LXXXIV.

And here Juanna kindly interposed,

And said she felt herself extremely well
Where she then was, as her sound sleep disclosed,
When all around rang like a tocsin bell:
She did not find herself the least disposed
To quit her gentle partner, and to dwell
Apart from one who had no sin to show,
Save that of dreaming once "mal-a-propos."
LXXXV.

As thus Juanna spoke, Dudù turn'd round,
And hid her face within Juanna's breast;
Her neck alone was seen, but that was found
The color of a budding rose's crest.

I can't tell why she blush'd, nor can expound
The mystery of this rupture of their rest:
All that I know is, that the facts I state
Are true as truth has ever been of late.

LXXXVI.

And so good night to them, or, if you will,
Good morrow-for the cock had crown, and light
Began to clothe each Asiatic hill,

And the mosque crescent struggled into sight
Of the long caravan, which in the chill

Of dewy dawn wound slowly round each height That stretches to the stony belt which girds Asia, where Kaff looks down upon the Kurds.

LXXXVII.

With the first ray, or rather gray of morn,
Gulbeyaz rose from restlessness; and pale
As Passion rises, with its bosom worn,

Array'd herself with mantle, gem, and veil.
The nightingale that sings with the deep thorn,
Which fable places in her breast of wail,
Is lighter far of heart and voice than those
Whose headlong passions form their proper woes.

LXXXVIII.

And that's the moral of this composition,

If people would but see its real drift ;But that they will not do without suspicion, Because all gentle readers have the gift Of closing 'gainst the light their orbs of vision; While gentle writers also love to lift Their voices 'gainst each other, which is naturalThe numbers are too great for them to flatter all.

LXXXIX.

Rose the sultana from a bed of splendor,-
Softer than the soft Sybarite's, who cried
Aloud, because his feelings were too tender
To brook a ruffled rose-leaf by his side,-
So beautiful that art could little mend her,
Though pale with conflicts between love and pride:
So agitated was she with her error,
She did not even look into the mirror.

XC.

Also arose, about the self-same time,
Perhaps a little later, her great lord,
Master of thirty kingdoms so sublime,

And of a wife by whom he was abhorr'd;
A thing of much less import in that clime-
At least to those of incomes which afford
The filling up their whole connubial cargo-
Than where two wives are under an embargo.

know.

C.

Baba, with some embarrassment, replied

To this long catechism of questions, ask'd More easily than answer'd,-that he had tried His best to obey in what he had been task'd; But there seem'd something that he wish'd to hide, Which hesitation more betray'd than mask'd; He scratch'd his ear, the infallible resource To which embarrass'd people have recourse. CI.

Gulbeyaz was no model of true patience,

Nor much disposed to wait in word or deed; She liked quick answers in all conversations;

And when she saw him stumbling like a steed In his replies, she puzzled him for fresh ones; And as his speech grew still more broken-kneed, Her cheek began to flush, her eyes to sparkle, And her proud brow's blue veins to swell and darkle.

CII.

When Baba saw these symptoms, which he knew
To bode him no great good, he deprecated
Her anger, and beseech'd she'd hear him through-
He could not help the thing which he related:
Then, out it came at length, that to Dudu

Juan was given in charge, as hath been stated; But not by Baba's fault, he said, and swore on The holy camel's hump, besides the Koran.

CIII.

The chief dame of the Oda, upon whom
The discipline of the whole haram bore,
As soon as they reenter'd their own room,
For Baba's function stopp'd short at the door,
Had settled all: nor could he then presume

(The aforesaid Baba) just then to do more, Without exciting such suspicion as Might make the matter still worse than it was.

CIV.

He hoped, indeed he thought, he could be sure
Juan had not betray'd himself; in fact,
Twas certain that his conduct had been pure,
Because a foolish or imprudent act
Would not alone have made him insecure,

But ended in his being found out and sack'd,
And thrown into the sea.-Thus Baba spoke
Of all save Dudu's dream, which was no joke.

CVII.

She stood a moment, as a Pythoness

Stands on her tripod, agonized, and full Of inspiration gather'd from distress,

When all the heart-strings like wild horses pull The heart asunder;-then, as more or less

Their speed abated, or their strength grew dull, She sunk down on her seat by slow degrees, And bow'd her throbbing head o'er trembling knees.

CVIII.

Her face declined, and was unseen; her hair
Fell in long tresses like the weeping willow
Sweeping the marble underneath her chair
Or rather sofa, (for it was all pillow,-

A low, soft ottoman,) and black despair

Stirr'd up and down her bosom like a billow, Which rushes to some shore, whose shingles check Its farther course, but must receive its wreck.

CIX.

Her head hung down, and her long hair in stooping
Conceal'd her features better than a veil ;
And one hand o'er the ottoman lay drooping.
White, waxen, and as alabaster pale;
Would that I were a painter! to be grouping
All that a poet drags into detail!

Oh that my words were colors! but their tints
May serve, perhaps, as outlines or slight hints.

CX.

Baba, who knew by experience when to talk
And when to hold his tongue, now held it till
This passion might blow o'er, nor dared to balk
Gulbeyaz' taciturn or speaking will.

At length she rose up, and began to walk
Slowly along the room, but silent still,
And her brow clear'd, but not her troubled eve-
The wind was down, but still the sea ran high.

CXI.

She stopp'd, and raised her head to speak- hnt paused,

And then moved on again with rapid pace; Then slacken'd it, which is the march most caused By deep emotion:-you may sometimes trace A feeling in each footstep, as disclosed By Sallust in his Catiline, who, chased By all the demons of all passions, show'à Their work even by the way in which he trode

V.

Socrates said, our only knowledge was,

"To know that nothing could be known;" a Science enough, which levels to an ass

Each man of wisdom, future, past, or present. Newton, (that proverb of the mind,) alas! Declared, with all his grand discoveries recent, That he himself felt only "like a youth Picking up shells by the great ocean-Truth." VI.

Ecclesiastes said, that all is vanity

Most modern preachers say the same, or show it By their examples of true Christianity;

In short, all know, or very soon may know it; And in this scene of all-confess'd inanity,

By saint, by sage, by preacher, and by poet, Must I restrain me, through the fear of strife, From holding up the nothingness of life?

And walls as thick as most skulls born as yet: Two batteries, cap-à-pié, as our Saint George, Case-mated one, and 'tother a "barbette, ' Of Danube's bank took formidable charge; While two-and-twenty cannon, duly set, Rose o'er the town's right side, in bristling tier Forty feet high, upon a cavalier.

XIII.

But from the river the town's open quite,

Because the Turks could never be persuaded A Russian vessel e'er would heave in sight; And such their creed was, till they were invaried When it grew rather late to set things right.

But as the Danube could not well be waded,
They look'd upon the Muscovite flotilla,
And only shouted, "Allah!" and "Bis Millah!"
XIV.

The Russians now were ready to attack;
But oh, ye goddesses of war and glory!
How shall I spell the name of each Cossack
Who were immortal, could one tell their story
Alas! what to their memory can lack?

Than thousands of this new and polish'd nation,
Achilles' self was not more grim and gory
Whose names want nothing but-pronunciation
XV.

Still I'll record a few, if but to increase

[noff,

Our euphony-there was Strongenoff, and Stroko Meknop, Serge Lwow, Arseniew of modern Greece, And Tschitsshakoff, and Roguenoff, and ChokeAnd others of twelve consonants apiece:

[noff,

And more might be found out, if I could poke

enough

Into gazettes; but Fame, (capricious strumpet!) It seems, has got an ear as well as trumpet,

XVI.

And cannot tune those discords of narration,

Which may be names at Moscow, into rhyme, Yet there were several worth commemoration, As e'er was virgin of a nuptial chime;

Soft words, too, fitted for the peroration

Of Londonderry, drawing against time, Ending in "ischskin," "ousckin," "iffskchy,

"ouski,"

Of whom we can insert but Rousamouski,

XVII.

Scherematoff and Chrematoff, Koklophti, Koclobski, Kourakin, and Mouskin Pouskin All proper men of weapons, as e'er scoff'd high. Against a foe, or ran a sabre through skin: Little cared they for Mahomet or Mufti,

Unless to make their kettle-drums a new skin Out of their hides, if parchment had grown dear, And no more handy substitute been near.

XVIII.

Then there were foreigners of much renown,
Of various nations, and all volunteers;
Not fighting for their country or its crown,
But wishing to be one day brigadiers;
Also to have the sacking of a town-

A pleasant thing to young men at their years 'Mongst them were several Englishmen of pith, Sixteen call'd Thompson, and nineteen named Smith.