and treasure. His title, and 'tis nothing but taxation.
XXI. But he, more modest, took a humbler range
Arriving at the suminit of a hiil of life, and in an honester vocation
Which overlook'd the white walls of his home, Pursued o'er the high seas his watery journey, He stepp'd-What singular emotions fill And merely practised as a sea-attorney.
Their bosoms who have been induced to roam ! XV.
With fluttering doubts if all be well or ill-The good old gentleman had been detain'd
With love for many, and with fears for some; By winds and waves, and some important captures,
All feelings which o'erleap the years long lost, And, in the liope of more, at sea remain'd,
And bring our hearts back to their starting-post. Although a squall or two had damp'd his raptures,
XXII. By swamping one of the prizes. He had chain'd The approach of home to husbands and to sires, His prisoners, dividing them like chapters,
After long travelling by land or water, In number'd lots: they all had cuffs and collars; Most naturally some small doubt inspires And averaged cach from ten to a hundred dollars. A female family's a serious inatter;
(None trusts the sex more, or so much adınires
But they hate Nattery, so I never flatter:) • Dante calls his wife, in the Inferno, 'La fiera moglie.'
Wives in their husbands' absences grow subtler, A Milton's firs: wise ran away from hiin.
And daughters seinetimes run off with the butler:
XXX. An honest gentleman, at his return,
And, further on, a troop of Grecian girls, May not have the good fortune of Ulysses;
The first and tallest her white kerchief waving, Not all lone matrons for their husbands mourn,
Were strung together like a row of pearls, Or show the same dislike to suitors' kisses.
Link'd hand in hand, and dancing : each too The odds are that he finds a handsome urn
having To his memory-and two or three young misses Down her white neck long floating auburn curls Born to some friend, who holds his wife and riches
(The least of which would set ten poets raving): And that his Argus bites him by-the breeches. Their leader sang; and bounded to her song, XXIV.
With choral step and voice, the virgin throng. If single, probably his plighted fair
And here, assembled cross-legg'd round their trays, May quarrel; and, the lady growing wiser,
Small social parties just began to dine; He may resume his amatory care
Pilaus and meats of all sorts met the gaze, As cavalier servente, or despise her ;
And flasks of Samian and of Chian wine, And that his sorrow may not be a dumb one,
And sherbet cooling in the porous vase : Write odes on the Inconstancy of Woman.
Above them their dessert grew on its vine:
The orange and pomegranate, nodding o'er,
Dropp'd in their laps, scarce pluck'd, their mellow
store. Some chaste liaison of the kind-I mean
XXXII. An honest friendship with a married lady
A band of children, round a snow-white ram, The only thing of this sort ever seen
There wreathe his venerable horns with flowers: To last-of all connections the most steady, And the true Hymen (the first's but a screen)
While, peaceful as if still an unwean'd lamb, Yet, for all that, keep not too long away :
The patriarch of the flock all gently cowers
His sober head, inajestically tame, I've known the absent wrong'd four times a day.
Or eats from out the palm, or playful lowers XXVI.
His brow, as if in act to butt, and then, Lambro, our sea-solicitor, who had
Yielding to their small hands, draws back again. Much less experience of dry land than ocean, On seeing his own chimney-smoke, felt glad ;
XXXIII. But not knowing metaphysics, had no notion Their classical profiles and glittering åresses. of the true reason of his not being sad,
Their large black eyes and soft seraphic cheeks, Or that of any other strong emotion. [her, Crimson as cleft pomegranates, their long tresses, He loved his child, and would have wept the loss of The gesture whichenchants, the eye that speaks, But knew the cause no more than a philosopher.
The innocence which happy childhood blesses,
Made quite a picture of these little Greeks:
So that the philosophical beholder
Sigh'd for their sakes, that they should e'er grow
older. He heard his rivulet's light bubbling run,
XXXIV. The distant dog-bark; and perceived, between
Afar, a dwarf buffoon stood telling tales The umbrage of the wood, so cool and dun,
Toa sedate grey circle of old smokers, The moving figures, and the sparkling sheen
of secret treasures found in hidden vales, Of arms (in the East, all arm)—and various dyes
Of wonderful replies from Arab jokers, Of colour'd garbs, as bright as butterflies.
Of charms to make good gold and cure bad ails, XXVIII.
Of rocks bewitch'd that open to the knockers; And as the spot where they appear he nears, Of magic ladies who, by one sole act,
Surprised at these unwonted signs of idling, Transform'd their lords to beasts (but that's a fact)
Here was no lack of innocent diversion
For the imagination or the senses ; A pipe, too, and a drum, and shortly after,
Song, dance, wine, music, stories from the Persian, A most unoriental roar of laughter.
All pretty pastimes in which no offence is :
But Lambro saw all these things with aversion, XXIX.
Perceiving in his absence such expenses, And still more nearly to the place advancing,
Dreading that climax of all human ills, Descending rather quickly the declivity,
The inflammation of his weekly bills. Through the waved branches, o'er the green sward 'Midst other indications of festivity, (glancing,
XXXVI. Seeing a troop of his domestics dancing
Ah! what is man? what perils still environ
The happiest mortals, even after dinner!
Is all that life allows the luckiest sinner: