XC. Had Bonaparte won at Waterloo, It had been firmness; now 't is pertinacity: Who in her way too was a heroine. XCI. She knew not her own heart; then how should I? (I will not say it was a false or true one) In him, because she thought he was in danger Her husband's friend, her own, young, and a stranger, XCII. She was, or thought she was, his friend-and this Ladies who have studied friendship but in France, Or Germany, where people purely kiss. To thus much Adeline would not advance; But of such friendship as man's may to man be, XCIII. No doubt the secret influence of the sex L And tune the concord to a finer mood. XCIV. Love bears within its breast the very germ Is shown through nature's whole analogies : Would you have endless lightning in the skies? Methinks love's very title says enough: How should "the tender passion" e'er be tough? XCV. Alas! by all experience, seldom yet (I merely quote what I have heard from many) Had lovers not some reason to regret The passion which made Solomon a zany. The marriage state, the best or worst of any) XCVI. I've also seen some female friends ('t is odd, Upon me; whom no scandal could remove; Who fought, and fight, in absence too, my battles, Despite the snake society's loud rattles. XCVII. Whether Don Juan and chaste Adeline To leave them hovering, as the effect is fine, XCVIII. Whether they rode, or walk'd, or studied Spanish, To read Don Quixote in the original, A pleasure before which all others vanish; Whether their talk was of the kind call'd "small," Or serious, are the topics I must banish To the next canto; where, perhaps, I shall Say something to the purpose, and display Considerable talent in my way. XCIX. Above all, I beg all men to forbear Than I have yet done in this epic satire. It is not clear that Adeline and Juan C. But great things spring from little : :--would you That, in our youth, as dangerous a passion As e'er brought man and woman to the brink Of ruin, rose from such a slight occasion As few would ever dream could form the link Of such a sentimental situation? think, You'll never guess, I'll bet you millions, milliards— It all sprung from a harmless game at billiards. CI. 'T is strange-but true; for truth is always strange, The new world would be nothing to the old, CII. What "antres vast and deserts idle" then Of those who hold the kingdoms in control! NOTES TO CANTO XIV. Note 1. Stanza xxxiii. And never craned, and made but few faux pas. Craning "To crane" is, or was, an expression used to denote a gentleman's stretching out his neck over a hedge, "to look before he leaped: -a pause in his '' vaulting ambition," which in the field doth occasion some delay and execration in those who may be immediately behind the equestrian sceptic. "Sir, if you don't chuse to take the leap, let me "—was a phrase which generally sent the aspirant on again; and to good purpose: for though "the horse and rider" might fall, they made a gap, through which, and over him and his steed, the field might follow. Note 2. Stanza xlviii. Go to the coffee-house, and take another. In SWIFT'S or HORACE WALPOLE's Letters I think it is mentioned, that somebody regretting the loss of a friend, was answered by a universal Pylades: "When I lose one, I go to the Saint James's Coffee-house, and take another." I recollect having heard an anecdote of the same kind. Sir W. D. was a great gamester. Coming in one day to the club of which he was a member, he was observed to look melancholy. "What is the matter, Sir William ?" cried Hare, of facetious memory. "Ah." replied Sir W. "I have just lost poor Lady D," Lost! What at?-Quinze or Hasard?" was the consolatory rejoinder of the querist. Note 3. Stanza lix. And I refer you to wise Oxenstiern. The famous Chancellor Oxenstiern said to his son, on the latter expressing his surprise upon the great effects arising from petty causes in the presumed mystery of politics: "You see by this, my son, with how little wisdom the kingdoms of the world are governed." 1 CANTO XV. I. AH !————What should follow slips from my As apropos of hope or retrospection, reflection As though the lurking thought had follow'd free. All present life is but an interjection, An "Oh!" or "Ah!" of joy or misery, Or a Ha! ha!" or "Bah!"- -a yawn, or Of which perhaps the latter is most true. II. But, more or less, the whole 's a syncope, "Pooh !". Wherewith we break our bubbles on the ocean, That watery outline of eternity, Or miniature at least, as is my notion, Which ministers unto the soul's delight, In seeing matters which are out of sight. III. But all are better than the sigh supprest, A corner for herself; and therefore fiction Is that which passes with least contradiction. IV. Ah! who can tell? or rather, who can not Remember, without telling, passion's errors ? The drainer of oblivion, even the sot, Hath got blue devils for his morning mirrors: |