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Revered the soil, of those true sons the mother With a soft besom will I sweep your hulls,
Who butcher'd half the earth,* and bullied t'other.t And brush a web or two from off the walls.
LXXXII.

LXXXV.
A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Oh, Mrs. Fry! Why go to Newgate? Why
Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye

Preach to poor rogues? And wherefore not begin Could reach, with here and there a sail just skip

With Carlton, or with other houses? Try In sight, then lost amidst the forestry (ping

Your hand at harden'd and imperial sin Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping

To mend the people's an absurdity, On tip-toe through their sea-coal canopy;

A jargon, a mere philanthropic din, A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown

Unless you make their betters better. Fie!
On a fool's head and there is London Town! I thought you had more religion, Mrs. Fry.

LXXXVI.
LXXXIII.

Teach them the decencies of good threescore: But Juan saw not this : each wreath of smoke

Cure them of tours, hussar and highland dresses; Appear'd to him but as the magic vapour

Tell them that youth once gone returns no more ; Of some alchymic furnace, from whence broke

That hired huzzas redeem no land's distresses. The wealth of worlds (a wealth of tax and paper):

Tell them Sir William Curtis is a bore, The gloomy clouds, which o'er it as a yoke

Too dull even for the dullest of excesses, Are bow'd, and put the sun out like a taper,

The witless Falstaff of a hoary Hal, Were nothing but the natural atmosphere,

A fool whose bells have ceased to ring at all.
Extremely wholesome, though but rarely clear.

LXXXVII.
LXXXIV.

Tell them, though it may be perhaps too late
He paused-and so will I; as doth a crew

On life's worn confine, jaded, bloated, sated, Before they give their broadside. By and by,

To set up vain pretences of being great, My gentle countrymen, we will renew

'Tis not so to be good; and be it stated, Our old acquaintance; and at least I'll try

The worthiest kings have ever loved least state. To tell you truths you will not take as true,

And tell them But you won't, and I have Because they are so. A male Mrs. Fry,

prated

Just now enough: but by-and-by I'll prattle,
* India.
† America.

Like Roland's horn in Roncesvalles' battle.

CANTO THE ELEVENTH.

IV.
If it be chance; or if it be according

To the old text, still better. Lest it should
Turn out so, we'll say nothing 'gainst the wording,

As several people think such hazards rude.
They're right : our days are too brief for affordiny

Space to dispute what no one ever could
Decide, and everybody one day will
Know very clearly-or at least lie still.

1. WHEN Bishop Berkeley said 'there was no matter,

And proved it—'twas no matter what he said :
They say his system 'tis in vain to batter,

Too subtle for the airiest human head;
And yet who can believe it? I would shatter

Gladly all inatters down to stone or lead,
Or adamant, to find the world a spirit,
And wear my head, denying that I wear it.

II.
What a sublime discovery 'twas to make the

Universe universal Egotism !
That all's ideal all ourselves : I'll stake the

World (be it what you will) that that's no schism.
Oh, Doubt :-if thou be'st Doubt, for which some

take thee,
But which I doubt extremely-thou sole prism
of the Truth's rays, spoil not my draught of spirit,
Heaven's brandy, though our brain can hardly
bear it.

III.
For ever and anon comes Indigestion

(Not the most dainty Ariel'), and perplexes Our soarings with another sort of question ;

And that which, after all, my spirit vexes,
Is, that I find no spot where man can rest eye on,

Without confusion of the sorts and sexes
Of beings, stars, and this unriddled wonder,
The world, which at the worst's a glorious blunder,

And therefore will I leave off metaphysical

Discussion, which is neither here nor there :
If I agree that what is, is: then this I call

Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair.
The truth is, I've grown lately rather phthisical:

I don't know what the reason is--the air,
Perhaps; but, as I suffer from the shocks
Of illness, I grow much more orthodox.

VI.
The first attack at once proved the Divinity

(But that I never doubted, nor the Devil);
The next, the Virgin's mystical virginity;

The third, the usual Origin of Evil ;
The fourth at once established the whole Trinity

On so incontrovertible a level,
That I devoutly wish'd the threc were four,
On purpose to believe so much the more.

VII.

Who fell, as rolls an ox o'er in his pasture, To our theme : The man who has stood on the And roar'd out, as he writhed his native mud in, Acropolis,

Unto his nearest follower or henchman, And look'd down over Attica; or he

O Jack ! I'm floor'd by that 'ere bloody French. Who has sail'd where picturesque Constantinople is,

man I

XIV.
Or seen Timbuctoo, or hath taken tea
In small-eyed China's crockery-ware metropolis,

On which Jack and his train set off at speed;
Or sat amidst the bricks of Nineveh,

And Juan's suite, late scatter'd at a distance, May not think much of London's first appearance;

Came up, all marvelling at such a deed, But ask him what he thinks of it a year hence.

And offering, as usual, late assistance.

Juan, who saw the moon's late minion bleed
VII.

As if his veins would pour out his existence,
Don Juan had got out on Shooter's Hill :

Stood calling out for bandages and lint, Sunset the time, the place the same declivity

And wish'd he'd been less hasty with his fliut. Which looks along that vaté of good and ill

XV. Where London streets ferment in full activity; While everything around was calm and still, "Perhaps,' thought he, 'it is the country's wont Except the creak of wheels, which on their

To welcome foreigners in this way: now

I recollect some innkeepers who don't pivot he Heard; and that bee-like, bubbling, busy hum

Differ, except in robbing with a bow

In lieu of a bare blade and brazen front. Of cities, that boil over with their scum.

But what is to be done? I can't allow 1X

The fellow to lie groaning on the road: I say Don Juan, wtapt in contemplation,

So take him up ; I'll help you with the load.
Walk'd on behind his carriage, o'er the summit;

XVI.
And lost in wonder of so great a nation,
Gave way to it, since he could not o'ercome it.

But ere they could perform this pious duty,
And here,' he cried, 'is Freedom's chosen station;

The dying man cried, 'Hold ! I've got my gruel Here peals the people's voice, nor can entomb it

Oh for a glass of max !* We've miss'd our booty; Racks, prisons, inquisitions ; resurrection

Let me die where I am!' And as the fuel Awaits it, each new meeting or election.

Of life shrunk in his heart, and thick and sooty

The drops fell from his death-wound, and he X.

drew ill .Here are chaste wives, pure lives: here people His breath, he from his swelling throat untied pay

A kerchief, crying, 'Give Sal that i-and died. But what they please; and, if that things be dear

XVII. 'Tis only that they love to throw away Their cash, to show how much they have a year.

The cravat, stain’d with bloody drops, fell down Here laws are all inviolate; none lay

Before Don Juan's feet: he could not tell Traps for the traveller; every highway's clear:

Exactly why it was before him thrown, Here he was interrupted by a knife,

(life!

Nor what the meaning of the man's farewell. With Damn your eyes ! your money or your

Poor Tom was once a kiddy upon town,

A thorough varmint, and a real swell,
XI.

Full Aash, all fancy, until fairly diddled,
These freeborn sounds proceeded from four pads, His pockets first, and then his body, riddled.
In acibash laid, who had perceived himn loiter

XVIII.
Behind his carriage ; and, like handy lads,
Had seized the lucky hour to reconnoitre,

Don Juan, having done the best he could
In which the heedless gentleman who gads

In all the circumstances of the case, Upon the road, unless he prove a fighter,

As soon as Crowner's quest' llow'd, pursued May find himself, within that isle of riches,

His travels to the capital apace; Exposed to lose his life as well as breeches.

Esteeming it a little hard he should

In twelve hours' tiine, and very little space,
XII.

Have been obliged to slay a free-born native
Juan, who did not understand a word

In self-defence: this made him meditative.
Of Enbn.jh, save their shibboleth 'God damn
And even that he had so rarely heard,

XIX
He sometimes thought 'twas only their 'Salam,'

He from the world had cut off a great mani, Or 'God be with you l' and 'tis not absurd

Who in his time had made heroic bustle. To think so; for, half English as I am

Who, in a row, like Toi could lead the van, (To my misfortune), never can I say

Booze in the ken, or at the spellken hustle I heard them wish God with you,' save that way.

Who queer a flat? Who (spite of Bow Street's ban)

On the highi toby-spice so flash the muzzle ? XIII. Juan yet quickly understood their gesture ;

Who, on a lark, witti black-eyed Sal (his blowing.)

So paime, so swell, so nutty, and so knowing it And, being somewhat choleric and sudden; Drew forth a pocket pistol from his vesture, And fired it into one assailant's pudding

† The advance of science and of language has ren

• Gm.

XX.

The breadth of pavement, and yon shrine where But Toni's no more and so no more of Tom.

fame is Heroes must die; and, by God's blessing, 'tis A spectral resident-whose pallid beam Not long before the most of them go home.

In shape of moonshine hovers o'er the pileHail ! Thamis, hail! Upon thy verge it is Make this a sacred part of Albion's isle. That Juan's chariot, rolling like a drum

XXV. In thunder, holds the way it can't well miss,

The Druids' groves are gone-so much the better : Through Kennington and all the other tons,

Stonehenge is not-but what the devil is it? Which make us wish ourselves in town at once: But Bedlam still exists with its sage fetter, XXI.

That madmen may not bite you, on a visis.

The Bench, too, seats or suits full many a debtor : Through Groves, so call'd as being void of trees (Like lucus, from no light); through prospects

The Mansion House, too (though some people named

quiz it), Mount Pleasant, as containing naught to please, To me appears a stiff yet grand erection ;

But then the Abbey's worth the whole collection. Nor much to climb; through little boxes framed of bricks, to let the dust in at your ease,

XXVI.
With ‘To be let' upon their doors proclaimed ; The line of lights, too, up to Charing Cross,
Through .Rows' most modestly call'd 'Paradise,' Pall Mall, and so forth, have a coruscation,
Which Eve might quit without much sacrifice: Like gold as in comparison to dross,

Match'd with the Continent's illumination,
XXII

Whose cities Night by no means deigns to gloss. Through coaches, drays, choked turnpikes, and a

The French were not yet a lamplighting nation ; whirl

And when they grew so- on their new-found Of wheels, and roar of voices, and confusion:

lantern, Here taverns wooing to a pint of purl :'.

Instead of wicks, they made a wicked man turn. There mails fast flying off like a delusion :

XXVII.
There barbers' blocks with periwigs in curl
In windows: here the lamplighter's infusion

A row of gentlemen along the streets
Slowly distill'd into the glimmering glass

Suspended, may illuminate mankind,

As also bonfires made of country seats; (For in those days we had not got to gas);

But the old way is best for the purblind :
XXIII.

The other looks like phosphorus on sheets, Through this, and much, and more, is the ap- A sort of ignis fatuus to the mind, proach

Which, though 'tis certain to perple and frighten, Of travellers to mighty Babylon:

Must burn more brightly ere it

can enlighten. Whether they come by horse, or chaise, or coach,

With slight exceptions all the ways seem one. But London's so w. en lit, that if Diogenes I could say more, but do not choose to encroach

Could recommence to hunt his honest max, Upon the Guide-book's privilege. The sun

And fourå him not amidst the various progenies Had set some time, and night was on the ridge

Of this enormous city's spreading spawn, Of twilight, as the party cross'd the bridge.

'Twere not for want of lamps to aid his dodging his XXIV.

Yet undiscover'd treasure. What I can, That's rather fine, the gentle sound of Thamis

I've done to find the same, throughout life's journey, Who vindicates a moment, too, his stream

But see the world is only one attorney. Though hardly heard through multifarious

XXIX. clamine's.'

Over the stones still rattling, up Pall Mall, The lamps of Westminster's more regular gleam, Through crowds, and carriages -- but waxing

thinner, dered it unnecessary to translate the above good and As thunder'd knockers broke the long-seal'd spell true English, spoken in its original purity by the

Of doors 'gainst duns, and to an early dinner select mobility and their patrons. The following is a stanza of a song which was very popular, at least in

Adinitted a sinall party, as night fell my early days:

Don Juan, our young diplomatic sinner, • On the high toby-spice flash the muzzle,

Pursued his path, and drove past some hotels,
In spite of each gallows old scout:
If you at the spellken can't hustle,

St. James's Palace, and St. James's 'Hells."*
You'll be hobbled in making a clout.

XXX • Then your Blowing will wax gallows haughty,

They reached the hotel: forth stream'd from the When she hears of your scaly mistake,

front door She'll surely turn snitch for the forty,

A tide of well-clad waiters, and around That her Jack may be regular weight.' If there be any gem'man so ignorant as to require a * 'Hells,' gaming-houses. What their number may translation, I refer him to my old friend and corporeal be 110w in this life now not. Before I was of age, pastor and master, John Jackson, Esq., Professor of I knew them pretty accurately, both 'gold' ani! Pugilism; who, I trust, still retains the strength and silver. I was once nearly called out by an acquainsymmetry of his model of a form, together with his tance, because, when he asked me where I thought good huinour, and athletic as well as inental accom- that his soul would be found hereafter, I answered, plishments.

In Silver Hell.

XXII

The mob stood, and, as usual, several score

Historians, heroes, lawyers, priests, to put
Of those pedestrian Paphians who abound

A fact without some leaven of a lie.
In decent London, when the daylight's o'er; The very shadow of true Truth would shut
Commodious but immoral, they are found

Up annals, revelations, poesy,
Useful, like Malthus, in promoting marriage- And prophecy-except it should be dated
But Juan now, in stepping from his carriage

Some years before the incidents related
XXXI.

XXXVIII.
Into one of the sweetest of hotels,

Praised be all liars and all lies! Who now Especially for foreigners and mostly

Can tax my mild Muse with misanthropy ? For those whom favour or whom fortune swells, She rings the world's 'Te Deum,' and her brow And cannot find a bill's small items costly.

Blushes for those who will not ;--but to sigh There many an envoy either dwelt or dwells

Is idle. Let us, like most others, bow, (The den of many a diplomatic lost lie)

Kiss hands, feet, any part of majesty, Until to some conspicuous square they pass,

After the good example of Green Erin,' And blazon o'er the door their names in brass, Whose shamrock now seems rather worse for XXXII.

wearing

XXXIX.
Juan, whose was a delicate commission,

Don Juan was presented, and his dress
Private, though publicly important, bore
No title to point out, with due precision,

And mien excited general admiration

I don't know which was more admired, or less; The exact affair on which he was sent o'er.

One monstrous diamond drew much observation, 'Twas merely known that, on a secret mission,

Which Catharine in a moment of ivresse A foreigner of rank had graced our shore,

(In love or brandy's fervent fermentation) Young, handsome, and accomplish'd, who was said

Bestow'd upon him, as the public learn'd; (In whispers) to have turned his sovereign's head.

And, to say truth, it had been fairly earned
XXXIII.

XL.
Some rumour, also, of some strange adventures

Besides the ministers and underlings,
Had gone before him, and his wars and loves;
And as romantic heads are pretty painters,

Who must be courteous to the accredited
And, above all, an Englishwoman's roves

Diplomatists of rather wavering kings, Into the excursive, breaking the indentures

Until their royal riddle's fully read; Of sober reason, wheresoe'er it moves,

The very clerks—those somewhat dirty springs

Of office, or the house of office, fed He found himself extremely in the fashion,

By foul corruption into streams-even they
Whics seryes our thinking people for a passion.

Were hardly rude enough to earn their pay :
XXXIV.

XLI.
I don't mean that they are passionless, but quite

And insolence, no doubt, is what they are The contrary; but then it's in the head.

Employ'd for, since it is their daily labour, Yet as the consequences are as bright

In the dear offices of peace or war; As if they acted with the heart instead,

And should you doubt, pray ask of your next What, after all, can signify the site

neighbour, Of ladies' lucubrations? So they lead

When for a passport, or some other bar In safety to the place for which you start,

To freedom, hc applied (a grief and a bore), What matters if the road be head or heart?

If he found not in this spawn of laxborn riches, XXXV.

Like lap-dogs, the least civil sons of bs. Juan presented, in the proper place,

XLII. To proper placemen, every Russ credential;

But Juan was received with much empressement :And was received with all the due grimace

These phrases of refinement I must borrow By those who govern in the mood potential;

From our next neighbours' land, where, like a Who, seeing a handsome stripling with smooth face,

chessman, Thought (what in state affairs is most essential)

There is a move set down for joy or sorrow, That they as easily might do the youngster,

Not only in mere talking, but the press. Man, As hawks may pounce upon a woodland songster. In islands, is, it seems, downright and thorough, XXXVI.

More than on continents--as if the sea They err'd, as aged men will do: but by

(See Billingsgate) made even the tongue more free. And-by we'll talk of that: and if we don't,

XLIII. 'Twill be because our notion is not high

And yet the British Damme''s rather Attic: Of politicians and their double front,

Your continental oaths are but incontinent, Who live by lies, yet dare not boldly lie.

And turn on things which no aristocratic Now what I love in woman is, they wont

Spirit would name, and therefore even I won't Or can't do otherwise than lie, but do it

anent So well, the very truth seems falsehood to it. XXXVII.

*. Anent' was a Scotch phrase, meaning "conAnd, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but

cerning-with regard to." It has been made

English by the Scotch novels; and, as the FrenchThe truth in masquerade; and I defy

man said, "if it be not, ought to be, English,

L.

This subject quote; as it would be schismatic Of payınent ere the honeymoon's last kisses

In politesse, and have a sound affronting in't : Have waned into a crescent's coruscation,
But • Damme''s quite ethereal, though too daring ; Though such an opportunity as this is,
Platonic blasphemy, the soul of swearing.

Of a rich foreigner's initiation,
XLIV.

Not to be overlooked-and gave such credit, For downright rudeness, you may stay at home;

That future bridegrooms swore, and sigh'd, and For true or false politeness (and scarce that

paid it. Now) you may cross the blue deep and white

The Blues, that tender tribe, who sigh o'er sonnets, foam

And with the pages of the last Review The first the emblem (rarely though) of what

Line the interior of their heads or bonnets, You leave behind, the next of much you come

Advanced in all their azure's highest hue; To meet. However, 'tis no time to chat

They talk'd bad French or Spanish, and upon its On general topics: poems must confine

Late authors ask'd him for a hint or two;
Themselves to unity, like this of mine

And which was softest, Russian or Castilian;
XLV.

And whether in his travels he saw Ilion.
In the great world-which, being interpreted,

LI. Meaneth the west or worst end of a city,

Juan, who was a little superficial, And about twice two thousand people, bred

And not in literature a great Drawcansir,
By no means to be very wise or witty,

Examin'd by this learn'd and especial
But to sit up while others lie in bed,
And look down on the universe with pity-

Jury of matrons, scarce knew what to answer;

His duties, warlike, loving, or official,
Juan, as an inveterate patrician,
Was well received by persons of condition.

His steady application as a dancer,

Had kept him from the brink of Hippocrene,
XLVI.

Which now he found was Llue instead of green. He was a bachelor, which is a matter

LIT.
Of import both to virgin and to bride,
The former's hymenea! hopes to flatter;

However, he replied at hazard, with

A modest confidence and calm assurance, And (should she not hold fast by love or pride) 'Tis also of some moment to the latter:

Which lent his learned lucubrations pith, A rib's a thorn in a wed gallant's side,

And pass'd for arguments of good endurance. Requires decorum, and is apt to double

That prodigy, Miss Araminta Smith The horrid sin-and, what's still worse, the trouble.

(Who at sixteen translated Hercules Furons

Into as furious English), with her best look,
XLVII.

Set down his sayings in her commonplace book.
But Juan was a bachelor-of arts,
And parts, and hearts: he danced and sung, and

LIII. An air as sentimental as Mozart's

(had

Juan knew several languages-as well Softest of melodies, and could be sad

He might-and brought them up with skill, in time Or cheerful, without any 'flaws or starts,

To save his fame with each accomplish'd belle, Just at the proper time; and though a lad,

Who still regretted that he did not rhyme. Had seen the world—which is a curious sight,

There wanted but this requisite to swell And very much unlike what people write.

His qualities (with them) into sublime;

Lady Fitz-Frisky, and Miss Mævia Mannish, XLVIII. Fair virgins blush'd upon him ; wedded dames

Both long'd extremely to be sung in Spanish. Bloom'd also in less transitory hues;

LIV. For both commodities dwell by the Thames,

However, he did pretty well, and was The painting and the painted: youth, ceruse,

Admitted as an aspirant to all Against his heart preferred their usual claims,

The cotcries, and, as in Banquo's glass, Such as no gentleman can quite reflise :

At great assemblies or in parties small, Daughters admired his dress, and pious mothers

He saw ten thousand living authors pass, Inquired his income, and if he had l»others.

That being about their average numeral:

Also the mighty 'greatest living poets,'
XLIX.
The milliners who furnish drapery laisses,'*

As every paltry magazine can show ils.
Throughout the season, upon speculation

LV.

In twice five years the greatest living poet,' *Drapery Misses.' This term is probably any. Like to the champion in the fisty ring, thing now but a mystery. It was, however, almost so to me, when I first returned from the East in 1811-1812. It means a pretty, a high-born, a fi:shionable young assured me that the thing was common in London ; female, well instructed by her friends, and furnished and as her own thousands, and blooming looks, and by her milliner with a wardrobe upon credit, to be rich simplicity of array, put any suspicion in her own repaid, when married, by her husband The riddle case out of the question, I confess I gave soine credit was first read to me by a young and pretty heiress, on to the allegation. If necessary, authorities might be my praising the drapery of the unlochered" but cited, in which case I could quote both drapery'and pretty virginities' (like Mrs. Ann Page) of the then the wearers. Let us hope, however, that it is now day, which has now been some years yesterday. She obsolete.

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