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presented 
to 

Gbe  Xibrarp 


of 


College 


of  Toronto 


professor  Hlfreo 

15,  1941 


r 


Poetical   Works 


OF 


LORD    BYRON 


./'IT,,,     i/'i/Hfl  nil  /'if  ^.  •  //i"  ///!•••>  /i-  '!t//<''//i/  tn 
t/ir  /ii'.i.ir.kiifii    iy  f/it-  i«(i     ////<//     y/,  i-ii  i/i/i, 


The  Works 


LORD    BYRON 


A  NEW,  REVISED  AND  ENLARGED  EDITION, 
WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Poetry.     Vol.  VI. 

EDITED   BY 

ERNEST   HARTLEY   COLERIDGE,  M.A., 

HON.  F.R.S.L. 


LONDON : 


SEEN  3Y 
PRESERVATION 


•r-r  - 
'• 


DATE 


198 


JOHN   MURRAY,   ALBEMARLE  STREET. 

NEW  YORK:   CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS. 

1903. 


10739^ 


THIS  EDITION 
OF    A    GREAT    POEM 

IS  DEDICATED 

WITH   HIS   PERMISSION 

TO 

ALGERNON   CHARLES   SWINBURNE. 
MDCCCCII. 


PREFACE   TO 
THE   SIXTH   VOLUME. 


THE  text  of  this  edition  of  DonJ-uan  has  been  collated 
with  original  MSS.  in  the  possession  of  the  Lady  Dor- 
chester and  Mr.  John  Murray.  The  fragment  of  a 
Seventeenth  Canto,  consisting  of  fourteen  stanzas,  is  now 
printed  and  published  for  the  first  time. 

I  have  collated  with  the  original  authorities,  and  in 
many  instances  retranscribed,  the  numerous  quotations 
from  Sir  G.  Dalzell's  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea 
(1812,  8vo)  [Canto  II.  stanzas  xxiv.-civ.  pp.  87-112], 
and  from  a  work  entitled  Essai  sur  FHistoire  Andenne  et 
Moderne  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  par  le  Marquis  Gabriel 
de  Castelnau  (1827,  8vo)  [Canto  VII.  stanzas  ix.-liii. 
pp.  304-320,  and  Canto  VIII.  stanzas  vi.-cxxvii.  pp. 
331-368],  which  were  first  included  in  the  notes  to  the 
fifteenth  and  sixteenth  volumes  of  the  edition  of  1833, 
and  have  been  reprinted  in  subsequent  issues  of  Lord 
Byron's  Poetical  Works. 


Vlll  PREFACE  TO   THE   SIXTH   VOLUME. 

A  note  (pp.  495-497)  illustrative  of  the  famous 
description  of  Newstead  Abbey  (Canto  XIII.  stanzas 
Iv.-lxxii.)  contains  particulars  not  hitherto  published. 
My  thanks  and  acknowledgments  are  due  to  Lady 
Chermside  and  Miss  Ethel  Webb,  for  the  opportunity 
afforded  me  of  visiting  Newstead  Abbey,  and  for  in- 
valuable assistance  in  the  preparation  of  this  and  other 
notes. 

The  proof-sheets  of  this  volume  have  been  read 
by  Mr.  Frank  E.  Taylor.  I  am  indebted  to  his  care 
and  knowledge  for  many  important  corrections  and 
emendations. 

I  must  once  more  record  my  gratitude  to  Dr. 
Garnett,  C.B.,  for  the  generous  manner  in  which  he  has 
devoted  time  and  attention  to  the  solution  of  difficulties 
submitted  to  his  consideration. 

I  am  also  indebted,  for  valuable  information,  to  the 
Earl  of  Rosebery,  K.G. ;  to  Mr.  J.  Willis  Clark,  Regis- 
trar of  the  University  of  Cambridge;  to  Mr.  W.  P. 
Courtney;  to  my  friend  Mr.  Thomas  Hutchinson;  to 
Miss  Emily  Jackson,  of  Hucknall  Torkard  ;  and  to  Mr. 
T.  E.  Page,  of  the  Charterhouse. 

On  behalf  of  the  publisher,  I  beg  to  acknowledge  the 
kindness  of  the  Lady  Frances  Trevanion,  Sir  J.  G.  Tolle- 
mache  Sinclair,  Bart.,  and  Baron  Dimsdale,  in  permitting 
the  originals  of  portraits  and  drawings  in  their  possession 
to  be  reproduced  in  this  volume. 


PREFACE   TO   THE   SIXTH   VOLUME.  IX 


NOTE. 

It  was  intended  that  the  whole  of  Lord  Byron's  Poetical 
Works  should  be  included  in  six  volumes,  corresponding  to 
the  six  volumes  of  the  Letters,  and  announcements  to  this 
effect  have  been  made  ;  but  this  has  been  found  to  be  im- 
practicable. The  great  mass  of  new  material  incorporated 
in  the  Introductions,  notes,  and  variants,  has  already  ex- 
panded several  of  the  published  volumes  to  a  dispropor- 
tionate size,  and  Don  Juan  itself  occupies  612  pages. 

Volume  Seven,  which  will  complete  the  work,  will  con- 
tain Occasional  Poems,  Epigrams,  etc.,  a  Bibliography 
more  complete  than  has  ever  hitherto  been  published,  and 
an  exhaustive  Index. 


VOL.  VI. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  VI. 


Dedication v 

Preface  to  Vol.  VI.  of  the  Poems vii 

Introduction  to  DON  JUAN xv 

Dedication  to  Robert  Southey,  Esq 3 

DON  JUAN — 

Canto  I II 

Canto  II 81 

Canto  III 143 

Canto  IV 183 

Canto  V 218 

Preface  to  Cantos  VI.,  VII.,  and  VIII 264 

Canto  VI 268 

Canto  VII 302 

Canto  VIII.  .     , 330 

Canto  IX 373 

Canto  X 400 

Canto  XI .  427 

Canto  XII 45 5, 

Canto  XIII 481 

Canto  XIV 516 

Canto  XV 544 

Canto  XVI 572 

Canto  XVII.  .                                                                    .  608 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


i.  PORTRAIT  OF  LORD  BYRON,  FROM  A  DRAW- 
ING FROM  THE  LIFE  BY  J.  HOLMES, 
FORMERLY  THE  PROPERTY  OF  THE  LATE 

HUGH  CHARLES  TREVANION,  ESQ.        ...     Frontispiece 

z.  WILLIAM  WORDSWORTH,  FROM  THE  POR- 
TRAIT BY  H.  W.  PlCKERSGILL,  R.A.,  IN 

THE  NATIONAL  PORTRAIT  GALLERY      ...     To  face  p.       4 

3.  NINON  DE   LENCLOS,  FROM  A  MINIATURE 

IN  THE  POSSESSION  OF  SIR  J.  G.  TOLLE- 

MACHE  SINCLAIR,  BART.          ...  ...      ,,       ,,     246 

4.  FOUNTAIN  AT  NEWSTEAD  ABBEY  ...      „        „     500 


INTRODUCTION   TO  DON  JUAN, 


BYRON  was  a  rapid  as  well  as  a  voluminous  writer.  His 
Tales  were  thrown  off  at  lightning  speed,  and  even  his 
dramas  were  thought  out  and  worked  through  with  unhesi- 
tating energy  and  rapid  achievement.  Nevertheless,  the 
composition  of  his  two  great  poems  was  all  but  coextensive 
with  his  poetical  life.  He  began  the  first  canto  of  Childe 
Harold  in  the  autumn  of  1809,  and  he  did  not  complete  the 
fourth  canto  till  the  spring  of  1818.  He  began  the  first  canto 
of  Don  Juan  in  the  autumn  of  1818,  and  he  was  still  at 
work  on  a  seventeenth  canto  in  the  spring  of  1823.  Both 
poems  were  issued  in  parts,  and  with  long  intervals  of  un- 
equal duration  between  the  parts  ;  but  the  same  result  was 
brought  about  by  different  causes  and  produced  a  dissimilar 
effect.  Childe  Harold  consists  of  three  distinct  poems  de- 
scriptive of  three  successive  travels  or  journeys  in  foreign 
lands.  The  adventures  of  the  hero  are  but  the  pretext  for 
the  shifting  of  the  diorama  ;  whereas  in  Don  Juan  the  story 
is  continuous,  and  the  scenery  is  exhibited  as  a  background 
for  the  dramatic  evolution  of  the  personality  of  the  hero. 
Childe  Harold  came  out  at  intervals,  because  there  were 
periods  when  the  author  was  stationary ;  but  the  interrup- 
tions in  the  composition  and  publication  of  Don  Juan  were 
due  to  the!  disapproval  and  discouragement  of  friends,  and 
the  very  natural  hesitation  and  procrastination  of  the  pub- 
lisher. Canto  I.  was  written  in  September,  1818  ;  Canto  II. 
in  December — January,  1818-1819.  Both  cantos  were  pub- 
lished on  July  15,  1819.  Cantos  III.,  IV.  were  written  in  the 
winter  of  1819-1820;  Canto  V.,  after  an  interval  of  nine 
months,  in  October — November,  1820,  but  the  publication  of 
Cantos  III.,  IV.,  V.  was  delayed  till  August  8,  1821.  The 
next  interval  was  longer  still,  but  it  was  the  last.  In  June, 
1822,  Byron  began  to  work  at  a  sixth,  and  by  the  end  of 
March,  1823,  he  had  completed  a  sixteenth  canto.  But  the 


XVI  INTRODUCTION   TO   DON  JUAN. 

publication  of  these  later  cantos,  which  had  been  declined 
by  Murray,  and  were  finally  entrusted  to  John  Hunt,  was 
spread  over  a  period  of  several  months.  Cantos  VI.,  VII., 
VIII.,  with  a  Preface,  were  published  July  15  ;  Cantos  IX., 
X.,  XL,  August  29  ;  Cantos  XII.,  XI II.,  XIV.,  December 
17,  1823;  and,  finally,  Cantos  XV.,  XVI.,  March  26,  1824. 
The  composition  of  Don  Juan,  considered  as  a  whole, 
synchronized  with  the  composition  of  all  the  dramas  (except 
Manfred}  and  the  following  poems  :  The  Prophecy  of  Dante, 
(the  translation  of)  The  Morgante  Maggiore,  The  Vision  of 
Judgment,  The  Age  of  Bronze,  and  The  Island. 

There  is  little  to  be  said  with  regard  to  the  "  Sources  "  of 
Don  Jttan.  Frere's  Whistlecraft  had  suggested  Beppo,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  had  prompted  and  provoked  a  sympathetic 
study  of  Frere's  Italian  models,  Berni  and  Pulci  (see  "  Intro- 
duction to  Beppo?  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  155-158;  and 
"  Introduction  to  The  Morgante  Maggiore?  ibid.,  pp.  279- 
281);  and,  again,  the  success  of  Beppo,  and,  still  more,  a 
sense  of  inspiration  and  the  conviction  that  he  had  found 
the  path  to  excellence,  suggested  another  essay  of  the  ottava 
rima,  a  humorous  poem  "  a  la  Beppo?  on  a  larger  and 
more  important  scale.  If  Byron  possessed  more  than  a 
superficial  knowledge  of  the  legendary  "  Don  Juan,"  he  was 
irresponsive  and  unimpressed.  He  speaks  (letter  to  Murray, 
February  16,  1821)  of  "the  Spanish  tradition  ;"  but  there  is 
nothing  to  show  that  he  had  read  or  heard  of  Tirso  de 
Molina's  (Gabriel  Tellez)  El  Burlador  de  Sevilla  y  Con- 
vidado  de  Piedra  (The  Deceiver  of  Seville  and  the  Stone 
Guest],  1626,  which  dramatized  the  "  ower  true  tale  "  of  the 
actual  Don  Juan  Tenorio  ;  or  that  he  was  acquainted  with 
any  of  tne  Italian  (e.g.  Convitato  di  Pietra,  del  Dottor  Gia- 
cinto  Andrea  Cicognini,  Fiorentino  [see  L.  Allacci  Dramma- 
turgia,  1755,  4°,  p.  862])  or  French  adaptations  of  the  legend 
{e.g.  Le  Festin  de  Pierre,  ou  le  fils  criminel,  Tragi-come'die 
de  De  Villiers,  1659  ;  and  Moliere's  Dom  Juan,  ou  Le  Festin 
de  Pierre,  1665).  He  had  seen  (vide  post,  p.  n,  note  2) 
Delpini's  pantomime,  which  was  based  on  Shadwell's  Liber- 
tine, and  he  may  have  witnessed,  at  Milan  or  Venice,  a  per- 
formance of  Mozart's  Don  Giovanni;  but  in  taking  Don 
Juan  for  his  "  hero,"  he  took  the  name  only,  and  disregarded 
the  "  terrible  figure  "  "  of  the  Titan  of  embodied  evil,  the 
likeness  of  sin  made  flesh  "  (see  Selections  from  the  Works  of 
Lord  Byron,  by  A.  C.  Swinburne,  1885,  p.  xxvi.),  "as  some- 
thing to  his  purpose  nothing  "  ! 

Why,  then,  did  he  choose  the  name,  and  what  was  the 
scheme  or  motif  'of  his  poem  ?  Something  is  to  be  gathered 
from  his  own  remarks  and  reflections  ;  but  it  must  be  borne 


INTRODUCTION    TO   DON  JUAN.  XV11 

in  mind  that  he  is  on  the  defensive,  and  that  his  half- 
humorous  paradoxes  were  provoked  by  advice  and  opposition. 
Writing  to  Moore  (September  19,  1818),  he  says,  "I  have 
finished  the  first  canto  ...  of  a  poem  in  the  style  and 
manner  of  Beppo,  encouraged  by  the  good  success  of  the 
same.  It  is  ...  meant  to  be  a  little  quietly  facetious  upon 
every  thing.  But  I  doubt  whether  it  is  not — at  least  as  far 
as  it  has  gone— too  free  for  these  very  modest  days."  The 
critics  before  and  after  publication  thought  that  Don  Juan 
was  "  too  free,"  and,  a  month  after  the  two  first  cantos  had 
been  issued,  he  writes  to  Murray  (August  12,  1819),  "You 
ask  me  for  the  plan  of  Donny  Johnny  ;  I  have  no  plan — I 
had  no  plan  ;  but  I  had  or  have  materials.  .  .  .  You  are  too 
earnest  and  eager  about  a  work  never  intended  to  be  serious. 
Do  you  suppose  that  I  could  have  any  intention  but  to 
giggle  and  make  giggle? — a  playful  satire,  with  as  little 
poetry  as  could  be  helped,  was  what  I  meant."  Again,  after 
the  completion  but  before  the  publication  of  Cantos  III.,  IV., 
V.,  in  a  letter  to  Murray  (February  16,  1821),  he  writes, 
"  The  Fifth  is  so  far  from  being  the  last  of  Don  Juan,  that 
it  is  hardly  the  beginning.  I  meant  to  take  him  the  tour  of 
Europe,  with  a  proper  mixture  of  siege,  battle,  and  adventure, 
and  to  make  him  finish  as  Anacharsis  Cloots  in  the  French 
Revolution.  ...  I  meant  to  have  made  him  a  Cavalier 
Servente  in  Italy,  and  a  cause  for  a  divorce  in  England, 
and  a  Sentimental '  Werther-faced '  man  in  Germany,  so  as 
to  show  the  different  ridicules  of  the  society  in  each  of 
these  countries,  and  to  have  displayed  him  gradually  gdte  and 
blase,  as  he  grew  older,  as  is  natural.  But  I  had  not  quite 
fixed  whether  to  make  him  end  in  Hell,  or  in  an  unhappy 
marriage,  not  knowing  which  would  be  the  severest." 

Byron  meant  what  he  said,  but  he  kept  back  the  larger 
truth.  Great  works,  in  which  the  poet  speaks  ex  animo,  and 
the  man  lays  bare  the  very  pulse  of  the  machine,  are  not 
conceived  or  composed  unconsciously  and  at  haphazard. 
Byron  did  not  "  whistle  "  Don  Jzian  "  for  want  of  thought." 
He  had  found  a  thing  to  say,  and  he  meant  to  make  the 
world  listen.  He  had  read  with  angry  disapproval,  but  he 
had  read,  Coleridge's  Critique  on  [Maturin's]  Bertram  (vide 
post,  p.  4,  note  i),  and,  it  may  be,  had  caught  an  inspira- 
tion from  one  brilliant  sentence  which  depicts  the  Don 
Juan  of  the  legend  somewhat  after  the  likeness  of  Childe 
Harold,  if  not  of  Lord  Byron  :  "  Rank,  fortune,  wit,  talent, 
acquired  knowledge,  and  liberal  accomplishments,  with 
beauty  of  person,  vigorous  health,  ...  all  these  advantages, 
elevated  by  the  habits  and  sympathies  of  noble  birth  and 
natural  character,  are  .  .  .  combined  in  Don  Juan,  so  as  to 


XV111  INTRODUCTION    TO   DON  JUAN. 

give  him  the  means  of  carrying  into  all  its  practical  conse- 
quences the  doctrine  of  a  godless  nature.  .  .  .  Obedience  to 
nature  is  the  only  virtue."  Again,  "  It  is  not  the  wickedness 
of  Don  Juan  .  .  .  which  constitutes  the  character  an  ab- 
straction, .  .  .  but  the  rapid  succession  of  the  correspondent 
acts  and  incidents,  his  intellectual  superiority,  and  the 
splendid  accumulation  of  his  gifts  and  desirable  qualities 
as  coexistent  with  entire  wickedness  in  one  and  the  same 
person."  Here  was  at  once  a  suggestion  and  a  challenge. 

Would  it  not  be  possible  to  conceive  and  to  depict  an 
ideal  character,  gifted,  gracious,  and  delightful,  who  should 
"  carry  into  all  its  practical  consequences  "  the  doctrine  of  a 
mundane,  if  not  godless  doctrine,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
retain  the  charities  and  virtues  of  uncelestial  but  not  devilish 
manhood  ?  In  defiance  of  monition  and  in  spite  of  resolu- 
tion, the  primrose  path  is  trodden  by  all  sorts  and  conditions 
of  men,  sinners  no  doubt,  but  not  necessarily  abstractions 
of  sin,  and  to  assert  the  contrary  makes  for  cant  and  not  for 
righteousness.  The  form  and  substance  of  the  poem  were 
due  to  the  compulsion  of  Genius  and  the  determination  of 
Art,  but  the  argument  is  a  vindication  of  the  natural  man. 
It  is  Byron's  "criticism  of  life."  Don  Juan  was  taboo  from 
the  first.  The  earlier  issues  of  the  first  five  cantos  were 
doubly  anonymous.  Neither  author  nor  publisher  subscribed 
their  names  on  the  title-page.  The  book  was  a  monster, 
and,  as  its  maker  had  foreseen,  "  all  the  world  "  shuddered. 
Immoral,  in  the  sense  that  it  advocates  immoral  tenets,  or 
prefers  evil  to  good,  it  is  not,  but  it  is  unquestionably  a 
dangerous  book,  which  (to  quote  Kingsley's  words  used  in 
another  connection)  "  the  young  and  innocent  will  do  well  to 
leave  altogether  unread."  Itis  dangerous  because  it  ignores  re- 
sistance and  presumes  submission  to  passion  ;  it  is  dangerous 
because,  as  Byron  admitted,  it  is  "  now  and  then  voluptuous ; " 
and  it  is  dangerous,  in  a  lesser  degree,  because,  here  and 
there,  the  purport  of  the  quips  and  allusions  is  gross  and 
offensive.  No  one  can  take  up  the  book  without  being 
struck  and  arrested  by  these  violations  of  modesty  and 
decorum  ;  but  no  one  can  master  its  contents  and  become 
possessed  of  it  as  a  whole  without  perceiving  that  the  mirror 
is  held  up  to  nature,  that  it  reflects  spots  and  blemishes 
which,  on  a  survey  of  the  vast  and  various  orb,  dwindle 
into  natural  and  so  comparative  insignificance.  Byron  was 
under  no  delusion  as  to  the  grossness  of  Don  Juan.  His 
plea  or  pretence,  that  he  was  sheltered  by  the  superior  gross- 
ness  of  Ariosto  and  La  Fontaine,  of  Prior  and  of  Fielding, 
is  nihil  ad  rem,  if  it  is  not  insincere.  When  Murray  (May 
3,  1819)  charges  him  with  "approximations  to  indelicacy," 


INTRODUCTION    TO   DON  JUAN.  XIX 

he  laughs  himself  away  at  the  euphemism,  but  when  Hob- 
house  and  "  the  Zoili  of  Albemarle  Street  "  talked  to  him 
"  about  morality,"  he  flames  out,  "  I  maintain  that  it  is  the 
most  moral  of  poems."  He  looked  upon  his  great  work  as 
a  whole,  and  he  knew  that  the  "  raison  d'etre  of  his  song " 
was  not  only  to  celebrate,  but,  by  the  white  light  of  truth,  to 
represent  and  exhibit  the  great  things  of  the  world — Love 
and  War,  and  Death  by  sea  and  land,  and;  Man,  half-angel, 
half-demon — the  comedy  of  his  fortunes,  and  the  tragedy 
of  his  passions  and  his  fate. 

Don  Juan  has  won  great  praise  from  the  great.     Sir 
Walter  Scott  (Edinburgh   Weekly  Journal,  May  19,  1824) 
maintained  that  its  creator  "  has  embraced  every  topic  of 
human  life,  and  sounded  every  string  of  the  divine  harp, 
from  its  slightest  to  its  most  powerful  and  heart-astounding 
tones."     Goethe  (Kunst  und  Alterthum,  1821  [ed.  Weimar, 
iii.  197,  and  Sammtliche  Werke,  xiii.  637])  described  Don 
Juan  as  "  a  work  of  boundless  genius."     Shelley  (letter  to 
Byron,  October  21,  1821),  on  the  receipt  of  Cantos  III.,  IV., 
V.,  bore  testimony  to  his  "  wonder  and  delight : "  "  This 
poem  carries  with  it  at  once  the  stamp  of  originality  and 
defiance  of  imitation.     Nothing  has  ever  been  written  like 
it  in  English,  nor,  if  I  may  venture  to  prophesy,  will  there 
be,  unless  carrying  upon  it  the  mark  of  a  secondary  and 
borrowed  light.  .  .  .  You  are  building  up   a  drama,"   he 
adds,  "  such  as  England  has  not  yet  seen,  and  the  task  is 
sufficiently  noble  and  worthy  of  you."     Again,  of  the  fifth 
canto  he  writes  (Shelley's  Prose    Works,  ed.   H.  Buxton 
Forman,  iv.  219),  "  Every  word  has  the  stamp  of  immortality. 
...  It  fulfils,  in  a  certain  degree,  what  I  have  long  preached 
of  producing — something  wholly  new  and  relative  to  the 
age,  and  yet  surpassingly  beautiful."     Finally,  a  living  poet, 
neither  a  disciple  nor  encomiast  of  Byron,  pays  eloquent 
tribute  to  the  strength  and  splendour  of  Don  Juan :  "  Across 
the  stanzas  ...  we  swim  forward  as  over  the  '  broad  backs 
of  the  sea  ; '  they  break  and  glitter,  hiss  and  laugh,  murmur 
and  move  like  waves  that  sound  or  that  subside.    There  is  in 
them  a  delicious  resistance,  an  elastic  motion,  which  salt 
water  has  and  fresh  water  has  not.     There  is  about  them  a 
wide  wholesome  air,  full  of  vivid  light  and  constant  wind, 
which  is  only  felt  at  sea.     Life  undulates  and  Death  palpi- 
tates in  the  splendid  verse.  .  .  .  This  gift  of  life  and  variety 
is  the  supreme  quality  of  Byron's  chief  poem  "  (A  Selection, 
etc.,  by  A.  C.  Swinburne,  ^885,  p.  x.). 

Cantos  I.,  II.  of  Don  Juan  were  reviewed  in  Blackivood's 
Edinburgh  Magazine,  August,  1819,  vol.  v.  pp.  512-518  ; 
Cantos  III.,  IV.,  V.,  August,  1821,  vol.  x.  pp.  107-115  ;  and 


XX  INTRODUCTION   TO  DON  JUAN. 

Cantos  VI.,  VII.,  VIII.,  July,  1823,  vol.  xiv.  pp.  88-92  :  in 
the  British  Critic,  Cantos  I.,  II.  were  reviewed  August,  1819, 
vol.  xii.  pp.  195-205  ;  and  Cantos  III.,  IV.,  V.,  September, 
1821,  vol.xvi.  pp.  251-256  :  in  the  British  Re-view,  Cantos  I., 
II.  were  reviewed  August,  1819,  vol.  xiv.  pp.  266-268;  and 
Cantos  III.,  IV.,  V.,  December,  1821,  vol.  xviii.  pp.  245-265  : 
in  the  Examiner,  Cantos  I.,  II.  were  reviewed  October  31, 
1819;  Cantos  III.,  IV.,  V.,  August  26,  1821  ;  and  Cantos 
XV.,  XVI.,  March  14  and  21,  1824:  in  the  Literary  Gazette, 
Cantos  I.,  II.  were  reviewed  July  17  and  24,  1819;  Cantos 
III.,  IV.,  V.,  August  II  and  18,  1821  ;  Cantos  VI.,  VII., 
VIII.,  July  19,  1823;  Cantos  IX.,  X.,  XL,  September  6, 
1823;  Cantos  XII.,  XIII.,  XIV.,  December  6,  1823;  and 
Cantos  XV.,  XVI.,  April  3,  1824  :  in  the  Monthly  Review, 
Cantos  I.,  II.  were  reviewed  July,  1819,  Enlarged  Series, 
vol.  89,  p.  309  ;  Cantos  III.,  IV.,  V.,  August,  1821,  vol.  95, 
p.  418  ;  Cantos  VI.,  VII.,  VIII.,  July,  1823,  vol.  101,  p.  316  ; 
Cantos  IX.,  X.,  XI.,  October,  1823,  vol.  102,  p.  217  ;  Cantos 
XII.,  XIII.,  XIV.,  vol.  103,  p.  212  ;  and  Cantos  XV.,  XVI., 
April,  1824,  vol.  103,  p.  434  :  in  the  New  Monthly  Magazine, 
Cantos  I.,  II.  were  reviewed  August,  1819,  vol.  xii.  p.  75. 
See,  too,  an  article  on  the  "  Morality  of  Don  yuan"  Dublin 
University  Magazine,  May,  1875,  v°l-  Ixxxv.  pp.  630-637. 

Neither  the  Quarterly  nor  the  Edinburgh  Review  devoted 
separate  articles  to  Don  yuan;  but  Heber,  in  the  Quarterly 
Review  (Lord  Byron's  Dramas),  July,  1822,  vol.  xxvii.  p. 
477,  and  Jeffrey,  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  (Lord  Byron's 
Tragedies},  February,  1822,  vol.  36,  pp.  446-450,  took  occa- 
sion to  pass  judgment  on  the  poem  and  its  author. 

For  the  history  of  the  legend,  see  History  of  Spanish 
Literature,  by  George  Ticknor,  1888,  vol.  ii.  pp.  380,  381  ; 
and  Das  Kloster,  von  J.  Scheible,  1846,  vol.  iii.  pp.  663-765. 
See,  too,  Notes  sur  le  Don  yuanisme,  par  Henri  de  Bruchard, 
Mercure  de  France,  Avril,  1898,  vol.  xxvi.  pp.  58-73  ;  and 
Don  yuan,  par  Gu  stave  Kahn,  Revue  Encyclop/dique,  1898, 
torn.  viii.  pp.  326-329. 


DON    JUAN. 


FRAGMENT 

ON  THE  BACK  OF  THE  MS.  OF  CANTO  I. 

I  WOULD  to  Heaven  that  I  were  so  much  clay, 
As  I  am  blood,  bone,  marrow,  passion,  feeling- 

Because  at  least  the  past  were  passed  away, 
And  for  the  future — (but  I  write  this  reeling, 

Having  got  drunk  exceedingly  to-day, 
So  that  I  seem  to  stand  upon  the  ceiling) 

I  say — the  future  is  a  serious  matter — 

And  so — for  God's  sake — hock  and  soda-water ! 


DEDICATION.1 


i. 

BOB  SOUTHEY  !  You  're  a  poet — Poet-laureate, 

And  representative  of  all  the  race ; 
Although  't  is  true  that  you  turned  out  a  Tory  at 

Last, — yours  has  lately  been  a  common  case ; 
And  now,  my  Epic  Renegade  !  what  are  ye  at  ? 

With  all  the  Lakers,  in  and  out  of  place  ? 
A  nest  of  tuneful  persons,  to  my  eye 
Like  "  four  and  twenty  Blackbirds  in  a  pye ; 

ii. 
"  Which  pye  being  opened  they  began  to  sing," 

(This  old  song  and  new  simile  holds  good), 
"  A  dainty  dish  to  set  before  the  King," 

Or  Regent,  who  admires  such  kind  of  food ; — 
And  Coleridge,  too,  has  lately  taken  wing, 

But  like  a  hawk  encumbered  with  his  hood, — 

i.  ["  As  the  Poem  is  to  be  published  anonymously,  omit  the  Dedica- 
tion. I  won't  attack  the  dog  in  the  dark.  Such  things  are  for  scoundrels 
and  renegadoes  like  himself"  [Revise].  See,  too,  letter  to  Murray, 
May  6,  1819  {Letters,  1900,  iv.  294) ;  and  Southey's  letter  to  Bedford, 
July  31,  1819  (Selections  from  the  Letters,  etc.,  1856,  iii.  137,  538). 
According  to  the  editor  of  the  Works  of  Lord  Byron,  1833  (xv.  101),  the 
existence  of  the  Dedication  "became  notorious"  in  consequence  of 
Hobhouse's  article  in  the  Westminster  Revieiv,  1824.  He  adds,  for 
Southey's  consolation  and  encouragement,  that  "  for  several  years  the 
verses  have  been  selling  in  the  streets  as  a  broadside,"  and  that  "it 
would  serve  no  purpose  to  exclude  them  on  the  present  occasion." 
But  Southey  was  not  appeased.  He  tells  Allan  Cunningham  (June  3, 
1833)  that  "  the  new  edition  of  Byron's  works  is  ...  one  of  the  very 
worst  symptoms  of  these  bad  times  "  (Life  and  Correspondence,  1850, 
vi.  217).] 

VOL.  VI.  B    2 


4  DON    JUAN. 

Explaining  Metaphysics  to  the  nation — 
I  wish  he  would  explain  his  Explanation.1 

in. 
You,  Bob  !  are  rather  insolent,  you  know, 

At  being  disappointed  in  your  wish 
To  supersede  all  warblers  here  below, 

And  be  the  only  Blackbird  in  the  dish ; 
And  then  you  overstrain  yourself,  or  so, 

And  tumble  downward  like  the  flying  fish 
Gasping  on  deck,  because  you  soar  too  high,  Bob, 
And  fall,  for  lack  of  moisture,  quite  a-dry,  Bob  ! 2 

IV. 

And  Wordsworth,  in  a  rather  long  "  Excursion," 
(I  think  the  quarto  holds  five  hundred  pages), 

Has  given  a  sample  from  the  vasty  version 
Of  his  new  system  3  to  perplex  the  sages ; 

1.  [In  the  "Critique  on  Bertram,"  which  Coleridge  contributed  to  the 
Courier,  in  1816,  and  republished  in  the  Biographia  Literaria,  in  1817 
(chap,  xxiii.),  he  gives  a  detailed  analysis  of  "  the  old  Spanish  play, 
entitled  Atheista  Fulminate  [vide  ante,  the  '  Introduction  to  Don  Juan  ] 
.  .  .  which  under  various  names  (Don  Juan,  the  Libertine,  etc.)  has 
had  its  day  of  favour  in  every  country  throughout  Europe.  .  .  .  Rank, 
fortune,  wit,  talent,  acquired  knowledge,  and  liberal  accomplishments, 
with  beauty  of  person,  vigorous  health,  and  constitutional  hardihood, 
— all  these  advantages,  elevated  by  the  habits  and  sympathies  of  noble 
birth  and  national  character,  are  supposed  to  have  combined  in  Don 
Juan,  so  as  to  give  him  the  means  of  carrying  into  all  its  practical  con- 
sequences the  doctrine  of  a  godless  nature,  as  the  sole  ground  and 
efficient  cause  not  only  of  all  things,  events,  and  appearances,  but  like- 
wise of  all  our  thoughts,  sensations,  impulses,  and  actions.     Obedience 
to  nature  is  the  only  virtue."     It  is  possible  that  Byron  traced  his 
own  lineaments  in  this  too  life-like  portraiture,  and  at  the  same  time 
conceived  the  possibility  of  a  new  Don  Juan,  "  made  up"  after  his  own 
likeness.     His  extreme  resentment  at  Coleridge's  just,  though  unwise 
and  uncalled-for,  attack  on  Maturin  stands  in  need  of  some  explanation. 
See  letter  to  Murray,  September  17,  1817  {Letters,  1900,  iv.  172).] 

2.  ["  Have  you  heard  that  Don  Juan  came  over  with  a  dedication  to 
me,  in  which  Lord  Castlereagh  and  I  (being  hand  in  glove  intimates) 
were  coupled  together  for  abuse  as  '  the  two   Roberts '  ?    A  fear  of 
persecution  (sic)  from  the  one  Robert  is  supposed  to  be  the  reason  why 
it  has  been  suppressed "  (Southey  to  Rev.  H.  Hill,  August  13,  1819, 
Selections  from  tke  Letters,  etc.,  1856,  iii.  142).    For  "Quarrel  between 
Byron  and  Southey,"  see  Introduction  to    The   Vision  of  Judgment, 
Poetical    Works,   1901,  iv.   475-480;    and  Letters,  .1901,  vi.  377-399 
(Appendix  I.).] 

3.  [The  reference  must  be  to  the  detailed  enumeration  of  "the 
powers  requisite  for  the  production  of  poetry,"  and  the  subsequent 


DON    JUAN.  5 

'T  is  poetry — at  least  by  his  assertion, 

And  may  appear  so  when  the  dog-star  rages — 
And  he  who  understands  it  would  be  able 
To  add  a  story  to  the  Tower  of  Babel. 

v. 

You — Gentlemen  !  by  dint  of  long  seclusion 
From  better  company,  have  kept  your  own 

At  Keswick,  and,  through  still  continued  fusion 
Of  one  another's  minds,  at  last  have  grown 

To  deem  as  a  most  logical  conclusion, 
That  Poesy  has  wreaths  for  you  alone : 

There  is  a  narrowness  in  such  a  notion, 

Which  makes  me  wish  you  'd  change  your  lakes  for  Ocean. 

VI. 

I  would  not  imitate  the  petty  thought, 

Nor  coin  my  self-love  to  so  base  a  vice, 
For  all  the  glory  your  conversion  brought, 

Since  gold  alone  should  not  have  been  its  price. 
You  have  your  salary ;  was  't  for  that  you  wrought  ? 

And  Wordsworth  has  his  place  in  the  Excise.1 
You  're  shabby  fellows — true — but  poets  still, 
And  duly  seated  on  the  Immortal  Hill. 

VII. 

Your  bays  may  hide  the  baldness  of  your  brows — 
Perhaps  some  virtuous  blushes ; — let  them  go — 

antithesis  of  Imagination  and  Fancy  contained  in  the  Preface  to  the 
collected  Poems  of  William  Wordsworth,  published  in  1815.  In  the 
Preface  to  the  Excursion  (1814)  it  is  expressly  stated  that  "it  is  not 
the  author's  intention  formally  to  announce  a  system."] 

i.  Wordsworth's  place  may  be  in  the  Customs — it  is,  I  think,  in  that 
or  the  Excise — besides  another  at  Lord  Lonsdale's  table,  where  this 
poetical  charlatan  and  political  parasite  licks  up  the  crumbs  with  a 
hardened  alacrity ;  the  converted  Jacobin  having  long  subsided  into 
the  clownish  sycophant  [despised  retainer, — MS.  erased]  of  the  worst 
prejudices  of  the  aristocracy. 

[Wordsworth  obtained  his  appointment  as  Distributor  of  Stamps  for 
the  county  of  Westmoreland  in  March,  1813,  through  Lord  Lonsdale's 
"patronage"  (see  his  letter,  March  6,  1813).  T/ie  Excursion  was 
dedicated  to  Lord  Lonsdale  in  a  sonnet  dated  July  29,  1814 — 

"  Oft  through  thy  fair  domains,  illustrious  Peer, 
In  youth  I  roamed  .  .  . 
Now,  by  thy  care  befriended,  I  appear 
Before  thee,  Lonsdale,  and  this  Work  present." 


DON   JUAN. 

To  you  I  envy  neither  fruit  nor  boughs — 
And  for  the  fame  you  would  engross  below, 

The  field  is  universal,  and  allows 

Scope  to  all  such  as  feel  the  inherent  glow : 

Scott,  Rogers,  Campbell,  Moore,  and  Crabbe,  will  try 

'Gainst  you  the  question  with  posterity. 

VIII. 

For  me,  who,  wandering  with  pedestrian  Muses, 
Contend  not  with  you  on  the  winge'd  steed, 

I  wish  your  fate  may  yield  ye,  when  she  chooses, 
The  fame  you  envy,  and  the  skill  you  need ; 

And,  recollect,  a  poet  nothing  loses 

In  giving  to  his  brethren  their  full  meed 

Of  merit — and  complaint  of  present  days 

Is  not  the  certain  path  to  future  praise. 

IX. 

He  that  reserves  his  laurels  for  posterity 

(Who  does  not  often  claim  the  bright  reversion) 

Has  generally  no  great  crop  to  spare  it,  he 
Being  only  injured  by  his  own  assertion ; 

And  although  here  and  there  some  glorious  rarity 
Arise  like  Titan  from  the  sea's  immersion, 

The  major  part  of  such  appellants  go 

To — God  knows  where — for  no  one  else  can  know. 

x. 

If,  fallen  in  evil  days  on  evil  tongues,1 
Milton  appealed  to  the  Avenger,  Time, 

If  Time,  the  Avenger,  execrates  his  wrongs, 
And  makes  the  word  "  Miltonic "  mean  " Sublime" 

He  deigned  not  to  belie  his  soul  in  songs, 
Nor  turn  his  very  talent  to  a  crime ; 

He  did  not  loathe  the  Sire  to  laud  the  Son, 

But  closed  the  tyrant-hater  he  begun. 

XI. 

Think'st  thou,  could  he — the  blind  Old  Man — arise 
Like  Samuel  from  the  grave,  to  freeze  once  more 

i.  [Paradise  Lost,  vii.  25,  26.  j 


DON   JUAN.  7 

The  blood  of  monarchs  with  his  prophecies, 

Or  be  alive  again — again  all  hoar 
With  time  and  trials,  and  those  helpless  eyes, 

And  heartless  daughters — worn — and  pale 1 — and  poor; 
Would  he  adore  a  sultan  ?  fie  obey 
The  intellectual  eunuch  Castlereagh  ? 2 

XII. 

Cold-blooded,  smooth-faced,  placid  miscreant ! 

Dabbling  its  sleek  young  hands  in  Erin's  gore, 
And  thus  for  wider  carnage  taught  to  pant, 

Transferred  to  gorge  upon  a  sister  shore, 
The  vulgarest  tool  that  Tyranny  could  want, 

With  just  enough  of  talent,  and  no  more, 
To  lengthen  fetters  by  another  fixed, 
And  offer  poison  long  already  mixed. 

XIII. 

An  orator  of  such  set  trash  of  phrase 

Ineffably — legitimately  vile, 
That  even  its  grossest  flatterers  dare  not  praise, 

Nor  foes — all  nations — condescend  to  smile, — 
Nor  even  a  sprightly  blunder's  spark  can  blaze 

From  that  Ixion  grindstone's  ceaseless  toil, 

1.  "Pale,  but  not  cadaverous:" — Milton's  two  elder  daughters  are 
said  to  have  robbed  him  of  his  books,  besides  cheating  and  plaguing 
him  in  the  economy  of  his  house,  etc.,  etc.     His  feelings  on  such  an 
outrage,  both  as  a  parent  and  a  scholar,  must  have  been  singularly 
painful.    Hayley  compares  him  to  Lear.    See  part  third,  Life  of  Milton, 
by  W.  Hayley  (or  Hailey,  as  spelt  in  the  edition  before  me). 

[The  Life  of  Milton,  by  William  Hailey  (sic),  Esq.,  Basil,  1799,  p. 
186.] 

2.  Or— 

"  Would  lie  subside  into  a  hackney  Laureate — 
A  scribbling,  self-sold,  soul-hired,  scorned  Iscariot  ?  " 

I  doubt  if  "  Laureate"  and  "  Iscariot"  be  good  rhymes,  but  must  say, 
as  Ben  Jonson  did  to  Sylvester,  who  challenged  him  to  rhyme  with — 

"  I,  John  Sylvester, 
Lay  with  your  sister." 

Jonson  answered — "I,  Ben  Jonson,  lay  with  your  wife."  Sylvester 
answered, — "  That  is  not  rhyme." — "  No,"  said  Ben  Jonson  ;  "  but  it 
is  true." 

[For  Robert  Stewart,  Viscount  Castlereagh,  see  The  Age  of  Bronze, 
line  538,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  568,  note  2  ;  and  Letters,  1900,  iv. 
108,  note  i.] 


8  DON   JUAN. 

That  turns  and  turns  to  give  the  world  a  notion 
Of  endless  torments  and  perpetual  motion. 

XIV. 

A  bungler  even  in  its  disgusting  trade, 

And  botching,  patching,  leaving  still  behind 

Something  of  which  its  masters  are  afraid — 
States  to  be  curbed,  and  thoughts  to  be  confined, 

Conspiracy  or  Congress  to  be  made — 
Cobbling  at  manacles  for  all  mankind — 

A  tinkering  slave-maker,  who  mends  old  chains, 

With  God  and  Man's  abhorrence  for  its  gains. 

xv. 

If  we  may  judge  of  matter  by  the  mind, 

Emasculated  to  the  marrow  // 
Hath  but  two  objects,  how  to  serve,  and  bind, 

Deeming  the  chain  it  wears  even  men  may  fit, 
Eutropius  of  its  many  masters,1 — blind 

To  worth  as  freedom,  wisdom  as  to  wit, 
Fearless — because  no  feeling  dwells  in  ice, 
Its  very  courage  stagnates  to  a  vice.3 

XVI. 

Where  shall  I  turn  me  not  to  view  its  bonds, 

For  I  will  never  feel  them  ? — Italy  ! 
Thy  late  reviving  Roman  soul  desponds 

Beneath  the  lie  this  State-thing  breathed  o'er  thee  3 — 

1.  For  the  character  of  Eutropius,  the  eunuch  and  minister  at  the 
court  of  Arcadius,  see  Gibbon,  [Decline  and  Fall,  1825,  ii.  307,  308]. 

2.  ["Mr.    John   Murray, — As    publisher    to  the  Admiralty  and   of 
various  Government  works,  if  the  five  stanzas  concerning  Castlereagh 
should  risk  your  ears  or  the  Navy  List,  you  may  omit  them  in  the  pub- 
lication— in  that  case  the  two  last  lines  of  stanza  10  [i.e.  n]  must  end 
with  the  couplet  (lines  7,  8)  inscribed  in  the  margin.     The  stanzas  on 
Castlerighi  (as  the  Italians  call  him)  are  n,  12,  13,  14,  15." — MS.  M.~\ 

3.  [Commenting  on  a  "pathetic  sentiment  "  of  Leoni,  the  author  of 
the  Italian  translation  of  Childe  Harold  ("Sciagurata  condizione  di 
questa    mia    patria ! "),    Byron    affirms    that    the    Italians    execrated 
Castlereagh  "as  the  cause,  by  the  conduct  of  the  English  at  Genoa." 
"Surely,"  he  exclaims,  "that  man  will  not  die  in  his  bed  :  there  is  no 
spot  of  the  earth  where  his  name  is  not  a  hissing  and  a  curse.    Imagine 
what  must  be  the  man's  talent  for  Odium,  who  has  contrived  to  spread 
his  infamy  like  a  pestilence  from  Ireland  to  Italy,  and  to  make  his 
name  an  execration  in  all  languages." — Letter  to  Murray,  May  8,  1820, 
Letters,  1901,  v.  22,  note  i.J 


DON   JUAN.  9 

Thy  clanking  chain,  and  Erin's  yet  green  wounds, 

Have  voices — tongues  to  cry  aloud  for  me. 
Europe  has  slaves — allies — kings — armies  still — 
And  Southey  lives  to  sing  them  very  ill. 

XVII. 

Meantime,  Sir  Laureate,  I  proceed  to  dedicate, 
In  honest  simple  verse,  this  song  to  you. 

And,  if  in  flattering  strains  I  do  not  predicate, 
'T  is  that  I  still  retain  my  "  buff  and  blue ; " 

My  politics  as  yet  are  all  to  educate  : 
Apostasy  's  so  fashionable,  too, 

To  keep  one  creed  's  a  task  grown  quite  Herculean ; 

Is  it  not  so,  my  Tory,  ultra-Julian  ?  2 

Venice,  Sept.  16,  1818. 

1.  [Charles  James  Fox  and  the  Whig  Club  of  his  time  adopted  a 
uniform  of  blue  and  buff.     Hence  the  livery  of  the  Edinburgh  Review.] 

2.  I  allude  not  to  our  friend  Landor's  hero,  the  traitor  Count  Julian, 
but  to  Gibbon's  hero,  vulgarly  yclept  "The  Apostate." 


DON    JUAN. 


CANTO  THE  FIRST.1 


i. 

I  WANT  a  hero  :  an  uncommon  want, 

When  every  year  and  month  sends  forth  a  new  one, 
Till,  after  cloying  the  gazettes  with  cant, 

The  age  discovers  he  is  not  the  true  one ; 
Of  such  as  these  I  should  not  care  to  vaunt, 

I  '11  therefore  take  our  ancient  friend  Don  Juan — 
We  all  have  seen  him,  in  the  pantomime,2 
Sent  to  the  Devil  somewhat  ere  his  time. 

1.  [Begun  at  Venice,  September  6  ;  finished  November  i,  1818.] 

2.  [The  pantomime  which  /Byron  and  his  readers  "all  had  seen," 
was  an  abbreviated  and  bowdlerized  version  of  Shadwell's  Libertine. 
"  First  produced  by  Mr.  Garrick  on  the  boards  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre," 
it  was  recomposed  by  Charles  Anthony  Delpini,  and  performed  at  the 
Royalty  Theatre,  in  Goodman's  Fields,  in  1787.     It  was  entitled  Don 
Juan  ;  or,  The  Libertine  Destroyed  :  A  Tragic  Pantomimical  Entertain- 
ment, In  Two  Acts.    Music  Composed  by  Mr.  Gluck.    "Scaramouch," 
the  ' '  Sganarelle  "  of  Moliere's  Festin  de  Pierre,  was  a  favourite  character 
of  Joseph  Grimaldi.    He  was  cast  for  the  part,  in  1801,  at  Sadler's  Wells, 
and,  again,  on  a  memorable  occasion,  November  28,  1809,  at  Covent 
Garden  Theatre,  when  the  O.  P.  riots  were  in  full  swing,  and  (see  the 
Morning   Chronicle,    November  29,    1809)   ' '  there  was   considerable 
tumult  in  the  pit."    According  to  "  Boz"  (Memoirs  of  Joseph  Grimaldi, 
1846,  ii.  81,  106,  107),  Byron  patronized  Grimaldi's  "  benefits  at  Covent 
Garden,"  was  repeatedly  in  his  company,  and  when  he  left  England, 
in  1816,  "  presented  him  with  a  valuable  silver  snuff-box."     At  the  end 
of  the  pantomime  "the  Furies  gather  round  him  [Don  Juan],  and  the 
Tyrant  being  bound  in  chains  is  hurried  away  and  thrown  into  flames." 
The  Devil  is  conspicuous  by  his  absence.] 


iz  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

n. 

Vernon,1  the  butcher  Cumberland,  Wolfe,  Hawke, 
Prince  Ferdinand,  Granby,  Burgoyne,  Keppel,  Howe, 

Evil  and  good,  have  had  their  tithe  of  talk, 
And  filled  their  sign-posts  then,  like  Wellesley  now ; 

Each  in  their  turn  like  Banquo's  monarchs  stalk, 
Followers  of  Fame,  "  nine  farrow  "  2  of  that  sow : 

France,  too,  had  Buonaparte' 3  and  Dumourier  4 

Recorded  in  the  Moniteur  and  Courier. 

1.  [Edward  Vernon,  Admiral  (1684-1757),  took  Porto  Bello  in  1739. 
William  Augustus,  second  son  of  George  II.  (1721-1765),  fought  at 

the  battles  of  Dettingen,  1743 ;  Fontenoy,  1745  ;  and  at  Culloden,  1746. 
For  the  "  severity  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,"  see  Scott's  Tales  of  a 
Grandfather,  Prose  Works,  1830,  vii.  852,  sq. 

James  Wolfe,  General,  born  January  2,  1726,  was  killed  at  the  siege 
of  Quebec,  September  13,  1759. 

Edward,  Lord  Hawke,  Admiral  (1715-1781),  totally  defeated  the 
French  fleet  in  Quiberon  Bay,  November  20,  1759. 

Ferdinand,  Duke  of  Brunswick  (1721-1792),  gained  the  victory  at 
Minden,  August  i,  1759. 

John  Manners,  Marquess  of  Granby  (1721-1790),  commanded  the 
British  forces  in  Germany  (1766-1769). 

John  Burgoyne,  General,  defeated  the  Americans  at  Germantown, 
October  3,  1777,  but  surrendered  to  General  Gates  at  Saratoga,  October 
17,  1778.  He  died  in  1792. 

Augustus,  Viscount  Keppel,  Admiral  (1725-1786),  was  tried  by  court- 
martial,  January-February,  1779,  for  allowing  the  French  fleet  off 
Ushant  to  escape,  July,  1778.  He  was  honourably  acquitted. 

Richard,  Earl  Howe,  Admiral  (1725-1799),  known  by  the  sailors  as 
"  Black  Dick,"  defeated  the  French  off  Ushant,  June  i,  1794.] 

2.  [Compare  Macbeth,  act  iv.  sc.  i,  line  65.] 

3.  ["  In  the  eighth  and  concluding  lecture  of  Mr.  Hazlitt's  canons  of 
criticism,  delivered  at  the  Surrey  Institution  ( The  English  Poets,  1870, 
pp.  203,  204),  I  am  accused  of  having  '  lauded  Buonaparte  to  the  skies 
in  the  hour  of  his  success,  and  then  peevishly  wreaking  my  disappoint- 
ment on  the  god  of  my  idolatry.'    The  first  lines  I  ever  wrote  upon 
Buonaparte  were  the  '  Ode  to  Napoleon,'  after  his  abdication  in  1814. 
All  that  I  have  ever  written  on  that  subject  has  been  done  since  his 
decline; — I  never  'met  him  in  the  hour  of  his  success.'    I  have  con- 
sidered his  character  at  different  periods,  in  its  strengh  and  in  its 
weakness  :  by  his  zealots  I  am  accused  of  injustice — by  his  enemies  as 
his  warmest  partisan,  in  many  publications,  both  English  and  foreign. 

' '  For  the  accuracy  of  my  delineation  I  have  high  authority.  A  year 
and  some  months  ago,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  at  Venice  my  friend 
the  honourable  Douglas  Kinnaird.  In  his  way  through  Germany,  he 
told  me  that  he  had  been  honoured  with  a  presentation  to,  and  some 
interviews  with,  one  of  the  nearest  family  connections  of  Napoleon 
(Eugene  Beauharnais).  During  one  of  these,  he  read  and  translated 
the  lines  alluding  to  Buonaparte,  in  the  Third  Canto  of  Childe  Harold. 
He  informed  me,  that  he  was  authorized  by  the  illustrious  personage — 
(still  recognized  as  such  by  the  Legitimacy  in  Europe) — to  whom  they 


CANTO   I.]  DON    JUAN.  13 

III. 

Barnave,  Brissot,  Condorcet,  Mirabeau, 

Petion,  Clootz,  Danton,  Marat,  La  Fayette  5 

were  read,  to  say,  that  '  the  delineation  was  complete,'  or  words  to  this 
effect.  It  is  no  puerile  vanity  which  induces  me  to  publish  this  fact ; — 
but  Mr.  Hazlitt  accuses  my  inconsistency,  and  infers  my  inaccuracy. 
Perhaps  he  will  admit  that,  with  regard  to  the  latter,  one  of  the  most 
intimate  family  connections  of  the  Emperor  may  be  equally  capable  of 
deciding  on  the  subject.  I  tell  Mr.  Hazlitt  that  I  never  flattered 
Napoleon  on  the  throne,  nor  maligned  him  since  his  fall.  I  wrote  what 
I  think  are  the  incredible  antitheses  of  his  character. 

1 '  Mr.  Hazlitt  accuses  me  further  of  delineating  myself  in  Childe 
Harold,  etc.,  etc.  I  have  denied  this  long  ago — but,  even  were  it  true, 
Locke  tells  us,  that  all  his  knowledge  of  human  understanding  was 
derived  from  studying  his  own  mind.  From  Mr.  Hazlitt's  opinion  of 
my  poetry  1  do  not  appeal ;  but  I  request  that  gentleman  not  to  insult 
me  by  imputing  the  basest  of  crimes, — viz.  '  praising  publicly  the  same 
man  whom  I  wished  to  depreciate  in  his  adversity  : ' — the  first  lines  I 
ever  wrote  on  Buonaparte  were  in  his  dispraise,  in  1814, — the  last, 
though  not  at  all  in  his  favour,  were  more  impartial  and  discriminative, 
in  1818.  Has  he  become  more  fortunate  since  1814?"  For  Byron's 
various  estimates  of  Napoleon's  character  and  career,  see  Childe 
Harold,  Canto  III.  stanza  xxxvi.  line  7,  Poetical  Works,  1899,  ii.  238, 
note  i.] 

4.  [Charles  Fra^ois  Duperier  Dumouriez  (1739-1823)  defeated  the 
Austrians  at  Jemappes,   November  6,   1792,  etc.      He  published  his 
Memoires  (Hamburg  et  Leipsic),  1794.    For  the  spelling,  see  Memoirs  of 
General  Dumourier,  written  by  himself,  translated  by  John  Fenwick, 
London,  1794.     See,  too,  Lettre  de  Joseph  Servan,  Ex-ministre  de  la 
Guerre,  Sur  le  mlmoire  lu  par  M.  Dumourier  le  13  Juin  a  tAssemblfe 
Nationale ;  Bibliothlque  Historique  de  la  Revolution,  "Justifications," 
7.  8,  Q.] 

5.  [Antoine  Pierre  Joseph  Barnave,  born  1761,  was  appointed  Pre- 
sident of  the  Constituent  Assembly  in  1790.      He  was  guillotined 
November  30,  1793. 

Jean  Pierre  Brissot  de  Warville,  philosopher  and  politician,  born 
January  14,  1754,  was  one  of  the  principal  instigators  of  the  revolt 
of  the  Champ  de  Mars,  July,  1789.  He  was  guillotined  October  31, 

1793- 

Marie  Jean  Antoine,  Marquis  de  Condorcet,  born'  September  17, 
1743,  was  appointed  President  of  the  Legislative  Assembly  in  1792. 
Proscribed  by  the  Girondins,  he  poisoned  himself  to  escape  the 
guillotine,  March  28,  1794. 

Honor6  Gabriel  Riquetti,  Comte  de  Mirabeau,  born  March  9,  1749, 
died  April  2,  1791. 

JeY6me  Petion  de  Villeneuve,  born  1753,  Mayor  of  Paris  in  1791, 
took  an  active  part  in  the  imprisonment  of  the  king.  In  1793  he  fell 
under  Robespierre's  displeasure,  and  to  escape  proscription  took 
refuge  in  the  department  of  Calvados.  In  1794  his  body  was  found 
in  a  field,  half  eaten  by  wolves. 

Jean  Baptiste,  Baron  de  Clootz  (better  known  as  Anacharsis  Clootz), 
was  born  in  1755.  In  1790,  at  the  bar  of  the  National  Convention,  he 
described  himself  as  the  "  Speaker  of  Mankind."  Being  suspected  by 


T4  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

Were  French,  and  famous  people,  as  we  know ; 

And  there  were  others,  scarce  forgotten  yet, 
Joubert,  Hoche,  Marceau,  Lannes,  Desaix,  Moreau,1 

With  many  of  the  military  set, 
Exceedingly  remarkable  at  times, 
But  not  at  all  adapted  to  my  rhymes. 

IV. 

Nelson  was  once  Britannia's  god  of  War, 
And  still  should  be  so,  but  the  tide  is  turned ; 

There  's  no  more  to  be  said  of  Trafalgar, 
'T  is  with  our  hero  quietly  inurned ; 

Because  the  army  's  grown  more  popular, 
At  which  the  naval  people  are  concerned ; 

Besides,  the  Prince  is  all  for  the  land-service. 

Forgetting  Duncan,  Nelson,  Howe,  and  Jervis. 

Robespierre,  he  was  condemned  to  death,  March  24,  1794.  On  the 
scaffold  he  begged  to  be  executed  last,  ' '  in  order  to  establish  certain 
principles."  (See  Carlyle's  French  Revolution,  1839,  iii.  315.) 

Georges  Jacques  Danton,  born  October  28,  1759,  helped  to  establish 
the  Revolutionary  Tribunal,  March  10,  and  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety,  April  6,  1793  ;  agreed  to  proscription  of  the  Girondists,  June, 
1793  ;  was  executed  with  Camille  Desmoulins  and  others,  April  5, 1794. 

Jean  Paul  Marat,  born  May  24,  1744,  physician  and  man  of  science, 
proposed  and  carried  out  the  wholesale  massacre  of  September  2-5, 
1792  ;  was  denounced  to,  but  acquitted  by,  the  Revolutionary  Tribunal, 
May,  1793  ;  assassinated  by  Charlotte  Corday,  July  13,  1793. 

Marie  Jean  Paul,  Marquis  de  La  Fayette,  born  September  6,  1757, 
died  May  19,  1834. 

With  the  exception  of  La  Fayette,  who  outlived  Byron  by  ten  years, 
and  Lord  St.  Vincent,  all  "  the  famous  persons  "  mentioned  in  stanzas 
ii.-iv.  had  passed  away  long  before  the  First  Canto  of  Don  Juan  was 
written.] 

i.  [Barthe'lemi  Catherine  Joubert,  born  April  14,  1769,  distin- 
guished himself  at  the  engagements  of  Cava,  Montebello,  Rivoli,  and 
in  the  Tyrol.  He  was  afterwards  sent  to  oppose  Suv6roff,  and  was 
killed  at  Novi,  August  15,  1799. 

For  Hoche  and  Marceau,  vide  ante.  Poetical  Works,  1899,  ii.  296. 

Jean  Lannes,  Duke  of  Montebello,  born  April  n,  1769,  distinguished 
himself  at  Lodi,  Aboukir,  Acre,  Austerlitz,  Jena  and,  lastly,  at  Essling, 
where  he  was  mortally  wounded.  He  died  May  31,  1809. 

Louis  Charles  Antoine  Desaix  de  Voygoux,  born  August  27,  1768, 
won  the  victory  at  the  Pyramids,  July  21,  1798.  He  was  mortally 
wounded  at  Marengo,  June  14,  1800. 

Jean  Victor  Moreau,  born  August  u,  1763,  was  victorious  at  Engen, 
May  3,  and  at  Hohenlinden,  December  3,  1800.  He  was  struck  by  a 
cannon-ball  at  the  battle  of  Dresden,  August  27,  and  died  September 
2,  1813.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  15 

V. 

Brave  men  were  living  before  Agamemnon l 
And  since,  exceeding  valorous  and  sage, 

A  good  deal  like  him  too,  though  quite  the  same  none ; 
But  then  they  shone  not  on  the  poet's  page, 

And  so  have  been  forgotten  : — I  condemn  none, 
But  can't  find  any  in  the  present  age 

Fit  for  my  poem  (that  is,  for  my  new  one) ; 

So,  as  I  said,  I  '11  take  my  friend  Don  Juan. 

VI. 

Most  epic  poets  plunge  "  in  medias  res  " ; 

(Horace  makes  this  the  heroic  turnpike  road), 
And  then  your  hero  tells,  whene'er  you  please, 

What  went  before — by  way  of  episode, 
While  seated  after  dinner  at  his  ease, 

Beside  his  mistress  in  some  soft  abode, 
Palace,  or  garden,  paradise,  or  cavern, 
Which  serves  the  happy  couple  for  a  tavern. 

VII. 

That  is  the  usual  method,  but  not  mine — 
My  way  is  to  begin  with  the  beginning ; 

The  regularity  of  my  design 

Forbids  all  wandering  as  the  worst  of  sinning, 

And  therefore  I  shall  open  with  a  line 

(Although  it  cost  me  half  an  hour  in  spinning), 

Narrating  somewhat  of  Don  Juan's  father, 

And  also  of  his  mother,  if  you  'd  rather. 

VIII. 

In  Seville  was  he  born,  a  pleasant  city, 

Famous  for  oranges  and  women, — he 
Who  has  not  seen  it  will  be  much  to  pity, 

So  says  the  proverb  3 — and  I  quite  agree  ; 

1.  [Hor.,  Od.,  iv.  c.  ix.  1.  25 — 

"  Vixere  fortes  ante  Agamemnona,"  etc.] 

2.  [Hor.,  Epist.  Ad  Pisones,  lines  148,  149 — 

"  Semper  ad  eventum  festinat,  et  in  medias  res, 
Non  secus  ac  notas,  auditorem  rapit "] 

3.  ["Quien  no  ha  visto  Sevilla,  no  ha  visto  maravilla."] 


1 6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

Of  all  the  Spanish  towns  is  none  more  pretty, 

Cadiz  perhaps — but  that  you  soon  may  see  ; — 
Don  Juan's  parents  lived  beside  the  river, 
A  noble  stream,  and  called  the  Guadalquivir. 

IX. 

His  father's  name  was  Jose — Don,  of  course, — 

A  true  Hidalgo,  free  from  every  stain 
Of  Moor  or  Hebrew  blood,  he  traced  his  source 

Through  the  most  Gothic  gentlemen  of  Spain ; 
A  better  cavalier  ne'er  mounted  horse, 

Or,  being  mounted,  e'er  got  down  again, 
Than  Jose",  who  begot  our  hero,  who 
Begot — but  that 's  to  come Well,  to  renew  : 

x.1 
His  mother  was  a  learned  lady,  famed 

For  every  branch  of  every  science  known — 
In  every  Christian  language  ever  named, 

With  virtues  equalled  by  her  wit  alone  : 
She  made  the  cleverest  people  quite  ashamed, 

And  even  the  good  with  inward  envy  groan, 
Finding  themselves  so  very  much  exceeded, 
In  their  own  way,  by  all  the  things  that  she  did. 

XI. 

Her  memory  was  a  mine :  she  knew  by  heart 
All  Calderon  and  greater  part  of  Lopd, 

So,  that  if  any  actor  missed  his  part, 
She  could  have  served  him  for  the  prompter's  copy ; 

For  her  Feinagle's  were  an  useless  art,2 
And  he  himself  obliged  to  shut  up  shop — he 

1.  [In  his  reply  to  Blackwood  (No.  xxix.  August,  1819),  Byron  some- 
what disingenuously  rebuts  the  charge  that  Don  Juan  contained  "  an 
elaborate  satire  on  the  character  and  manners  of  his  wife."     "  If,"  he 
writes,  "  in  a  poem  by  no  means  ascertained  to  be  my  production  there 
appears  a  disagreeable,  casuistical,  and  by  no  means  respectable  female 
pedant,  it  is  set  down  for  my  wife.     Is  there  any  resemblance?    If 
there  be,  it  is  in  those  who  make  it — I  can  see  none." — Letters,  1900, 
iv.  477.    The  allusions  in  stanzas  xii.-xiv.,  and,  again,  in  stanzas  xxvii.- 
xxix.,  are,  and  must  have  been  meant  to  be,  unmistakable.] 

2.  [Gregor  von  Feinagle,  born  ?  1765,  was  the  inventor  of  a  system  of 
mnemonics,    "founded   on   the  topical  memory  of  the  ancients,"  as 
described  by  Cicero  and  Quinctilian.     He  lectured,  in  1811,  at  the 
Royal  Institution  and  elsewhere.     When   Rogers    was  asked  if   he 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  1 7 

Could  never  make  a  memory  so  fine  as 
That  which  adorned  the  brain  of  Donna  Inez. 

XII. 

Her  favourite  science  was  the  mathematical, 
Her  noblest  virtue  was  her  magnanimity, 

Her  wit  (she  sometimes  tried  at  wit)  was  Attic  all, 
Her  serious  sayings  darkened  to  sublimity  ;  '• 

In  short,  in  all  things  she  was  fairly  what  I  call 
A  prodigy — her  morning  dress  was  dimity, 

Her  evening  silk,  or,  in  the  summer,  muslin, 

And  other  stuffs,  with  which  I  won't  stay  puzzling. 

XIII. 

She  knew  the  Latin — that  is,  "  the  Lord's  prayer," 
And  Greek — the  alphabet — I  'm  nearly  sure; 

She  read  some  French  romances  here  and  there, 
Although  her  mode  of  speaking  was  not  pure ; 

For  native  Spanish  she  had  no  great  care, 
At  least  her  conversation  was  obscure ; 

Her  thoughts  were  theorems,  her  words  a  problem, 

As  if  she  deemed  that  mystery  would  ennoble  'em. 

XIV. 

She  liked  the  English  and  the  Hebrew  tongue, 
And  said  there  was  analogy  between  'em ; 

She  proved  it  somehow  out  of  sacred  song, 

But  I  must  leave  the  proofs  to  those  who  've  seen  'em ; 

But  this  I  heard  her  say,  and  can't  be  wrong, 

And  all  may  think  which  way  their  judgments  lean  'em, 

'"T  is  strange — the  Hebrew  noun  which  means  '  I  am,' 

The  English  always  use  to  govern  d — n." 

xv. 

Some  women  use  their  tongues — she  looked  a  lecture, 
Each  eye  a  sermon,  and  her  brow  a  homily, 

An  all-in-all  sufficient  self-director, 

Like  the  lamented  late  Sir  Samuel  Romilly,1 

i.  Little  she  spoke — but  -what  slit  spoke  was  Attic  all, 

With  words  and  deeds  in  perfect  unanimity. — [MS.] 

attended  the  lectures,  he  replied,  "No;  J  wished  to  learn  the  Art  of 
Forgetting"  (Table-Talk  of  Samuel  Rogers,  1856,  p.  42).] 
i.  [Sir  Samuel   Romilly,   born   1757,   lost  his  wife  on  the  zgth  of 

VOL.  VI.  C 


1 8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

The  Law's  expounder,  and  the  State's  corrector, 

Whose  suicide  was  almost  an  anomaly — 
One  sad  example  more,  that  "  All  is  vanity," — 
(The  jury  brought  their  verdict  in  "  Insanity  ! ") 

XVI. 

In  short,  she  was  a  walking  calculation, 

Miss  Edgeworth's  novels  stepping  from  their  covers,1 
Or  Mrs.  Trimmer's  books  on  education,2 

Or  "  Coelebs'  Wife  "  3  set  out  in  quest  of  lovers, 
Morality's  prim  personification, 

In  which  not  Envy's  self  a  flaw  discovers ; 
To  others'  share  let  "  female  errors  fall,"  * 
For  she  had  not  even  one — the  worst  of  all. 

XVII. 

Oh  !  she  was  perfect  past  all  parallel — 
Of  any  modern  female  saint's  comparison ; 

October,  and  committed  suicide  on  the  and  of  November,  1818. — "  But 
there  will  come  a  day  of  reckoning,  even  if  I  should  not  live  to  see  it. 
I  have  at  least  seen  Romilly  shivered,  who  was  one  of  the  assassins. 
When  that  felon  or  lunatic  .  .  .  was  doing  his  worst  to  uproot  my  whole 
family,  tree,  branch,  and  blossoms — when,  after  taking  my  retainer,  he 
went  over  to  them  [see  Letters,  1899,  iii.  324] — when  he  was  bringing 
desolation  ...  on  my  household  gods — did  he  think  that,  in  less  than 
three  years,  a  natural  event — a  severe,  domestic,  but  an  unexpected  and 
common  calamity — would  lay  his  carcase  in  a  cross-road,  or  stamp  his 
name  in  a  verdict  of  Lunacy  !  Did  he  (who  in  his  drivelling  sexagenary 
dotage  had  not  the  courage  to  survive  his  Nurse — for  what  else  was  a 
wife  to  him  at  his  time  of  life?) — reflect  or  consider  what  my  feelings 
must  have  been,  when  wife,  and  child,  and  sister,  and  name,  and  fame, 
and  country,  were  to  be  my  sacrifice  on  his  legal  altar, — and  this  at  a 
moment  when  my  health  was  declining,  my  fortune  embarrassed,  and 
my  mind  had  been  shaken  by  many  kinds  of  disappointment — while  I 
was  yet  young,  and  might  have  reformed  what  might  be  wrong  in  my 
conduct,  and  retrieved  what  was  perplexing  in  my  affairs  !  But  the 
wretch  is  in  his  grave,"  etc. — Letter  to  Murray,  June  7,  1819,  Letters, 
1900,  iv.  316.] 

1.  [Maria  Edgeworth  (1767-1849)  published  Castle  Rackrent,  etc., 
etc.,  etc.,  in  1800.     "  In  1813,"  says  Byron,  "  I  recollect  to  have  met 
them  [the  Edgeworths]  in  the  fashionable  world  of  London.  .  .  .  She 
was  a  nice  little  unassuming  '  Jeannie  Deans-looking  body,'  as  we 
Scotch  say ;  and  if  not  handsome,  certainly  not  ill-looking  "  (Diary, 
January  19,  1821,  Letters,  1901,  v.  177-179.] 

2.  [Sarah  Trimmer  (1741-1810)  published,  in  1782,  Easy  Introduction 
to  the  Study  of  Nature;  History  of  the  Robins    (dedicated  to  the 
Princess  Sophia)  in  1786,  etc.] 

3.  [Hannah  More  (1745-1833)  published  Calebs  in.  Search  of  a  Wife 
in  1809.] 

4.  [Pope,  Rape  of  the  Lock,  Canto  II.  line  17.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  Ig 

So  far  above  the  cunning  powers  of  Hell, 

Her  Guardian  Angel  had  given  up  his  garrison ; 

Even  her  minutest  motions  went  as  well 
As  those  of  the  best  time-piece  made  by  Harrison  : x 

In  virtues  nothing  earthly  could  surpass  her, 

Save  thine  "  incomparable  oil,"  Macassar  !  2 

XVIII. 

Perfect  she  was,  but  as  perfection  is 

Insipid  in  this  naughty  world  of  ours, 
Where  our  first  parents  never  learned  to  kiss 

Till  they  were  exiled  from  their  earlier  bowers, 
Where  all  was  peace,  and  innocence,  and  bliss,1- 

(I  wonder  how  they  got  through  the  twelve  hours), 
Don  Jose,  like  a  lineal  son  of  Eve, 
Went  plucking  various  fruit  without  her  leave. 

XIX. 

He  was  a  mortal  of  the  careless  kind, 
With  no  great  love  for  learning,  or  the  learned, 

Who  chose  to  go  where'er  he  had  a  mind, 
And  ne*ver  dreamed  his  lady  was  concerned ; 

The  world,  as  usual,  wickedly  inclined 
To  see  a  kingdom  or  a  house  o'erturned, 

Whispered  he  had  a  mistress,  some  said  two. 

But  for  domestic  quarrels  one  will  do. 

xx. 

Now  Donna  Inez  had,  with  all  her  merit, 
A  great  opinion  of  her  own  good  qualities ; 

i.    Where  all  was  innocence  and  quiet  bliss. — [MS.] 

1.  [John  Harrison  (1693-1776),  known  as  "Longitude"  Harrison, 
was  the  inventor  of  watch  compensation.     He  received,  in  slowly  and 
reluctantly  paid  instalments,  a  sum  of  ,£20,000  from  the  Government, 
for  producing  a  chronometer  which   should   determine  the  longitude 
within  half  a  degree.    A  watch  which  contained  his  latest  improvements 
was  worn  by  Captain  Cook  during  his  three  years'  circumnavigation 
of  the  globe.] 

2.  "Description  des  vertus  incomparables  de  1'Huile  de  Macassar." 
See  the  Advertisement.     [An  Historical,  Philosophical  and  Practical 
Essay  on  the  Human  Hair,  was  published  by  Alexander  Rowland,  jun.( 
in  1816.     It  was  inscribed,   "To  her  Royal  Highness  the   Princess 
Charlotte  of  Wales  and  Cobourg."] 


20  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

Neglect,  indeed,  requires  a  saint  to  bear  it, 
And  such,  indeed,  she  was  in  her  moralities ;  '• 

But  then  she  had  a  devil  of  a  spirit, 

And  sometimes  mixed  up  fancies  with  realities, 

And  let  few  opportunities  escape 

Of  getting  her  liege  lord  into  a  scrape. 

XXI. 

This  was  an  easy  matter  with  a  man 

Oft  in  the  wrong,  and  never  on  his  guard ; 

And  even  the  wisest,  do  the  best  they  can, 

Have  moments,  hours,  and  days,  so  unprepared, 

That  you  might  "  brain  them  with  their  lady's  fan ;  "  l 
And  sometimes  ladies  hit  exceeding  hard, 

And  fans  turn  into  falchions  in  fair  hands, 

And  why  and  wherefore  no  one  understands. 

XXII. 

'T  is  pity  learned  virgins  ever  wed 

With  persons  of  no  sort  of  education, 
Or  gentlemen,  who,  though  well  born  and  bred, 

Grow  tired  of  scientific  conversation  : 
I  don't  choose  to  say  much  upon  this  head, 

I  'm  a  plain  man,  and  in  a  single  station, 
But — Oh  !  ye  lords  of  ladies  intellectual, 
Inform  us  truly,  have  they  not  hen-pecked  you  all  ? 

XXIII. 

Don  Josd  and  his  lady  quarrelled — why, 

Not  any  of  the  many  could  divine, 
Though  several  thousand  people  chose  to  try, 

'T  was  surely  no  concern  of  theirs  nor  mine ; 
I  loathe  that  low  vice — curiosity ; 

But  if  there  's  anything  in  which  I  shine, 
'T  is  in  arranging  all  my  friends'  affairs, 
Not  having,  of  my  own,  domestic  cares. 

i.  And  so  she  seemed,  in  all  outside  formalities. — [MS.] 

i.  ["  'Zounds,  an  I  were  now  by  this  rascal,  I  could  brain  him  with 
his  lady's  fan." — i  Henry  IV,,  act  ii.  sc.  3,  lines  19,  20.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  21 

XXIV. 

And  so  I  interfered,  and  with  the  best 

Intentions,  but  their  treatment  was  not  kind ; 

I  think  the  foolish  people  were  possessed, 
For  neither  of  them  could  I  ever  find, 

Although  their  porter  afterwards  confessed — 
But  that 's  no  matter,  and  the  worst 's  behind, 

For  little  Juan  o'er  me  threw,  down  stairs, 

A  pail  of  housemaid's  water  unawares. 

xxv. 
A  little  curly-headed,  good-for-nothing, 

And  mischief-making  monkey  from  his  birth ; 
His  parents  ne'er  agreed  except  in  doting 

Upon  the  most  unquiet  imp  on  earth ; 
Instead  of  quarrelling,  had  they  been  but  both  in 

Their  senses,  they  'd  have  sent  young  master  forth 
To  school,  or  had  him  soundly  whipped  at  home, 
To  teach  him  manners  for  the  time  to  come. 

XXVI. 

Don  Jose  and  the  Donna  Inez  led 

For  some  time  an  unhappy  sort  of  life, 

Wishing  each  other,  not  divorced,  but  dead ;  '• 
They  lived  respectably  as  man  and  wife, 

Their  conduct  was  exceedingly  well-bred, 
And  gave  no  outward  signs  of  inward  strife, 

Until  at  length  the  smothered  fire  broke  out, 

And  put  the  business  past  all  kind  of  doubt. 

xxvn. 

For  Inez  called  some  druggists  and  physicians, 
And  tried  to  prove  her  loving  lord  was  mad,1 

i.    Wishing  each  other  damned,  divorced,  or  dead. — [MS,] 

i.  [According  to  Medwin  (Conversations,  1824,  p.  55),  Byron  "was 
surprised  one  day  by  a  Doctor  and  a  Lawyer  almost  forcing  themselves 
at  the  same  time  into  my  room.  I  did  not  know,"  he  adds,  "  till  after- 
wards the  real  object  of  their  visit.  I  thought  their  questions  singular, 
frivolous,  and  somewhat  importunate,  if  not  impertinent  :  but  what 
should  I  have  thought,  if  I  had  known  that  they  were  sent  to  provide 
proofs  of  my  insanity?"  Lady  Byron,  in  her  Remarks  on  Mr.  Moore's 
Life,  etc.  (Life,  pp.  661-663),  savs  tnat  -Dr.  Baillie  (vide  fast,  p.  412, 


22  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

But  as  he  had  some  lucid  intermissions, 

She  next  decided  he  was  only  bad; 
Yet  when  they  asked  her  for  her  depositions, 

No  sort  of  explanation  could  be  had, 
Save  that  her  duty  both  to  man  and  God l 
Required  this  conduct — which  seemed  very  odd.2 

XXVIII. 

She  kept  a  journal,  where  his  faults  were  noted, 
And  opened  certain  trunks  of  books  and  letters,3 

All  which  might,  if  occasion  served,  be  quoted ; 
And  then  she  had  all  Seville  for  abettors, 

Besides  her  good  old  grandmother  (who  doted) ; 
The  hearers  of  her  case  became  repeaters, 

Then  advocates,  inquisitors,  and  judges, 

Some  for  amusement,  others  for  old  grudges. 

XXIX. 

And  then  this  best  and  meekest  woman  bore 
With  such  serenity  her  husband's  woes, 

Just  as  the  Spartan  ladies  did  of  yore, 
Who  saw  their  spouses  killed,  and  nobly  chose 

Never  to  say  a  word  about  them  more — 
Calmly  she  heard  each  calumny  that  rose, 

And  saw  his  agonies  with  such  sublimity, 

That  all  the  world  exclaimed,  "  What  magnanimity  !  " 

note  2),  whom  she  consulted  with  regard  to  her  husband's  supposed 
insanity,  "  not  having  had  access  to  Lord  Byron,  could  not  pronounce 
a  positive  opinion  on  this  point."  It  appears,  however,  that  another 
doctor,  a  Mr.  I>e  Mann  (see  Letters,  1899,  iii.  293,  note  i,  295,  299, 
etc.),  visited  Byron  professionally,  and  reported  on  his  condition  to 
Lady  Byron.  Hence,  perhaps,  the  mention  of  "  druggists."] 

1.  ["I  deem  it  my  duty  to  God  to  act  as  I  am  acting." — Letter  of 
Lady  Byron  to  Mrs.  Leigh,  February  14,  1816,  Letters,  1899,  iii.  311.] 

2.  ["This  is  so  very  pointed." — [PHobhouse.]     "If  people  make 
application,  it  is  their  own  fault." — [B.]. — [Revise.]  ] 

3.  ["There  is  some  doubt   about  this." — [H.]     "What  has  the 
'  doubt '  to  do  with  the  poem  ?  it  is,  at  least,  poetically  true.     Why 
apply  everything  to  that  absurd  woman  ?    I  have  no  reference  to  living 
characters." — [B.]. — \Revise.~\     Medwin   (Conversations,    1824,    p.  54) 
attributes  the  "breaking  open  my  writing-desk"  to  Mrs.  Charlment 
(i.e.  Mrs.  Clermont)  the  original  of  "A  Sketch,"  Poetical  Works,  1900, 
iii.    540-544).      It   is  evident  from    Byron's   reply   to   Hobhouse's  re- 
monstrance that  Medwin  did  not  invent  this  incident,  but  that  some 
one,  perhaps  Fletcher's  wife,  had  told  him  that  his  papers  had  been 
overhauled.  ] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  23 

XXX. 

No  doubt  this  patience,  when  the  world  is  damning  us, 

Is  philosophic  in  our  former  friends ; 
'T  is  also  pleasant  to  be  deemed  magnanimous, 

The  more  so  in  obtaining  our  own  ends ; 
And  what  the  lawyers  call  a  "  mains  animus  " 

Conduct  like  this  by  no  means  comprehends  : 
Revenge  in  person  's  certainly  no  virtue, 
But  then  't  is  not  my  fault,  if  others  hurt  you. 

XXXI. 

And  if  our  quarrels  should  rip  up  old  stories, 
And  help  them  with  a  lie  or  two  additional, 

/  'm  not  to  blame,  as  you  well  know — no  more  is 
Any  one  else — they  were  become  traditional ; 

Besides,  their  resurrection  aids  our  glories 

By  contrast,  which  is  what  we  just  were  wishing  all : 

And  Science  profits  by  this  resurrection — 

Dead  scandals  form  good  subjects  for  dissection. 

XXXII. 

Their  friends  had  tried  at  reconciliation,'1 

Then  their  relations,  who  made  matters  worse. 

('T  were  hard  to  tell  upon  a  like  occasion 
To  whom  it  may  be  best  to  have  recourse — 

I  can't  say  much  for  friend  or  yet  relation) : 
The  lawyers  did  their  utmost  for  divorce,11- 

But  scarce  a  fee  was  paid  on  either  side 

Before,  unluckily,  Don  Jose  died. 

XXXIII. 

He  died :  and  most  unluckily,  because, 

According  to  all  hints  I  could  collect 
From  Counsel  learned  in  those  kinds  of  laws, 

(Although  their  talk  's  obscure  and  circumspect) 
His  death  contrived  to  spoil  a  charming  cause ; 

A  thousand  pities  also  with  respect 
To  public  feeling,  which  on  this  occasion 
Was  manifested  in  a  great  sensation. 

i.  First  their  friends  tried  at  reconciliation. — [MS.] 
ii.   The  lawyers  recommended  a  divorce. — [MS.] 


24  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

xxxiv. 

But  ah  !  he  died ;  and  buried  with  him  lay 
The  public  feeling  and  the  lawyers'  fees : 

His  house  was  sold,  his  servants  sent  away, 
A  Jew  took  one  of  his  two  mistresses, 

A  priest  the  other — at  least  so  they  say  : 
I  asked  the  doctors  after  his  disease — 

He  died  of  the  slow  fever  called  the  tertian, 

And  left  his  widow  to  her  own  aversion. 

xxxv. 

Yet  Jose*  was  an  honourable  man, 

That  I  must  say,  who  knew  him  very  well ; 

Therefore  his  frailties  I  '11  no  further  scan, 
Indeed  there  were  not  many  more  to  tell : 

And  if  his  passions  now  and  then  outran 
Discretion,  and  were  not  so  peaceable 

As  Numa's  (who  was  also  named  Pompilius),1' 

He  had  been  ill  brought  up,  and  was  born  bilious. 

XXXVI. 

Whate'er  might  be  his  worthlessness  or  worth, 
Poor  fellow  !  he  had  many  things  to  wound  him. 

Let 's  own — since  it  can  do  no  good  on  earth"- — 
It  was  a  trying  moment  that  which  found  him 

Standing  alone  beside  his  desolate  hearth, 
Where  all  his  household  gods  lay  shivered  round  him  :  * 


i.  He  had  been  ill  brought  up,  «  J»       bilious. 

or,  The  reason  was,  perhaps,  that  he  was  bilious.  —  [A/S.] 
ii.  And  we  may  own  —  since  he  is  <  "a^  ^n  >  earth.  —  [MS.] 


i.  ["I  could  have  forgiven  the  dagger  or  the  bowl,  —  any  thing  but 
the  deliberate  desolation  piled  upon  me,  when  I  stood  alone  upon  my 
hearth,  with  my  household  gods  shivered  around  me.  .  .  .  Do  you  sup- 
pose I  have  forgotten  it  ?  It  has,  comparatively,  swallowed  up  in  me 
every  other  feeling,  and  I  am  only  a  spectator  upon  earth  till  a  tenfold 
opportunity  offers."  —  Letter  to  Moore,  September  19,  1818,  Letters, 
1900,  iv.  262,  263.  Compare,  too  — 

"  I  had  one  only  fount  of  quiet  left, 
And  that  they  poisoned  !     My  pure  household  gods 
Were  shivered  on  my  hearth,  and  o'er  their  shrine 
Sate  grinning  Ribaldry  and  sneering  Scorn.  " 

Marino  Faliero,  act  iii.  sc.  u,  lines  361-364.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  25 

No  choice  was  left  his  feelings  or  his  pride, 
Save  Death  or  Doctors'  Commons — so  he  died.1' 

XXXVII. 

Dying  intestate,  Juan  was  sole  heir 
To  a  chancery  suit,  and  messuages,  and  lands, 

Which,  with  a  long  minority  and  care, 

Promised  to  turn  out  well  in  proper  hands  : 

Inez  became  sole  guardian,  which  was  fair, 
And  answered  but  to  Nature's  just  demands ; 

An  only  son  left  with  an  only  mother 

Is  brought  up  much  more  wisely  than  another. 

XXXVIII. 

Sagest  of  women,  even  of  widows,  she 

Resolved  that  Juan  should  be  quite  a  paragon, 

And  worthy  of  the  noblest  pedigree, 

(His  Sire  was  of  Castile,  his  Dam  from  Aragon)  : 

Then,  for  accomplishments  of  chivalry, 

In  case  our  Lord  the  King  should  go  to  war  again, 

He  learned  the  arts  of  riding,  fencing,  gunnery, 

And  how  to  scale  a  fortress — or  a  nunnery. 

xxxix. 

But  that  which  Donna  Inez  most  desired, 
And  saw  into  herself  each  day  before  all 

The  learned  tutors  whom  for  him  she  hired, 
Was,  that  his  breeding  should  be  strictly  moral : 

Much  into  all  his  studies  she  inquired, 

And  so  they  were  submitted  first  to  her,  all, 

Arts,  sciences — no  branch  was  made  a  mystery 

To  Juan's  eyes,  excepting  natural  history. 

XL. 

The  languages,  especially  the  dead, 

The  sciences,  and  most  of  all  the  abstruse, 

The  arts,  at  least  all  such  as  could  be  said 
To  be  the  most  remote  from  common  use, 

In  all  these  he  was  much  and  deeply  read  : 
But  not  a  page  of  anything  that 's  loose, 


26  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

Or  hints  continuation  of  the  species, 

Was  ever  suffered,  lest  he  should  grow  vicious. 

XLI. 
His  classic  studies  made  a  little  puzzle, 

Because  of  filthy  loves  of  gods  and  goddesses, 
Who  in  the  earlier  ages  raised  a  bustle, 

But  never  put  on  pantaloons  or  bodices ; 1 
His  reverend  tutors  had  at  times  a  tussle, 

And  for  their  ^Eneids,  Iliads,  and  Odysseys,'4 
Were  forced  to  make  an  odd  sort  of  apology, 
For  Donna  Inez  dreaded  the  Mythology. 

XLII. 
Ovid  's  a  rake,  as  half  his  verses  show  him, 

Anacreon's  morals  are  a  still  worse  sample, 
Catullus  scarcely  has  a  decent  poem, 

I  don't  think  Sappho's  Ode  a  good  example, 
Although  Longinus  2  tells  us  there  is  no  hymn 

Where  the  Sublime  soars  forth  on  wings  more  ample ; 
But  Virgil's  songs  are  pure,  except  that  horrid  one 
Beginning  with  "  Formostim  Pastor  Corydon."  3 

i.  Defending  still  their  Iliads  and  Odysseys. — [MS.] 

1.  [Compare  Leigh  Hunt  on  the  illustrations  to  Andrew  Tooke's 
Pantheon :   "I  see  before  me,  as  vividly  now  as  ever,  his  Mars  and 
Apollo  .  .  .  and  Venus  very  handsome,  we  thought,  and  not  looking 
too  modest  in  a  '  light  cymar.' " — Autobiography,  1860,  p.  75.] 

2.  See  Longinus,  Section  10,  "alva  ^  tv  TI  irfpl  avr^v  ir&Qos  tyaivn- 
TOJ,  iraBiav  8e  avvoSos." 

["The  effect  desired  is  that  not  one  passion  only  should  be  seen  in 
her,  but  a  concourse  of  passions  "  (Longinus  on  the  Sublime,  by  W. 
Rhys  Roberts,  1899,  pp.  70,  71). 

The  Ode  alluded  to  is  the  famous  Qatverai  poi  Krjvos  fcros  Beolffiv, 

K.T.A. 

"  Him  rival  to  the  gods  I  place ; 
Him  loftier  yet,  if  loftier  be, 
Who,  Lesbia,  sits  before  thy  face, 
Who  listens  and  who  looks  on  thee." 

W.  E.  Gladstone. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  are  quite  held  out  by  the  quotation.  Longinus 
says  the  circumstantial  assemblage  of  the  passions  makes  the  sublime ; 
he  does  not  talk  of  the  sublime  being  soaring  and  ample." — [H.j 
"I  do  not  care  for  this— it  must  stand."— [R.\— [Marginal  notes  in 
Revise.  ]  ] 

3.  [BucoL,  Eel.  ii.  "Alexis."] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  27 

XLIII. 

Lucretius'  irreligion  is  too  strong 

For  early  stomachs,  to  prove  wholesome  food  ; 
I  can't  help  thinking  Juvenal  was  wrong, 

Although  no  doubt  his  real  intent  was  good, 
For  speaking  out  so  plainly  in  his  song, 

So  much  indeed  as  to  be  downright  rude  ; 
And  then  what  proper  person  can  be  partial 
To  all  those  nauseous  epigrams  of  Martial  ? 
XLIV. 

Juan  was  taught  from  out  the  best  edition, 
Expurgated  by  learned  men,  who  place, 

Judiciously,  from  out  the  schoolboy's  vision, 
The  grosser  parts  ;  but,  fearful  to  deface 

Too  much  their  modest  bard  by  this  omission,1' 
And  pitying  sore  his  mutilated  case, 

They  only  add  them  all  in  an  appendix,1 

Which  saves,  in  fact,  the  trouble  of  an  index  ; 

XLV. 
For  there  we  have  them  all  "  at  one  fell  swoop," 

Instead  of  being  scattered  through  the  pages  ; 
They  stand  forth  marshalled  in  a  handsome  troop, 

To  meet  the  ingenuous  youth  of  future  ages, 
Till  some  less  rigid  editor  shall  stoop 

To  call  them  back  into  their  separate  cages, 
Instead  of  standing  staring  all  together, 
Like  garden  gods  —  and  not  so  decent  either. 

XLVI. 
The  Missal  too  (it  was  the  family  Missal) 

Was  ornamented  in  a  sort  of  way 
Which  ancient  mass-books  often  are,  and  this  all 

Kinds  of  grotesques  illumined  ;  and  how  they, 


I    antique   \  ,  ens;on  •> 

modest    \  bard  by  the  <  0)njSSf0n  f  •  —  [MS.  ] 
downright]  ' 

i.  Fact  !  There  is,  or  was,  such  an  edition,  with  all  the  obnoxious 
epigrams  of  Martial  placed  by  themselves  at  the  end. 

[In  the  Delphin  Martial  (Amsterdam,  1701)  the  Epigrammata 
Obsccena  are  printed  as  an  Appendix  (pp.  2-56),  "  [Ne]  quicquam  deside- 
raretur  a  morosis  quibusdam  hominibus."") 


28  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

Who  saw  those  figures  on  the  margin  kiss  all, 

Could  turn  their  optics  to  the  text  and  pray, 
Is  more  than  I  know — But  Don  Juan's  mother 
Kept  this  herself,  and  gave  her  son  another. 

XLVII. 

Sermons  he  read,  and  lectures  he  endured, 
And  homilies,  and  lives  of  all  the  saints ; 

To  Jerome  and  to  Chrysostom  inured, 

He  did  not  take  such  studies  for  restraints ; 

But  how  Faith  is  acquired,  and  then  insured, 
So  well  not  one  of  the  aforesaid  paints 

As  Saint  Augustine  in  his  fine  Confessions, 

Which  make  the  reader  envy  his  transgressions.1 

XLVIII. 

This,  too,  was  a  sealed  book  to  little  Juan — 
I  can't  but  say  that  his  mamma  was  right, 

If  such  an  education  was  the  true  one. 

She  scarcely  trusted  him  from  out  her  sight ; 

Her  maids  were  old,  and  if  she  took  a  new  one, 
You  might  be  sure  she  was  a  perfect  fright ; 

She  did  this  during  even  her  husband's  life — 

I  recommend  as  much  to  every  wife. 

XLIX. 

Young  Juan  waxed  in  goodliness  and  grace ; 

At  six  a  charming  child,  and  at  eleven 
With  all  the  promise  of  as  fine  a  face 

As  e'er  to  Man's  maturer  growth  was  given  : 
He  studied  steadily,  and  grew  apace, 

And  seemed,  at  least,  in  the  right  road  to  Heaven, 
For  half  his  days  were  passed  at  church,  the  other 
Between  his  tutors,  confessor,  and  mother. 

i.  See  his  Confessions,  lib.  i.  cap.  ix. ;  [lib.  ii.  cap.  ii.,  et  passim}. 
By  the  representation  which  Saint  Augustine  gives  of  himself  in  his 
youth,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  he  was  what  we  should  call  a  rake.  He 
avoided  the  school  as  the  plague ;  he  loved  nothing  but  gaming  and 
public  shows  ;  he  robbed  his  father  of  everything  he  could  find  ;  he  in- 
vented a  thousand  lies  to  escape  the  rod,  which  they  were  obliged  to 
make  use  of  to  punish  his  irregularities. 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  29 

L. 

At  six,  I  said,  he  was  a  charming  child, 
At  twelve  he  was  a  fine,  but  quiet  boy ; 

Although  in  infancy  a  little  wild, 

They  tamed  him  down  amongst  them  :  to  destroy 

His  natural  spirit  not  in  vain  they  toiled, 
At  least  it  seemed  so ;  and  his  mother's  joy 

Was  to  declare  how  sage,  and  still,  and  steady, 

Her  young  philosopher  was  grown  already. 

LI. 

I  had  my  doubt*,  perhaps  I  have  them  still, 
But  what  I  say  is  neither  here  nor  there  : 

I  knew  his  father  well,  and  have  some  skill 
In  character — but  it  would  not  be  fair 

From  sire  to  son  to  augur  good  or  ill : 
He  and  his  wife  were  an  ill-sorted  pair — 

But  scandal 's  my  aversion — I  protest 

Against  all  evil  speaking,  even  in  jest. 

LII. 

For  my  part  I  say  nothing — nothing — but 
This  I  will  say — my  reasons  are  my  own — 

That  if  I  had  an  only  son  to  put 

To  school  (as  God  be  praised  that  I  have  none), 

'T  is  not  with  Donna  Inez  I  would  shut 
Him  up  to  learn  his  catechism  alone, 

No — no — I  'd  send  him  out  betimes  to  college, 

For  there  it  was  I  picked  up  my  own  knowledge. 

LIII. 

For  there  one  learns — 't  is  not  for  me  to  boast, 
Though  I  acquired — but  I  pass  over  that, 

As  well  as  all  the  Greek  I  since  have  lost : 

I  say  that  there  's  the  place — but  "  Verbum  sat" 

I  think  I  picked  up  too,  as  well  as  most, 

Knowledge  of  matters — but  no  matter  what — 

I  never  married — but,  I  think,  I  know 

That  sons  should  not  be  educated  so. 


3°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

LIV. 

Young  Juan  now  was  sixteen  years  of  age, 

Tall,  handsome,  slender,  but  well  knit :  he  seemed 

Active,  though  not  so  sprightly,  as  a  page  ; 
And  everybody  but  his  mother  deemed 

Him  almost  man ;  but  she  flew  in  a  rage  l 

And  bit  her  lips  (for  else  she  might  have  screamed) 

If  any  said  so — for  to  be  precocious 

Was  in  her  eyes  a  thing  the  most  atrocious. 

LV. 
Amongst  her  numerous  acquaintance,  all 

Selected  for  discretion  and  devotion, 
There  was  the  Donna  Julia,  whom  to  call 

Pretty  were  but  to  give  a  feeble  notion 
Of  many  charms  in  her  as  natural 

As  sweetness  to  the  flower,  or  salt  to  Ocean, 
Her  zone  to  Venus,  or  his  bow  to  Cupid, 
(But  this  last  simile  is  trite  and  stupid.) 

LVI. 
The  darkness  of  her  Oriental  eye 

Accorded  with  her  Moorish  origin ; 
(Her  blood  was  not  all  Spanish ;  by  the  by, 

In  Spain,  you  know,  this  is  a  sort  of  sin ;) 
When  proud  Granada  fell,  and,  forced  to  fly, 

Boabdil  wept : 2  of  Donna  Julia's  kin 
Some  went  to  Africa,  some  stayed  in  Spain — 
Her  great  great  grandmamma  chose  to  remain. 

1.  [Byron's  early  letters  are  full  of  complaints  of  his  mother's  violent 
temper.    See,  for  instance,  letter  to  the  Hon.  Augusta  Byron,  April  23, 
1805.    In  another  letter  to  John  M.  B.  Pigot,  August  9,  1806,  he  speaks 
of  her  as  "  Mrs.  Byron  'furiosa'"  (Letters,  1898,  i.  60,  101).] 

2.  ["  Having  surrendered  the  last  symbol  of  power,  the  unfortunate 
Boabdil  continued  on  towards  the  Alpuxarras,  that  he  might  not  behold 
the  entrance  of  the  Christians  into  his  capital.  .  .  .  Having  ascended  an 
eminence  commanding  the  last  view  of  Granada,  the  Moors  paused  in- 
voluntarily to  take  a  farewell  gaze  at  their  beloved  city,  which  a  few  steps 
more  would  shut  from  their  sight  for  ever.  .  .  .  The  heart  of  Boabdil, 
softened  by  misfortunes,  and  overcharged  with  grief,  could  no  longer 
contain  itself.     '  Allah  achbar  !    God  is  great  ! '  said  he  ;  but  the  words 
of  resignation  died  upon  his  lips,  and  he  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. " — 
Chronicle  of  the  Conquest  of  Granada,  by  Washington  Irving,  1829,  ii. 
379-381.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  31 

LVII. 

She  married  (I  forget  the  pedigree) 

With  an  Hidalgo,  who  transmitted  down 

His  blood  less  noble  than  such  blood  should  be  ; 
At  such  alliances  his  sires  would  frown, 

In  that  point  so  precise  in  each  degree 

That  they  bred  in  and  tn,  as  might  be  shown, 

Marrying  their  cousins — nay,  their  aunts,  and  nieces, 

Which  always  spoils  the  breed,  if  it  increases. 

LVIII. 
This  heathenish  cross  restored  the  breed  again, 

Ruined  its  blood,  but  much  improved  its  flesh ; 
For  from  a  root  the  ugliest  in  Old  Spain 

Sprung  up  a  branch  as  beautiful  as  fresh  • 
The  sons  no  more  were  short,  the  daughters  plain : 

But  there  's  a  rumour  which  I  fain  would  hush,'' 
'T  is  said  that  Donna  Julia's  grandmamma 
Produced  her  Don  more  heirs  at  love  than  law. 

LIX. 

However  this  might  be,  the  race  went  on 
Improving  still  through  every  generation, 

Until  it  centred  in  an  only  son, 

Who  left  an  only  daughter ;  my  narration 

May  have  suggested  that  this  single  one 
Could  be  but  Julia  (whom  on  this  occasion 

I  shall  have  much  to  speak  about),  and  she 

Was  married,  charming,  chaste,  and  twenty-three. 

LX. 

Her  eye  (I  'm  very  fond  of  handsome  eyes) 
Was  large  and  dark,  suppressing  half  its  fire 

Until  she  spoke,  then  through  its  soft  disguise 
Flashed  an  expression  more  of  pride  than  ire, 

And  love  than  either ;  and  there  would  arise 
A  something  in  them  which  was  not  desire, 

But  would  have  been,  perhaps,  but  for  the  soul 

Which  struggled  through  and  chastened  down  the  whole. 


32  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

LXl. 

Her  glossy  hair  was  clustered  o'er  a  brow 

Bright  with  intelligence,  and  fair,  and  smooth ; 

Her  eyebrow's  shape  was  like  the  aerial  bow, 
Her  cheek  all  purple  with  the  beam  of  youth, 

Mounting,  at  times,  to  a  transparent  glow, 
As  if  her  veins  ran  lightning ;  she,  in  sooth, 

Possessed  an  air  and  grace  by  no  means  common  : 

Her  stature  tall — I  hate  a  dumpy  woman. 

LXII. 
Wedded  she  was  some  years,  and  to  a  man 

Of  fifty,  and  such  husbands  are  in  plenty ; 
And  yet,  I  think,  instead  of  such  a  ONE 

'T  were  better  to  have  TWO  of  five-and-twenty, 
Especially  in  countries  near  the  sun : 

And  now  I  think  on  't,  "  mi vien  in  mente" 
Ladies  even  of  the  most  uneasy  virtue 
Prefer  a  spouse  whose  age  is  short  of  thirty.'- 

LXIII. 
'T  is  a  sad  thing,  I  cannot  choose  but  say, 

And  all  the  fault  of  that  indecent  sun, 
Who  cannot  leave  alone  our  helpless  clay, 

But  will  keep  baking,  broiling,  burning  on, 
That  howsoever  people  fast  and  pray, 

The  flesh  is  frail,  and  so  the  soul  undone  : 
What  men  call  gallantry,  and  gods  adultery, 
Is  much  more  common  where  the  climate  's  sultry. 

LXIV. 
Happy  the  nations  of  the  moral  North ! 

Where  all  is  virtue,  and  the  winter  season 
Sends  sin,  without  a  rag  on,  shivering  forth 

('T  was  snow  that  brought  St.  Anthony  l  to  reason) ; 

i.  Spouses  from  twenty  years  of  age  to  thirty 

Are  most  admired  by  women  of<.SJJjj  \  virtue. — [MS.] 

i.  For  the  particulars  of  St.  Anthony's  recipe  for  hot  blood  in  cold 
weather,  see  Mr.  Alban  Butler's  Lives  of  the  Saints. 

["  I  am  not  sure  it  was  not  St.  Francis  who  had  the  wife  of  snow — in 
that  case  the  line  must  run,  '  St.  Francis  back  to  reason.' " — [MS.  M.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  33 

Where  juries  cast  up  what  a  wife  is  worth, 

By  laying  whate'er  sum,  in  mulct,  they  please  on 
The  lover,  who  must  pay  a  handsome  price, 
Because  it  is  a  marketable  vice. 

LXV. 
Alfonso  was  the  name  of  Julia's  lord, 

A  man  well  looking  for  his  years,  and  who 
Was  neither  much  beloved  nor  yet  abhorred : 

They  lived  together  as  most  people  do, 
Suffering  each  other's  foibles  by  accord, 

And  not  exactly  either  om  or  two  ; 
Yet  he  was  jealous,  though  he  did  not  show  it, 
For  Jealousy  dislikes  the  world  to  know  it. 

LXVI. 
Julia  was — yet  I  never  could  see  why — 

With  Donna  Inez  quite  a  favourite  friend ; 
Between  their  tastes  there  was  small  sympathy, 

For  not  a  line  had  Julia  ever  penned : 
Some  people  whisper  (but,  no  doubt,  they  lie, 

For  Malice  still  imputes  some  private  end) 
That  Inez  had,  ere  Don  Alfonso's  marriage, 
Forgot  with  him  her  very  prudent  carriage ; 

LXVII. 
And  that  still  keeping  up  the  old  connection, 

Which  Time  had  lately  tendered  much  more  chaste, 
She  took  his  lady  also  in  affection, 

And  certainly  this  course  was  much  the  best : 
She  flattered  Julia  with  her  sage  protection, 

And  complimented  Don  Alfonso's  taste  ; 
And  if  she  could  not  (who  can  ?)  silence  scandal, 
At  least  she  left  it  a  more  slender  handle. 

LXVIII. 

I  can't  tell  whether  Julia  saw  the  affair 
With  other  people's  eyes,  or  if  her  own 

For  the  seven  snow-balls,  of  which  "the  greatest"  was  his  wife,  see 
Life  of  "St.  Francis  of  Assisi"  (The  Golden  Legend  (edited  by  F.  S. 
Ellis),  1900,  v.  221).  See,  too,  the  Lives  of  the  Saints,  etc.,  by  the 
Rev.  Alban  Butler,  1838,  ii.  574.] 

VOL.  VI.  D 


34  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

Discoveries  made,  but  none  could  be  aware 
Of  this,  at  least  no  symptom  e'er  was  shown ; 

Perhaps  she  did  not  know,  or  did  not  care, 
Indifferent  from  the  first,  or  callous  grown  : 

I  'm  really  puzzled  what  to  think  or  say, 

She  kept  her  counsel  in  so  close  a  way. 

LXIX. 
Juan  she  saw,  and,  as  a  pretty  child, 

Caressed  him  often — such  a  thing  might  be 
Quite  innocently  done,  and  harmless  styled, 

When  she  had  twenty  years,  and  thirteen  he ; 
But  I  am  not  so  sure  I  should  have  smiled 

When  he  was  sixteen,  Julia  twenty-three ; 
These  few  short  years  make  wondrous  alterations, 
Particularly  amongst  sun-burnt  nations. 

LXX. 
Whate'er  the  cause  might  be,  they  had  become 

Changed ;  for  the  dame  grew  distant,  the  youth  shy, 
Their  looks  cast  down,  their  greetings  almost  dumb, 

And  much  embarrassment  in  either  eye ; 
There  surely  will  be  little  doubt  with  some 

That  Donna  Julia  knew  the  reason  why, 
But  as  for  Juan,  he  had  no  more  notion 
Than  he  who  never  saw  the  sea  of  Ocean. 

LXXI. 
Yet  Julia's  very  coldness  still  was  kind, 

And  tremulously  gentle  her  small  hand 
Withdrew  itself  from  his,  but  left  behind 

A  little  pressure,  thrilling,  and  so  bland 
And  slight,  so  very  slight,  that  to  the  mind 

'T  was  but  a  doubt ;  but  ne'er  magician's  wand 
Wrought  change  with  all  Armida's l  fairy  art 

Like  what  this  light  touch  left  on  Juan's  heart. 

/ 

LXXII. 

And  if  she  met  him,  though  she  smiled  no  more, 
She  looked  a  sadness  sweeter  than  her  smile, 

i.  [The  sorceress  in  Tasso's  Gen/ -akmnu  Liberata.    The  story  of 
Armida  and  Rinaldo  forms  the  plot  of  operas  by  Gliick  and  Rossini.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  35 

As  if  her  heart  had  deeper  thoughts  in  store 
She  must  not  own,  but  cherished  more  the  while 

For  that  compression  in  its  burning  core ; 
Even  Innocence  itself  has  many  a  wile, 

And  will  not  dare  to  trust  itself  with  truth, 

And  Love  is  taught  hypocrisy  from  youth. 

LXXIII. 
But  Passion  most  dissembles,  yet  betrays 

Even  by  its  darkness ;  as  the  blackest  sky 
Foretells  the  heaviest  tempest,  it  displays 

Its  workings  through  the  vainly  guarded  eye, 
And  in  whatever  aspect  it  arrays 

Itself,  't  is  still  the  same  hypocrisy  ; 
Coldness  or  Anger,  even  Disdain  or  Hate, 
Are  masks  it  often  wears,  and  still  too  late. 

LXXIV. 
Then  there  were  sighs,  the  deeper  for  suppression, 

And  stolen  glances,  sweeter  for  the  theft, 
And  burning  blushes,  though  for  no  transgression, 

Tremblings  when  met,  and  restlessness  when  left ; 
All  these  are  little  preludes  to  possession, 

Of  which  young  Passion  cannot  be  bereft, 
And  merely  tend  to  show  how  greatly  Love  is 
Embarrassed  at  first  starting  with  a  novice. 

LXXV. 
Poor  Julia's  heart  was  in  an  awkward  state ; 

She  felt  it  going,  and  resolved  to  make 
The  noblest  efforts  for  herself  and  mate, 

For  Honour's,  Pride's,  Religion's,  Virtue's  sake  : 
Her  resolutions  were  most  truly  great, 

And  almost  might  have  made  a  Tarquin  quake : 
She  prayed  the  Virgin  Mary  for  her  grace, 
As  being  the  best  judge  of  a  lady's  case.'- 

LXXVI. 

She  vowed  she  never  would  see  Juan  more, 
And  next  day  paid  a  visit  to  his  mother, 

i.  Thinking  God  might  not  understand  the  case,— [MS.  M.,  Revise.} 


36  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

And  looked  extremely  at  the  opening  door, 
Which,  by  the  Virgin's  grace,  let  in  another ; 

Grateful  she  was,  and  yet  a  little  sore — 
Again  it  opens,  it  can  be  no  other, 

'T  is  surely  Juan  now — No  !  I  'm  afraid 

That  night  the  Virgin  was  no  further  prayed.1 

LXXVII. 

She  now  determined  that  a  virtuous  woman 
Should  rather  face  and  overcome  temptation, 

That  flight  was  base  and  dastardly,  and  no  man 
Should  ever  give  her  heart  the  least  sensation, 

That  is  to  say,  a  thought  beyond  the  common 
Preference,  that  we  must  feel,  upon  occasion, 

For  people  who  are  pleasanter  than  others, 

But  then  they  only  seem  so  many  brothers. 

LXXVIII. 
And  even  if  by  chance — and  who  can  tell  ? 

The  Devil 's  so  very  sly — she  should  discover 
That  all  within  was  not  so  very  well, 

And,  if  still  free,  that  such  or  such  a  lover 
Might  please  perhaps,  a  virtuous  wife  can  quell 

Such  thoughts,  and  be  the  better  when  they  're  over ; 
And  if  the  man  should  ask,  't  is  but  denial : 
I  recommend  young  ladies  to  make  trial. 

LXXIX. 
And,  then,  there  are  such  things  as  Love  divine, 

Bright  and  immaculate,  unmixed  and  pure, 
Such  as  the  angels  think  so  very  fine, 

And  matrons,  who  would  be  no  less  secure, 
Platonic,  perfect,  "  just  such  love  as  mine ; " 

Thus  Julia  said — and  thought  so,  to  be  sure ; 
And  so  I  'd  have  her  think,  were  /  the  man 
On  whom  her  reveries  celestial  ran. 

LXXX. 
Such  love  is  innocent,  and  may  exist 

Between  young  persons  without  any  danger. 

i.  ["  Quel  giorno  piu  non  vi  leggemmo  avante." 

Dante,  Inferno,  canto  v.  line  138.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  37 

A  hand  may  first,  and  then  a  lip  be  kissed  ; 

For  ray  part,  to  such  doings  I  'm  a  stranger, 
But  hear  these  freedoms  form  the  utmost  list 

Of  all  o'er  which  such  love  may  be  a  ranger: 
If  people  go  beyond,  't  is  quite  a  crime, 
But  not  my  fault — I  tell  them  all  in  time. 

LXXXI. 

Love,  then,  but  Love  within  its  proper  limits, 

Was  Julia's  innocent  determination 
In  young  Don  Juan's  favour,  and  to  him  its 

Exertion  might  be  useful  on  occasion ; 
And,  lighted  at  too  pure  a  shrine  to  dim  its 

Ethereal  lustre,  with  what  sweet  persuasion 
He  might  be  taught,  by  Love  and  her  together — 
I  really  don't  know  what,  nor  Julia  either. 

LXXXII. 
Fraught  with  this  fine  intention,  and  well  fenced 

In  mail  of  proof — her  purity  of  soul l — 
She,  for  the  future,  of  her  strength  convinced, 

And  that  her  honour  was  a  rock,  or  mole,1' 
Exceeding  sagely  from  that  hour  dispensed 

With  any  kind  of  troublesome  control ; 
But  whether  Julia  to  the  task  was  equal 
Is  that  which  must  be  mentioned  in  the  sequel. 

LXXXI  i  r. 
Her  plan  she  deemed  both  innocent  and  feasible, 

And,  surely,  with  a  stripling  of  sixteen 
Not  Scandal's  fangs  could  fix  on  much  that 's  seizable, 

Or  if  they  did  so,  satisfied  to  mean 
Nothing  but  what  was  good,  her  breast  was  peaceable — 

A  quiet  conscience  makes  one  so  serene  ! 
Christians  have  burnt  each  other,  quite  persuaded 
That  all  the  Apostles  would  have  done  as  they  did. 

i.  Deemed  that  her  thoughts  no  more  required  control. — [MS,] 

i.  ["  Conscienzia  m'assicura, 

La  buona  compagnia  che  1'uom  francheggia 
Sotto  1'osbergo  del  sentirsi  pura." 

Inferno,  canto  xxviii.  lines  115-117.] 


38  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

LXXXIV. 
And  if  in  the  mean  time  her  husband  died, 

But  Heaven  forbid  that  such  a  thought  should  cross 
Her  brain,  though  in  a  dream !  (and  then  she  sighed) 

Never  could  she  survive  that  common  loss ; 
But  just  suppose  that  moment  should  betide, 

I  only  say  suppose  it — inter  nos ; 
(This  should  be  entre  nous,  for  Julia  thought 
In  French,  but  then  the  rhyme  would  go  for  nought.) 

LXXXV. 

I  only  say,  suppose  this  supposition : 

Juan  being  then  grown  up  to  man's  estate 

Would  fully  suit  a  widow  of  condition, 

Even  seven  years  hence  it  would  not  be  too  late ; 

And  in  the  interim  (to  pursue  this  vision) 
The  mischief,  after  all,  could  not  be  great, 

For  he  would  learn  the  rudiments  of  Love, 

I  mean  the  seraph  way  of  those  above. 

LXXXVI. 
So  much  for  Julia  !     Now  we  '11  turn  to  Juan. 

Poor  little  fellow  !  he  had  no  idea 
Of  his  own  case,  and  never  hit  the  true  one ; 

In  feelings  quick  as  Ovid's  Miss  Medea,1 
He  puzzled  over  what  he  found  a  new  one, 

But  not  as  yet  imagined  it  could  be  a 
Thing  quite  in  course,  and  not  at  all  alarming, 
Which,  with  a  little  patience,  might  grow  charming, 

LXXXVII. 
Silent  and  pensive,  idle,  restless,  slow, 

His  home  deserted  for  the  lonely  wood, 
Tormented  with  a  wound  he  could  not  know, 

His,  like  all  deep  grief,  plunged  in  solitude : 
I  'm  fond  myself  of  solitude  or  so, 

But  then,  I  beg  it  may  be  understood, 
By  solitude  I  mean  a  Sultan's  (not 
A  Hermit's),  with  a  haram  for  a  grot. 

i.  [See  Ovid,  Metamorph.,  vii.  9,  j^.j 


CANTO  I.]  DON  JUAN.  39 

LXXXVIII. 

"  Oh  Love  !  in  such  a  wilderness  as  this, 
Where  Transport  and  Security  entwine, 

Here  is  the  Empire  of  thy  perfect  bliss, 
And  here  thou  art  a  God  indeed  divine."  l 

The  bard  I  quote  from  does  not  sing  amiss, 
With  the  exception  of  the  second  line, 

For  that  same  twining  "  Transport  and  Security  " 

Are  twisted  to  a  phrase  of  some  obscurity. 

LXXXIX. 

The  Poet  meant,  no  doubt,  and  thus  appeals 
To  the  good  sense  and  senses  of  mankind, 

The  very  thing  which  everybody  feels, 
As  all  have  found  on  trial,  or  may  find, 

That  no  one  likes  to  be  disturbed  at  meals 
Or  love. — I  won't  say  more  about  "  entwined  " 

Or  "  Transport,"  as  we  knew  all  that  before, 

But  beg  "  Security  "  will  bolt  the  door. 

xc. 
Young  Juan  wandered  by  the  glassy  brooks, 

Thinking  unutterable  things ;  he  threw 
Himself  at  length  within  the  leafy  nooks 

Where  the  wild  branch  of  the  cork  forest  grew ; 
There  poets  find  materials  for  their  books, 

And  every  now  and  then  we  read  them  through, 
So  that  their  plan  and  prosody  are  eligible, 
Unless,  like  Wordsworth,  they  prove  unintelligible. 

xci. 
He,  Juan  (and  not  Wordsworth),  so  pursued 

His  self-communion  with  his  own  high  soul, 
Until  his  mighty  heart,  in  its  great  mood, 

Had  mitigated  part,  though  not  the  whole 
Of  its  disease ;  he  did  the  best  he  could 

With  things  not  very  subject  to  control, 
And  turned,  without  perceiving  his  condition, 
Like  Coleridge,  into  a  metaphysician.2 

1.  Campbell's    Gertrude   of  Wyoming — (I  think) — the  opening  of 
Canto  Second  [Part  III.  stanza  i.  lines  1-4] — but  quote  from  memory. 

2.  [See  Coleridge's  Biographia  Literaria,  chap.  i.  (ed.  1847,  i.  14, 
15) ;  and  Dejection:  An  Ode,  lines  86-93.] 


40  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

xcn. 
He  thought  about  himself,  and  the  whole  earth, 

Of  man  the  wonderful,  and  of  the  stars, 
And  how  the  deuce  they  ever  could  have  birth ; 

And  then  he  thought  of  earthquakes,  and  of  wars, 
How  many  miles  the  moon  might  have  in  girth, 

Of  air-balloons,  and  of  the  many  bars 
To  perfect  knowledge  of  the  boundless  skies ; — 
And  then  he  thought  of  Donna  Julia's  eyes. 

XCIII. 

In  thoughts  like  these  true  Wisdom  may  discern 
Longings  sublime,  and  aspirations  high, 

Which  some  are  born  with,  but  the  most  part  learn 
To  plague  themselves  withal,  they  know  not  why : 

'T  was  strange  that  one  so  young  should  thus  concern 
His  brain  about  the  action  of  the  sky ;  '• 

If  you  think  't  was  Philosophy  that  this  did, 

I  can't  help  thinking  puberty  assisted. 

xciv. 
He  pored  upon  the  leaves,  and  on  the  flowers, 

And  heard  a  voice  in  all  the  winds ;  and  then 
He  thought  of  wood-nymphs  and  immortal  bowers, 

And  how  the  goddesses  came  down  to  men!: 
He  missed  the  pathway,  he  forgot  the  hours, 

And  when  he  looked  upon  his  watch  again, 
He  found  how  much  old  Time  had  been  a  winner — 
He  also  found  that  he  had  lost  his  dinner. 

xcv. 

Sometimes  he  turned  to  gaze  upon  his  book, 
Boscan,1  or  Garcilasso ;  2 — by  the  wind 

i.  /  say  this  by  the  way — so  don't  look  stern, 

But  if  you're  angry,  reader,  pass  it  by. — [MS.] 

1.  [Juan  Boscan,  of  Barcelona  (1500-1544),  in  concert  with  his  friend 
Garcilasso,  Italianized  Castilian  poetry.     He  was  the  author  of  the 
Leandro,  a  poem   in   blank  verse,  of  canzoni,  and  sonnets  after  the 
model  of  Petrarch,  and  of  The  Allegory.— History  of  Spanish  Litera- 
ture, by  George  Ticknor,  1888,  i.  513.] 

2.  [Garcias  Lasso  or  Garcilasso  de  la  Vega  (1503-1536),  of  a  noble 
family  at  Toledo,  was  a  warrior  as  well  as  a  poet,  "now  seizing  on  the 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  41 

Even  as  the  page  is  rustled  while  we  look, 

So  by  the  poesy  of  his  own  mind 
Over  the  mystic  leaf  his  soul  was  shook, 

As  if 't  were  one  whereon  magicians  bind 
Their  spells,  and  give  them  to  the  passing  gale, 
According  to  some  good  old  woman's  tale. 

xcvi. 
Thus  would  he  while  his  lonely  hours  away 

Dissatisfied,  not  knowing  what  he  wanted ; 
Nor  glowing  reverie,  nor  poet's  lay, 

Could  yield  his  spirit  that  for  which  it  panted, 
A  bosom  whereon  he  his  head  might  lay, 

And  hear  the  heart  beat  with  the  love  it  granted, 

With several  other  things,  which  I  forget, 

Or  which,  at  least,  I  need  not  mention  yet. 

XCVII. 

Those  lonely  walks,  and  lengthening  reveries, 
Could  not  escape  the  gentle  Julia's  eyes ; 

She  saw  that  Juan  was  not  at  his  ease ; 

But  that  which  chiefly  may,  and  must  surprise, 

Is,  that  the  Donna  Inez  did  not  tease 
Her  only  son  with  question  or  surmise ; 

Whether  it  was  she  did  not  see,  or  would  not, 

Or,  like  all  very  clever  people,  could  not. 

XCVIII. 

This  may  seem  strange,  but  yet 't  is  very  common ; 

For  instance — gentlemen,  whose  ladies  take 
Leave  to  o'erstep  the  written  rights  of  Woman, 

And  break   the Which   commandment   is  't   they 

break  ? 
(I  have  forgot  the  number,  and  think  no  man 

Should  rashly  quote,  for  fear  of  a  mistake ;) 
I  say,  when  these  same  gentlemen  are  jealous, 
They  make  some  blunder,  which  their  ladies  tell  us. 

sword  and  now  the  pen."  After  serving  with  distinction  in  Germany, 
Africa,  and  Provence,  he  was  killed  at  Muy,  near  Frejus,  in  1536,  by  a 
stone,  thrown  from  a  tower,  which  fell  on  his  head  as  he  was  leading 
on  his  battalion.  He  was  the  author  of  thirty-seven  sonnets,  five 
canzoni,  and  three  pastorals. —  Vide  ibidem,  pp.  522-535.] 


42  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

xcix. 
A  real  husband  always  is  suspicious, 

But  still  no  less  suspects  in  the  wrong  place,1 
Jealous  of  some  one  who  had  no  such  wishes, 

Or  pandering  blindly  to  his  own  disgrace, 
By  harbouring  some  dear  friend  extremely  vicious  ; 

The  last  indeed  's  infallibly  the  case  : 
And  when  the  spouse  and  friend  are  gone  off  wholly, 
He  wonders  at  their  vice,  and  not  his  folly. 

c. 

Thus  parents  also  are  at  times  short-sighted  : 

Though  watchful  as  the  lynx,  they  ne'er  discover, 

The  while  the  wicked  world  beholds  delighted, 
Young  Hopeful's  mistress,  or  Miss  Fanny's  lover, 

Till  some  confounded  escapade  has  blighted 
The  plan  of  twenty  years,  and  all  is  over ; 

And  then  the  mother  cries,  the  father  swears, 

And  wonders  why  the  devil  he  got  heirs. 

ci. 
But  Inez  was  so  anxious,  and  so  clear 

Of  sight,  that  I  must  think,  on  this  occasion, 
She  had  some  other  motive  much  more  near 

For  leaving  Juan  to  this  new  temptation, 
But  what  that  motive  was,  I  sha'n't  say  here ; 

Perhaps  to  finish  Juan's  education, 
Perhaps  to  open  Don  Alfonso's  eyes, 
In  case  he  thought  his  wife  too  great  a  prize. 

en. 

It  was  upon  a  day,  a  summer's  day ; — 

Summer  's  indeed  a  very  dangerous  season, 

And  so  is  spring  about  the  end  of  May ; 

The  sun,  no  doubt,  is  the  prevailing  reason ; 

But  whatsoe'er  the  cause  is,  one  may  say, 

And  stand  convicted  of  more  truth  than  treason, 

That  there  are  months  which  nature  grows  more  merry 
in,— 

March  has  its  hares,  and  May  must  have  its  heroine. 

i.  A  real  wittol  always  is  suspicious, 

But  always  also  hunts  in  the  wrong  place. — [MS.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  43 

cm. 
'T  was  on  a  summer's  day — the  sixth  of  June  : 

I  like  to  be  particular  in  dates, 
Not  only  of  the  age,  and  year,  but  moon  j 

They  are  a  sort  of  post-house,  where  the  Fates 
Change  horses,  making  History  change  its  tune,1- 

Then  spur  away  o'er  empires  and  o'er  states, 
Leaving  at  last  not  much  besides  chronology, 
Excepting  the  post-obits  of  theology."- 

civ. 

'T  was  on  the  sixth  of  June,  about  the  hour 
Of  half-past  six — perhaps  still  nearer  seven — 

When  Julia  sate  within  as  pretty  a  bower 
As  e'er  held  houri  in  that  heathenish  heaven 

Described  by  Mahomet,  and  Anacreon  Moore,1 
To  whom  the  lyre  and  laurels  have  been  given, 

With  all  the  trophies  of  triumphant  song — 

He  won  them  well,  and  may  he  wear  them  long  ! 

cv. 
She  sate,  but  not  alone;  I  know  not  well 

How  this  same  interview  had  taken  place, 
And  even  if  I  knew,  I  should  not  tell — 

People  should  hold  their  tongues  in  any  case ; 
No  matter  how  or  why  the  thing  befell, 

But  there  were  she  and  Juan,  face  to  face — 
When  two  such  faces  are  so,  't  would  be  wise, 
But  very  difficult,  to  shut  their  eyes. 

cvi. 

How  beautiful  she  looked  !  her  conscious  heart 
Glowed  in  her  cheek,  and  yet  she  felt  no  wrong  : 

i.  Change  horses  every  hour  from  night  till  noon. — [A/.S.] 
ii.  Except  the  promises  of  true  theology. — [A/5.] 

i.        ["Oh,  Susan  !  I've  said,  in  the  moments  of  mirth, 

What's  devotion  to  thee  or  to  me? 
I  devoutly  believe  there's  a  heaven  on  earth, 
And  believe  that  that  heaven's  in  thee." 

"The  Catalogue,"  Poetical  Works  of  the  late 

Thomas  Little,  1803,  p.  128.] 


44  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

Oh  Love  !  how  perfect  is  thy  mystic  art, 

Strengthening  the  weak,  and  trampling  on  the  strong  ! 
How  self-deceitful  is  the  sagest  part 

Of  mortals  whom  thy  lure  hath  led  along  ! — 
The  precipice  she  stood  on  was  immense, 
So  was  her  creed  in  her  own  innocence.1 

cvn. 
She  thought  of  her  own  strength,  and  Juan's  youth, 

And  of  the  folly  of  all  prudish  fears, 
Victorious  Virtue,  and  domestic  Truth, 

And  then  of  Don  Alfonso's  fifty  years : 
I  wish  these  last  had  not  occurred,  in  sooth, 

Because  that  number  rarely  much  endears, 
And  through  all  climes,  the  snowy  and  the  sunny, 
Sounds  ill  in  love,  whate'er  it  may  in  money. 

CVIII. 

When  people  say,  "  I  've  told  you  Jiffy  times," 
They  mean  to  scold,  and  very  often  do  ; 

When  poets  say,  "  I  've  written  fifty  rhymes," 

They  make  you  dread  that  they  '11  recite  them  too ; 

In  gangs  of  fifty ,  thieves  commit  their  crimes ; 
At  fifty  love  for  love  is  rare,  't  is  true, 

But  then,  no  doubt,  it  equally  as  true  is, 

A  good  deal  may  be  bought  to*  fifty  Louis. 

cix. 
Julia  had  honour,  virtue,  truth,  and  love 

For  Don  Alfonso ;  and  she  inly  swore, 
By  all  the  vows  below  to  Powers  above, 

She  never  would  disgrace  the  ring  she  wore, 
Nor  leave  a  wish  which  wisdom  might  reprove ; 

And  while  she  pondered  this,  besides  much  more, 
One  hand  on  Juan's  carelessly  was  thrown, 
Quite  by  mistake — she  thought  it  was  her  own ; 

ex. 

Unconsciously  she  leaned  upon  the  other, 
Which  played  within  the  tangles  of  her  hair ; 

i.  She  stood  on  Guilt's  steep  brink,  in  all  the  sense 
And  full  security  of  Innocence. — [MS,] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  45 

And  to  contend  with  thoughts  she  could  not  smother 
She  seemed  by  the  distraction  of  her  air. 

'T  was  surely  very  wrong  in  Juan's  mother 
To  leave  together  this  imprudent  pair,1- 

She  who  for  many  years  had  watched  her  son  so — 

I  'm  very  certain  mine  would  not  have  done  so. 

CXI. 

The  hand  which  still  held  Juan's,  by  degrees 
Gently,  but  palpably  confirmed  its  grasp, 

As  if  it  said,  "  Detain  me,  if  you  please ;  " 
Yet  there  's  no  doubt  she  only  meant  to  clasp 

His  fingers  with  a  pure  Platonic  squeeze ; 

She  would  have  shrunk  as  from  a  toad,  or  asp, 

Had  she  imagined  such  a  thing  could  rouse 

A  feeling  dangerous  to  a  prudent  spouse. 

CXII. 

I  cannot  know  what  Juan  thought  of  this, 

But  what  he  did,  is  much  what  you  would  do ; 

His  young  lip  thanked  it  with  a  grateful  kiss, 
And  then,  abashed  at  its  own  joy,  withdrew 

In  deep  despair,  lest  he  had  done  amiss, — 
Love  is  so  very  timid  when  't  is  new  : 

She  blushed,  and  frowned  not,  but  she  strove  to  speak, 

And  held  her  tongue,  her  voice  was  grown  so  weak. 

CXIII. 

The  sun  set,  and  up  rose  the  yellow  moon : 
The  Devil 's  in  the  moon  for  mischief;  they 

Who  called  her  CHASTE,  methinks,  began  too  soon 
Their  nomenclature ;  there  is  not  a  day, 

The  longest,  not  the  twenty-first  of  June, 
Sees  half  the  business  in  a  wicked  way, 

On  which  three  single  hours  of  moonshine  smile — 

And  then  she  looks  so  modest  all  the  while  ! 

cxiv. 
There  is  a  dangerous  silence  in  that  hour, 

A  stillness,  which  leaves  room  for  the  full  soul 

i.   To  leave  these  two  young  people  (hen  and  there. — [MS.  ] 


46  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

To  open  all  itself,  without  the  power 
Of  calling  wholly  back  its  self-control ; 

The  silver  light  which,  hallowing  tree  and  tower, 
Sheds  beauty  and  deep  softness  o'er  the  whole, 

Breathes  also  to  the  heart,  and  o'er  it  throws 

A  loving  languor,  which  is  not  repose. 

cxv. 
And  Julia  sate  with  Juan,  half  embraced 

And  half  retiring  from  the  glowing  arm, 
Which  trembled  like  the  bosom  where  't  was  placed; 

Yet  still  she  must  have  thought  there  was  no  harm, 
Or  else  't  were  easy  to  withdraw  her  waist ; 

But  then  the  situation  had  its  charm, 

And  then God  knows  what  next — I  can't  go  on ; 

I  'm  almost  sorry  that  I  e'er  begun. 

cxvi. 
Oh  Plato  !  Plato  !  you  have  paved  the  way, 

With  your  confounded  fantasies,  to  more 
Immoral  conduct  by  the  fancied  sway 

Your  system  feigns  o'er  the  controlless  core 
Of  human  hearts,  than  all  the  long  array 

Of  poets  and  romancers  : — You  're  a  bore, 
A  charlatan,  a  coxcomb — and  have  been, 
At  best,  no  better  than  a  go-between. 

cxvu. 
And  Julia's  voice  was  lost,  except  in  sighs, 

Until  too  late  for  useful  conversation ; 
The  tears  were  gushing  from  her  gentle  eyes, 

I  wish,  indeed,  they  had  not  had  occasion ; 
But  who,  alas  !  can  love,  and  then  be  wise  ? 

Not  that  Remorse  did  not  oppose  Temptation ; 
A  little  still  she  strove,  and  much  repented, 
And  whispering  "  I  will  ne'er  consent " — consented. 

CXVIII. 

'T  is  said  that  Xerxes  offered  a  reward l 
To  those  who  could  invent  him  a  new  pleasure : 

i.  [' '  Age  Xerxes  .  .  .  eo  usque  luxuria  gaudens,  ut  edicto  praemium 
ei  proponeret,  qui  novum  voluptatis  genus  reperisset." — Val.  Max,  De 
Dictis,  etc.,  lib.  ix.  cap.  i,  ext.  3.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  47 

Methinks  the  requisition  's  rather  hard, 

And  must  have  cost  his  Majesty  a  treasure : 

For  my  part,  I'm  a  moderate-minded  bard, 
Fond  of  a  little  love  (which  I  call  leisure) ; 

I  care  not  for  new  pleasures,  as  the  old 

Are  quite  enough  for  me,  so  they  but  hold. 

cxix. 

Oh  Pleasure  !  you  're  indeed  a  pleasant  thing,1 
Although  one  must  be  damned  for  you,  no  doubt : 

I  make  a  resolution  every  spring 
Of  reformation,  ere  the  year  run  out, 

But  somehow,  this  my  vestal  vow  takes  wing, 
Yet  still,  I  trust,  it  may  be  kept  throughout : 

I  'm  very  sorry,  very  much  ashamed, 

And  mean,  next  winter,  to  be  quite  reclaimed. 

cxx. 
Here  my  chaste  Muse  a  liberty  must  take — 

Start  not !  still  chaster  reader — she  '11  be  nice  hence- 
Forward,  and  there  is  no  great  cause  to  quake ; 

This  liberty  is  a  poetic  licence, 
Which  some  irregularity  may  make 

In  the  design,  and  as  I  have  a  high  sense 
Of  Aristotle  and  the  Rules,  't  is  fit 
To  beg  his  pardon  when  I  err  a  bit. 

cxxi. 
This  licence  is  to  hope  the  reader  will 

Suppose  from  June  the  sixth  (the  fatal  day, 
Without  whose  epoch  my  poetic  skill 

For  want  of  facts  would  all  be  thrown  away), 
But  keeping  Julia  and  Don  Juan  still 

In  sight,  that  several  months  have  passed ;  we  '11  say 
'T  was  in  November,  but  I'm  not  so  sure 
About  the  day — the  era  's  more  obscure. 

cxxn. 

We  '11  talk  of  that  anon. — 'T  is  sweet  to  hear 
At  midnight  on  the  blue  and  moonlit  deep 

i.  ["You  certainly  will  be  damned  for  all  this  scene."— [H.]  ] 


48  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

The  song  and  oar  of  Adria's  gondolier,1 

By  distance  mellowed,  o'er  the  waters  sweep ; 

'T  is  sweet  to  see  the  evening  star  appear ; 
'T  is  sweet  to  listen  as  the  night-winds  creep 

From  leaf  to  leaf;  't  is  sweet  to  view  on  high 

The  rainbow,  based  on  ocean,  span  the  sky. 

cxxm. 
'T  is  sweet  to  hear  the  watch-dog's  honest  bark 

Bay  deep-mouthed  welcome  as  we  draw  near  home ; 
'T  is  sweet  to  know  there  is  an  eye  will  mark 

Our  coming,  and  look  brighter  when  we  come ;  '• 
'T  is  sweet  to  be  awakened  by  the  lark, 

Or  lulled  by  falling  waters ;  sweet  the  hum 
Of  bees,  the  voice  of  girls,  the  song  of  birds, 
The  lisp  of  children,  and  their  earliest  words. 

cxxiv. 

Sweet  is  the  vintage,  when  the  showering  grapes 

In  Bacchanal  profusion  reel  to  earth, 
Purple  and  gushing :  sweet  are  our  escapes 

From  civic  revelry  to  rural  mirth ; 
Sweet  to  the  miser  are  his  glittering  heaps, 

Sweet  to  the  father  is  his  first-born's  birth, 
Sweet  is  revenge — especially  to  women — 
Pillage  to  soldiers,  prize-money  to  seamen. 

cxxv. 
Sweet  is  a  legacy,  and  passing  sweet ij- 

The  unexpected  death  of  some  old  lady, 
Or  gentleman  of  seventy  years  complete, 

Who   've   made  "  us   youth "  2  wait   too — too  long 

already, 

For  an  estate,  or  cash,  or  country  seat, 
Still  breaking,  but  with  stamina  so  steady, 

i.  Our  coming,  nor  look  brightly  till  we  come, — [MS.] 
ii.  Sweet  is  a  lawsuit  to  the  attorney — sweet,  etc. — [MS.] 

1.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  IV.  stanza  iii.  line  2,  Poetical 
Works,  ii.  329,  note  3.] 

2.  [So,  too,  Falstaff,  i  Henry  IV.,  act  ii.  sc.  2,  lines  79,  80.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  49 

That  all  the  Israelites  are  fit  to  mob  its 

Next  owner  for  their  double-damned  post-obits.'- 

CXXVI. 

'T  is  sweet  to  win,  no  matter  how,  one's  laurels, 
By  blood  or  ink ;  't  is  sweet  to  put  an  end 

To  strife ;  't  is  sometimes  sweet  to  have  our  quarrels, 
Particularly  with  a  tiresome  friend : 

Sweet  is  old  wine  in  bottles,  ale  in  barrels ; 
Dear  is  the  helpless  creature  we  defend 

Against  the  world ;  and  dear  the  schoolboy  spot l 

We  ne'er  forget,  though  there  we  are  forgot. 

cxxvu. 

But  sweeter  still  than  this,  than  these,  than  all, 
Is  first  and  passionate  Love — it  stands  alone, 

Like  Adam's  recollection  of  his  fall ; 
The  Tree  of  Knowledge  has  been   plucked — all  's 
known — 

And  Life  yields  nothing  further  to  recall 
Worthy  of  this  ambrosial  sin,  so  shown, 

No  doubt  in  fable,  as  the  unforgiven 

Fire  which  Prometheus  filched  for  us  from  Heaven. 

CXXVIII. 

Man  's  a  strange  animal,  and  makes  strange  use 

Of  his  own  nature,  and  the  various  arts, 
And  likes  particularly  to  produce 

Some  new  experiment  to  show  his  parts ; 
This  is  the  age  of  oddities  let  loose, 

Where  different  talents  find  their  different  marts ; 
You  'd  best  begin  with  truth,  and  when  you  Ve  lost  your 
Labour,  there  's  a  sure  market  for  imposture. 

i.       Who  've  made  us  wait — God  knows  how  long  already, 
For  an  entailed  estate,  or  country-seat, 

Wishing  them  not  exactly  damned,  but  dead — he 
Knows  nought  of  grief,  who  has  not  so  been  worried — 
'T  is  strange  old  people  don't  like  to  be  buried. — [MS.} 

I.  [Byron  has  not  been  forgotten  at  Harrow,  though  it  is  a  bend  of 
the  Cam  (Byron's  Pool),  not  his  favourite  Duck  Pool  (now  "Ducker") 
which  bears  his  name.] 

VOL.  VI.  E 


5°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

CXXIX. 

What  opposite  discoveries  we  have  seen  ! 

(Signs  of  true  genius,  and  of  empty  pockets.) 
One  makes  new  noses,1  one  a  guillotine, 

One  breaks  your  bones,  one  sets  them  in  their  sockets ; 
But  Vaccination  certainly  has  been 

A  kind  antithesis  to  Congreve's  rockets,2 
With  which  the  Doctor  paid  off  an  old  pox, 
By  borrowing  a  new  one  from  an  ox.3 

cxxx. 

Bread  has  been  made  (indifferent)  from  potatoes  : 
And  Galvanism  has  set  some  corpses  grinning,4 

But  has  not  answered  like  the  apparatus 
Of  the  Humane  Society's  beginning, 

By  which  men  are  unsuffocated  gratis  : 
What  wondrous  new  machines  have  late  been  spinning  ! 

I  said  the  small-pox  has  gone  out  of  late ; 

Perhaps  it  may  be  followed  by  the  great.5 

CXXXI. 

'T  is  said  the  great  came  from  America ; 

Perhaps  it  may  set  out  on  its  return, — 
The  population  there  so  spreads,  they  say 

'T  is  grown  high  time  to  thin  it  in  its  turn, 
With  war,  or  plague,  or  famine — any  way, 

So  that  civilisation  they  may  learn ; 

1.  [The  reference  is  to  the  metallic  tractors  of  Benjamin  Charles 
Perkins,  which  were  advertised  as  a  "cure  for  all  disorders,   Red 
Noses,"  etc.     Compare  English  Bards,  etc.,  lines  131,  132 — 

' '  What  varied  wonders  tempt  us  as  they  pass  ! 
The  Cow-pox,  Tractors,  Galvanism,  and  Gas." 

See  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  307,  note  3.] 

2.  [Edward  Jenner  (1749-1823)  made  his  first  experiments  in  vaccina- 
tion, May  14,  1796.     Napoleon  caused  his  soldiers  to  be  vaccinated, 
and  imagined  that  the  English  would  be  gratified  by  his  recognition  of 
Jenner's  discovery. 

Sir  William  Congreve  (1772-1828)  invented  "Congreve  rockets"  or 
shells  in  1804.  They  were  used  with  great  effect  at  the  battle  of 
Leipzig,  in  1813.] 

3.  f "  Mon  cher  ne  touchez  pas  a  la  petite  Ve"role." — [H."| — [Revise.']'} 

4.  [Experiments  in  galvanism  were  made  on  the  body  of  Forster 
the  murderer,  by  Galvani's  nephew,   Professor  Aldini,  January  and 
February,  1803.] 

5.  ["  Put  out  these  lines,  and  keep  the  others." — [H.]— \Revise.~\~\ 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  51 

And  which  in  ravage  the  more  loathsome  evil  is — 
Their  real  lues,  or  our  pseudo-syphilis  ? 

CXXXII. 

This  is  the  patent  age  of  new  inventions 
For  killing  bodies,  and  for  saving  souls, 

All  propagated  with  the  best  intentions ; 

Sir  Humphry  Davy's  lantern,1  by  which  coals 

Are  safely  mined  for  in  the  mode  he  mentions, 
Tombuctoo  travels,2  voyages  to  the  Poles  3 

Are  ways  to  benefit  mankind,  as  true, 

Perhaps,  as  shooting  them  at  Waterloo. 

CXXXIII. 

Man  's  a  phenomenon,  one  knows  not  what, 
And  wonderful  beyond  all  wondrous  measure ; 

'T  is  pity  though,  in  this  sublime  world,  that 

Pleasure  's  a  sin,  and  sometimes  Sin  's  a  pleasure ;  '• 

Few  mortals  know  what  end  they  would  be  at, 
But  whether  Glory,  Power,  or  Love,  or  Treasure, 

The  path  is  through  perplexing  ways,  and  when 

The  goal  is  gained,  we  die,  you  know — and  then 

cxxxiv. 
What  then  ? — I  do  not  know,  no  more  do  you — 

And  so  good  night. — Return  we  to  our  story  : 
'T  was  in  November,  when  fine  days  are  few, 

And  the  far  mountains  wax  a  little  hoary, 

i.  Not  only  pleasure  's  sin,  but  sin  's  a  pleasure. — [A/S.] 

i.  [Sir  Humphry  Davy,    P.R.S.  (1778-1829),  invented  the  safety- 
lamp  in  1815.] 

•2.  [In  a  critique  of  An  Account  of  the  Empire  of  Marocco.  .  .  .  To 
•which  is  added  an  .  .  .  account  of  Tombuctoo,  the  great  Emporium  of 
Central  Africa,  by  James  Grey  Jackson,  London,  1809,  the  reviewer 
comments  on  the  author's  pedantry  in  correcting  "  the  common  ortho- 
graphy of  African  names."  "  We  do  not,"  he  writes,  "greatly  object 
to  ...  Fas  for  Fez,  or  even  Timbuctoo  for  Tombuctoo,  but  Marocco 
for  Morocco  is  a  little  too  much." — Edinburgh  Review,  July,  1809 
vol.  xiv.  p.  307.] 

3.  [Sir  John  Ross  (1777-1856)  published  A  Voyage  of  Discovery  . 
for  the  purpose  of  Exploring  Baffin's  Bay,  etc.,  in  1819;   Sir  W.  E. 
Parry  (1790-1855)  published  his  Journal  of  a  Voyage  of  Discovery  to 
the  Arctic   Regions  between   ^t/i  April   and   i8t/i  November,    1818, 
in  1820.] 


52  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

And  clap  a  white  cape  on  their  mantles  blue ;  '• 

And  the  sea  dashes  round  the  promontory, 
And  the  loud  breaker  boils  against  the  rock, 
And  sober  suns  must  set  at  five  o'clock. 

cxxxv. 
'T  was,  as  the  watchmen  say,  a  cloudy  night ; IL 

No  moon,  no  stars,  the  wind  was  low  or  loud 
By  gusts,  and  many  a  sparkling  hearth  was  bright 

With  the  piled  wood,  round  which  the  family  crowd ; 
There  's  something  cheerful  in  that  sort  of  light, 

Even  as  a  summer  sky's  without  a  cloud : 
I  'm  fond  of  fire,  and  crickets,  and  all  that,"L  l 
A  lobster  salad,2  and  champagne,  and  chat. 

cxxxvi. 
'T  was  midnight — Donna  Julia  was  in  bed, 

Sleeping,  most  probably, — when  at  her  door 
Arose  a  clatter  might  awake  the  dead, 

If  they  had  never  been  awoke  before, 
And  that  they  have  been  so  we  all  have  read, 

And  are  to  be  so,  at  the  least,  once  more ; — 
The  door  was  fastened,  but  with  voice  and  fist 
First  knocks  were  heard,  then  "  Madam — Madam — hist ! 

cxxxvi  i. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Madam — Madam — here  's  my  master,3 
With  more  than  half  the  city  at  his  back — 

i.  And  lose  in  shining  snow  their  summits  blue. — [MS.] 
ii.  '  T  was  midnight — dark  and  sombre  was  the  night,  etc. — [AfS.] 
iii.  And  supper,  punch,  ghost-stories,  and  such  chat. — [MS.] 

1.  ["  '  All  that.'Egad,'  as  Bayes  says  "  [in  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's 
play  The  Rehearsal], — Letter  to  Murray,  September  28,  1820,  Letters, 
1901,  v.  80.] 

2.  ["  Lobster-sallad,   not  a  lobster-salad.      Have    you   been   at  a 
London  ball,  and  not  known  a  Lobster- salladf" — [H.J — [Revise.]] 

3.  ["To-night,  as  Countess  Guiccioli  observed  me  poring  over  Don 
Juan,  she  stumbled  by  mere  chance  on  the  i37th  stanza  of  the  First 
Canto,  and  asked  me  what  it  meant.     I  told  her,  '  Nothing, — but  your 
husband  is  coming.'     As  I  said  this  in  Italian  with  some  emphasis,  she 
started  up  in  a  fright,  and  said,  '  Oh,  my  God,  is  he  coming?'  thinking  it 
was  her  own.  .  .  .  You  may  suppose  we  laughed  when  she  found  out  the 
mistake.     You  will  be  amused,  as  I  was  ; — it  happened  not  three  hours 
ago." — Letter  to  Murray,  November  8,  1819,  Letters,  1900,  iv.  374. 

It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  loves  of  Juan  and  Julia,  the 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  53 

Was  ever  heard  of  such  a  curst  disaster ! 

'T  is  not  my  fault — I  kept  good  watch — Alack  ! 
Do  pray  undo  the  bolt  a  little  faster — 

They  're  on  the  stair  just  now,  and  in  a  crack 
Will  all  be  here ;  perhaps  he  yet  may  fly — 
Surely  the  window  's  not  so  very  high  !  " 

CXXXVIII. 

By  this  time  Don  Alfonso  was  arrived, 

With  torches,  friends,  and  servants  in  great  number ; 
The  major  part  of  them  had  long  been  wived, 

And  therefore  paused  not  to  disturb  the  slumber 
Of  any  wicked  woman,  who  contrived 

By  stealth  her  husband's  temples  to  encumber  : 
Examples  of  this  kind  are  so  contagious, 
Were  one  not  punished,  all  would  be  outrageous. 

cxxxix. 

I  can't  tell  how,  or  why,  or  what  suspicion 
Could  enter  into  Don  Alfonso's  head ; 

But  for  a  cavalier  of  his  condition 
It  surely  was  exceedingly  ill-bred, 

Without  a  word  of  previous  admonition, 
To  hold  a  levee  round  his  lady's  bed, 

And  summon  lackeys,  armed  with  fire  and  sword, 

To  prove  himself  the  thing  he  most  abhorred. 

CXL. 

Poor  Donna  Julia !  starting  as  from  sleep, 
(Mind — that  I  do  not  say — she  had  not  slept), 

Began  at  once  to  scream,  and  yawn,  and  weep ; 
Her  maid,  Antonia,  who  was  an  adept, 

Contrived  to  fling  the  bed-clothes  in  a  heap, 
As  if  she  had  just  now  from  out  them  crept :  '• 

I  can't  tell  why  she  should  take  all  this  trouble 

To  prove  her  mistress  had  been  sleeping  double. 

i.  And  thus  as  'twere  herself  from  out  them  crept. — [AfS.  M.~\ 

irruption  of  Don  Alfonso,  etc.,  were  rather  of  the  nature  of  prophecy 
than  of  reminiscence.  The  First  Canto  had  been  completed  before  the 
Countess  Guiccioli  appeared  on  the  scene.] 


54  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  r. 

CXLI. 
But  Julia  mistress,  and  Antonia  maid, 

Appeared  like  two  poor  harmless  women,  who 
Of  goblins,  but  still  more  of  men  afraid, 

Had  thought  one  man  might  be  deterred  by  two, 
And  therefore  side  by  side  were  gently  laid, 

Until  the  hours  of  absence  should  run  through, 
And  truant  husband  should  return,  and  say, 
"  My  dear, — I  was  the  first  who  came  away." 

CXLII. 
Now  Julia  found  at  length  a  voice,  and  cried, 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  Don  Alfonso,  what  d'  ye  mean  ? 
Has  madness  seized  you  ?  would  that  I  had  died 

Ere  such  a  monster's  victim  I  had  been  !  '• 
What  may  this  midnight  violence  betide, 

A  sudden  fit  of  drunkenness  or  spleen  ? 
Dare  you  suspect  me,  whom  the  thought  would  kill  ? 
Search,  then,  the  room  !  " — Alfonso  said,  "  I  will." 

CXLIII. 

He  searched,  they  searched,  and  rummaged  everywhere, 
Closet  and  clothes'  press,  chest  and  window-seat, 

And  found  much  linen,  lace,  and  several  pair 
Of  stockings,  slippers,  brushes,  combs,  complete, 

With  other  articles  of  ladies  fair, 

To  keep  them  beautiful,  or  leave  them  neat : 

Arras  they  pricked  and  curtains  with  their  swords, 

And  wounded  several  shutters,  and  some  boards. 

CXLIV. 

Under  the  bed  they  searched,  and  there  they  found — 
No  matter  what — it  was  not  that  they  sought ; 

They  opened  windows,  gazing  if  the  ground 

Had  signs  or  footmarks,  but  the  earth  said  nought ; 

And  then  they  stared  each  others'  faces  round : 
'T  is  odd,  not  one  of  all  these  seekers  thought, 

And  seems  to  me  almost  a  sort  of  blunder, 

Of  looking  in  the  bed  as  well  as  under. 

i.  Ere  I  the  wife  of  such  a  man  had  been  /—[MS.  ] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  55 

CXLV. 

During  this  inquisition  Julia's  tongue  '• 

Was  not  asleep — "  Yes,  search  and  search,"  she  cried, 
"  Insult  on  insult  heap,  and  wrong  on  wrong ! 

It  was  for  this  that  I  became  a  bride  ! 
For  this  in  silence  I  have  suffered  long 

A  husband  like  Alfonso  at  my  side ; 
But  now  I  '11  bear  no  more,  nor  here  remain, 
If  there  be  law  or  lawyers  in  all  Spain. 

CXLVI. 
"  Yes,  Don  Alfonso  !  husband  now  no  more, 

If  ever  you  indeed  deserved  the  name, 
Is  't  worthy  of  your  years  ? — you  have  threescore — 

Fifty,  or  sixty,  it  is  all  the  same — 
Is  .'t  wise  or  fitting,  causeless  to  explore 

For  facts  against  a  virtuous  woman's  fame  ? 
Ungrateful,  perjured,  barbarous  Don  Alfonso, 
How  dare  you  think  your  lady  would  go  on  so  ? 

CXLVII. 
"  Is  it  for  this  I  have  disdained  to  hold 

The  common  privileges  of  my  sex  ? 
That  I  have  chosen  a  confessor  so  old 

And  deaf,  that  any  other  it  would  vex, 
And  never  once  he  has  had  cause  to  scold, 

But  found  my  very  innocence  perplex 
So  much,  he  always  doubted  I  was  married — 
How  sorry  you  will  be  when  I  've  miscarried  ! 

CXLVIII. 
"  Was  it  for  this  that  no  Cortejo 1  e'er 

I  yet  have  chosen  from  out  the  youth  of  Seville  ? 
Is  it  for  this  I  scarce  went  anywhere, 

Except  to  bull-fights,  mass,  play,  rout,  and  revel  ? 
Is  it  for  this,  whate'er  my  suitors  were, 

I  favoured  none — nay,  was  almost  uncivil  ? 

i.  But  while  this  search  was  making,  Julia's  tongue. — [A/S.] 

i.  The  Spanish  ' '  Cortejo  "  is  much  the  same  as  the  Italian  ' '  Cavalier 
Servente." 


56  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

Is  it  for  tliis  that  General  Count  O'Reilly, 
Who  took  Algiers,1  declares  I  used  him  vilely? 

CXLIX. 

"  Did  not  the  Italian  Musico  Cazzani 

Sing  at  my  heart  six  months  at  least  in  vain  ? 

Did  not  his  countryman,  Count  Corniani,2 
Call  me  the  only  virtuous  wife  in  Spain  ? 

Were  there  not  also  Russians,  English,  many  ? 
The  Count  Strongstroganoff  I  put  in  pain, 

And  Lord  Mount  Coffeehouse,  the  Irish  peer, 

Who  killed  himself  for  love  (with  wine)  last  year. 

CL. 

"  Have  I  not  had  two  bishops  at  my  feet  ? 

The  Duke  of  Ichar,  and  Don  Fernan  Nunez ; 
And  is  it  thus  a  faithful  wife  you  treat  ? 

I  wonder  in  what  quarter  now  the  moon  is  : 
I  praise  your  vast  forbearance  not  to  beat 

Me  also,  since  the  time  so  opportune  is — 
Oh,  valiant  man  !  with  sword  drawn  and  cocked  trigger, 
Now,  tell  me,  don't  you  cut  a  pretty  figure  ? 

CLI. 

"  Was  it  for  this  you  took  your  sudden  journey, 
Under  pretence  of  business  indispensable 

With  that  sublime  of  rascals  your  attorney, 

Whom  I  see  standing  there,  and  looking  sensible 

Of  having  played  the  fool  ?  though  both  I  spurn,  he 
Deserves  the  worst,  his  conduct 's  less  defensible, 

Because,  no  doubt,  ;t  was  for  his  dirty  fee, 

And  not  from  any  love  to  you  nor  me. 

1.  Donna  Julia  here  made  a  mistake.     Count  O'Reilly  did  not  take 
Algiers — but  Algiers  very  nearly  took  him  :  he  and  his  army  and  fleet 
retreated  with  great  loss,  and  not  much  credit,  from  before  that  city,  in 
the  year  1775. 

[Alexander  O'Reilly,  born  1722,  a  Spanish  general  of  Irish  extraction, 
failed  in  an  expedition  against  Algiers  in  1775,  in  which  the  Spaniards 
lost  four  thousand  men.  In  1794  he  was  appointed  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  forces  equipped  against  the  army  of  the  French  National 
Convention.  He  died  March  23,  1794.] 

2.  [The  Italian  names  have  an  obvious  signification.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  57 

CLII. 

"  If  he  comes  here  to  take  a  deposition, 
By  all  means  let  the  gentleman  proceed ; 

You  've  made  the  apartment  in  a  fit  condition : — 
There  's  pen  and  ink  for  you,  sir,  when  you  need — 

Let  everything  be  noted  with  precision, 

I  would  not  you  for  nothing  should  be  fee'd — 

But,  as  my  maid  's  undressed,  pray  turn  your  spies  out." 

"  Oh  ! "  sobbed  Antonia,  "  I  could  tear  their  eyes  out." 

CLIII. 

"  There  is  the  closet,  there  the  toilet,  there 
The  antechamber — search  them  under,  over ; 

There  is  the  sofa,  there  the  great  arm-chair, 

The  chimney — which  would  really  hold  a  lover.' 

I  wish  to  sleep,  and  beg  you  will  take  care 
And  make  no  further  noise,  till  you  discover 

The  secret  cavern  of  this  lurking  treasure — 

And  when  't  is  found,  let  me,  too,  have  that  pleasure. 

CLIV. 
"  And  now,  Hidalgo  !  now  that  you  have  thrown 

Doubt  upon  me,  confusion  over  all, 
Pray  have  the  courtesy  to  make  it  known 

Who  is  the  man  you  search  for  ?  how  d'  ye  call 
Him  ?  what 's  his  lineage  ?  let  him  but  be  shown — 

I  hope  he  's  young  and  handsome — is  he  tall  ? 
Tell  me — and  be  assured,  that  since  you  stain 
My  honour  thus,  it  shall  not  be  in  vain. 

CLV. 
"  At  least,  perhaps,  he  has  not  sixty  years, 

At  that  age  he  would  be  too  old  for  slaughter, 
Or  for  so  young  a  husband's  jealous  fears — 

(Antonia  !  let  me  have  a  glass  of  water.) 
I  am  ashamed  of  having  shed  these  tears, 

They  are  unworthy  of  my  father's  daughter ; 
My  mother  dreamed  not  in  my  natal  hour, 
That  I  should  fall  into  a  monster's  power. 

i.   The  chimney— fit  retreat  for  any  lover  ! — [MS.  ] 


5  8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

CLVI. 
"  Perhaps  't  is  of  Antonia  you  are  jealous, 

You  saw  that  she  was  sleeping  by  my  side, 
When  you  broke  in  upon  us  with  your  fellows  : 

Look  where  you  please — we  've  nothing,  sir,  to  hide ; 
Only  another  time,  I  trust,  you  '11  tell  us, 

Or  for  the  sake  of  decency  abide 
A  moment  at  the  door,  that  we  may  be 
Dressed  to  receive  so  much  good  company. 

CLVII. 
"  And  now,  sir,  I  have  done,  and  say  no  more ; 

The  little  I  have  said  may  serve  to  show 
The  guileless  heart  in  silence  may  grieve  o'er  '• 

The  wrongs  to  whose  exposure  it  is  slow  : — 
I  leave  you  to  your  conscience  as  before, 

'T  will  one  day  ask  you  why  you  used  me  so  ? 
God  grant  you  feel  not  then  the  bitterest  grief ! — 
Antonia  !  where  's  my  pocket-handkerchief?" 

CLVIII. 

She  ceased,  and  turned  upon  her  pillow ;  pale 
She  lay,  her  dark  eyes  flashing  through  their  tears, 

Like  skies  that  rain  and  lighten ;  as  a  veil, 
Waved  and  o'ershading  her  wan  cheek,  appears 

Her  streaming  hair ;  the  black  curls  strive,  but  fail 
To  hide  the  glossy  shoulder,  which  uprears 

Its  snow  through  all ; — her  soft  lips  lie  apart, 

And  louder  than  her  breathing  beats  her  heart. 

CLIX. 

The  Senhor  Don  Alfonso  stood  confused  ; 

Antonia  bustled  round  the  ransacked  room, 
And,  turning  up  her  nose,  with  looks  abused 

Her  master,  and  his  myrmidons,  of  whom 
Not  one,  except  the  attorney,  was  amused ; 

He,  like  Achates,  faithful  to  the  tomb, 
So  there  were  quarrels,  cared  not  for  the  cause, 
Knowing  they  must  be  settled  by  the  laws. 

i.  may  deplore.— [Alternative  reading.    MS.  M.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  59 

CLX. 

With  prying  snub-nose,  and  small  eyes,  he  stood, 
Following  Antonia's  motions  here  and  there, 

With  much  suspicion  in  his  attitude  ; 
For  reputations  he  had  little  care ; 

So  that  a  suit  or  action  were  made  good, 
Small  pity  had  he  for  the  young  and  fair, 

And  ne'er  believed  in  negatives,  till  these 

Were  proved  by  competent  false  witnesses. 

CLXI. 
But  Don  Alfonso  stood  with  downcast  looks, 

And,  truth  to  say,  he  made  a  foolish  figure ; 
When,  after  searching  in  five  hundred  nooks, 

And  treating  a  young  wife  with  so  much  rigour, 
He  gained  no  point,  except  some  self-rebukes, 

Added  to  those  his  lady  with  such  vigour 
Had  poured  upon  him  for  the  last  half-hour, 
Quick,  thick,  and  heavy — as  a  thunder-shower. 

CLXII. 
At  first  he  tried  to  hammer  an  excuse, 

To  which  the  sole  reply  was  tears,  and  sobs, 
And  indications  of  hysterics,  whose 

Prologue  is  always  certain  throes,  and  throbs, 
Gasps,  and  whatever  else  the  owners  choose  : 

Alfonso  saw  his  wife,  and  thought  of  Job's ; l 
He  saw  too,  in  perspective,  her  relations, 
And  then  he  tried  to  muster  all  his  patience. 

CLXIII. 

He  stood  in  act  to  speak,  or  rather  stammer, 
But  sage  Antonia  cut  him  short  before 

The  anvil  of  his  speech  received  the  hammer, 

With  "  Pray,  sir,  leave  the  room,  and  say  no  more, 

Or  madam  dies." — Alfonso  muttered,  "  D — n  her,"  2 
But  nothing  else,  the  time  of  words  was  o'er ; 

He  cast  a  rueful  look  or  two,  and  did, 

He  knew  not  wherefore,  that  which  he  was  bid. 

1.  ["Thou  speakest  as  one  of  the  foolish  women  speaketh"  (Job 
ii.  iol] 

2.  ["  Don't  be  read  aloud." — [H.] — [Revise.]] 


60  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

CLXIV. 
With  him  retired  his  "posse  comitatus" 

The  attorney  last,  who  lingered  near  the  door 
Reluctantly,  still  tarrying  there  as  late  as 

Antonia  let  him — not  a  little  sore 
At  this  most  strange  and  unexplained  "hiatus" 

In  Don  Alfonso's  facts,  which  just  now  wore 
An  awkward  look ;  as  he  revolved  the  case, 
The  door  was  fastened  in  his  legal  face. 

CLXV. 
No  sooner  was  it  bolted,  than — Oh  Shame  ! 

Oh  Sin  !  Oh  Sorrow  !  and  Oh  Womankind  ! 
How  can  you  do  such  things  and  keep  your  fame, 

Unless  this  world,  and  t'  other  too,  be  blind  ? 
Nothing  so  dear  as  an  unfilched  good  name  ! 

But  to  proceed — for  there  is  more  behind  : 
With  much  heartfelt  reluctance  be  it  said, 
Young  Juan  slipped,  half-smothered,  from  the  bed. 

CLXVI. 

He  had  been  hid — I  don't  pretend  to  say 
How,  nor  can  I  indeed  describe  the  where — 

Young,  slender,  and  packed  easily,  he  lay, 
No  doubt,  in  little  compass,  round  or  square ; 

But  pity  him  I  neither  must  nor  may 
His  suffocation  by  that  pretty  pair ; 

'T  were  better,  sure,  to  die  so,  than  be  shut 

With  maudlin  Clarence  in  his  Malmsey  butt.'- 

CLXVII. 
And,  secondly,  I  pity  not,  because 

He  had  no  business  to  commit  a  sin, 
Forbid  by  heavenly,  fined  by  human  laws ; — 

At  least 't  was  rather  early  to  begin, 
But  at  sixteen  the  conscience  rarely  gnaws 

So  much  as  when  we  call  our  old  debts  in 
At  sixty  years,  and  draw  the  accompts  of  evil, 
And  find  a  deuced  balance  with  the  Devil."- 

i.  than  be  put 

To  drown  with  Clarence  in  his  Malmsey  butt. — [MS.] 
ii.  And  reckon  up  our  balance  with  the  devil. — [MS.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  6 1 

CLXVIII. 

Of  his  position  I  can  give  no  notion  : 
'T  is  written  in  the  Hebrew  Chronicle, 

How  the  physicians,  leaving  pill  and  potion, 
Prescribed,  by  way  of  blister,  a  young  belle, 

When  old  King  David's  blood  grew  dull  in  motion, 
And  that  the  medicine  answered  very  well ; 

Perhaps  't  was  in  a  different  way  applied, 

For  David  lived,  but  Juan  nearly  died. 

CLXIX. 

What 's  to  be  done  ?    Alfonso  will  be  back 
The  moment  he  has  sent  his  fools  away. 

Antonia's  skill  was  put  upon  the  rack, 

But  no  device  could  be  brought  into  play — 

And  how  to  parry  the  renewed  attack  ? 
Besides,  it  wanted  but  few  hours  of  day  : 

Antonia  puzzled  ;  Julia  did  not  speak, 

But  pressed  her  bloodless  lip  to  Juan's  cheek. 

CLXX. 

He  turned  his  lip  to  hers,  and  with  his  hand 
Called  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,  't  is  no  time  now  for  fooling  there," 

She  whispered,  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  good — 

Is  this  a  time  for  giggling  ?  this  a  plight  ? 

Why,  don't  you  know  that  it  may  end  in  blood  ? 

You  '11  lose  your  life,  and  I  shall  lose  my  place, 

My  mistress  all,  for  that  half-girlish  face. 


62  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

CLXXII. 
"  Had  it  but  been  for  a  stout  cavalier  1 

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, 

Closed  the  oration  of  the  trusty  maid : 
She  loitered,  and  he  told  her  to  be  gone, 

An  order  somewhat  sullenly  obeyed ; 
However,  present  remedy  was  none, 

And  no  great  good  seemed  answered  if  she  staid  : 
Regarding  both  with  slow  and  sidelong  view, 
She  snuffed  the  candle,  curtsied,  and  withdrew. 

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  learned  call  "  rigmarole? 

CLXXV. 

Julia  said  nought ;  though  all  the  while  there  rose 
A  ready  answer,  which  at  once  enables 

I.  ["  Carissimo,  do  review  the  whole  scene,  and  think  what  you  would 
say  of  it,  if  written  by  another." — [H.]  "I  would  say,  read  'The 
Miracle'  ['A  Tale  from  Boccace ']  in  Hobhouse's  poems,  and  'January 
and  May,'  and  'Paulo  Purganti,'  and  'Hans  Carvel,'  and  'Joconde.' 
These  are  laughable  :  it  is  the  serious — Little's  |poems  and  Lalla  Rookh 
— that  affect  seriously.  Now  Lust  is  a  serious  passion,  and  cannot  be 
excited  by  the  ludicrous." — [B.] — Marginal  Notes  in  Revise.] 

For  the  "Miracle,"  see  Imitations  and  Translations,  1809,  pp.  m- 
128.  "January  and  May"  is  Pope's  version  of  Chaucer's  Merchant's 
Tale.  "  Paulo  Purganti  "  and  "  Hans  Carvel "  are  by  Matthew  Prior ; 
and  for  "Joconde"  (Nouvelle  Tirle  de  L'Ariosto,  canto  xxviii.)  see 
Contes  et  Nouvelles  en  Vers,  de  Mr.  de  la  Fontaine,  1691,  i.  1-19.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  63 

A  matron,  who  her  husband's  foible  knows, 
By  a  few  timely  words  to  turn  the  tables, 

Which,  if  it  does  not  silence,  still  must  pose, — 
Even  if  it  should  comprise  a  pack  of  fables ; 

'T  is  to  retort  with  firmness,  and  when  he 

Suspects  with  one,  do  you  reproach  with  three. 

CLXXVI. 
Julia,  in  fact,  had  tolerable  grounds, — 

Alfonso's  loves  with  Inez  were  well  known ; 
But  whether  't  was  that  one's  own  guilt  confounds — 

But  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 ; 

Alfonso  ne'er  to  Juan  had  alluded, — 
Mentioned  his  jealousy,  but  never  who 

Had  been  the  happy  lover,  he  concluded, 
Concealed  amongst  his  premises ;  't  is  true, 

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 l — 
(That  modern  phrase  appears  to  me  sad  stuff, 

But  it  will  serve  to  keep  my  verse  compact) — 
Which  keeps,  when  pushed  by  questions  rather  rough, 

A  lady  always  distant  from  the  fact : 

i.  [Compare  "The  use  made  in  the  French  tongue  of  the  word  tact, 
to  denote  that  delicate  sense  of  propriety,  which  enables  a  man  iofeel 
his  way  in  the  difficult  intercourse  of  polished  society,  seems  to  have 
been  suggested  by  similar  considerations  (i.e.  similar  to  those  which 
suggested  the  use  of  the  word  taste)."— Outlines  of  Moral  Philosophy, 
by  Dugald  Stewart,  Part  I.  sect.  x.  ed.  1855,  p.  48.  For  D'Alembert's 
use  of  tact,  to  denote  "that  peculiar  delicacy  of  perception  (which, 
like  the  nice  touch  of  a  blind  man)  arises  from  habits  of  close  attention 
to  those  slighter  feelings  which  escape  general  notice,"  see  Philosophical 
Essays,  by  Dugald  Stewart,  1818,  p.  603.] 


64  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

The  charming  creatures  lie  with  such  a  grace, 
There  's  nothing  so  becoming  to  the  face. 

CLXXIX. 

They  blush,  and  we  believe  them ;  at  least  I 
Have  always  done  so ;  't  is  of  no  great  use, 

In  any  case,  attempting  a  reply, 

For  then  their  eloquence  grows  quite  profuse ; 

And  when  at  length  they  're  out  of  breath,  they  sigh, 
And  cast  their  languid  eyes  down,  and  let  loose 

A  tear  or  two,  and  then  we  make  it  up ; 

And  then — and  then — and  then — sit  down  and  sup. 

CLXXX. 

Alfonso  closed  his  speech,  and  begged  her  pardon, 
Which  Julia  half  withheld,  and  then  half  granted, 

And  laid  conditions  he  thought  very  hard  on, 
Denying  several  little  things  he  wanted : 

He  stood  like  Adam  lingering  near  his  garden, 
With  useless  penitence  perplexed  and  haunted ;  '• 

Beseeching  she  no  further  would  refuse, 

When,  lo  !  he  stumbled  o'er  a  pair  of  shoes. 

CLXXXI. 

A  pair  of  shoes  ! l — 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  ! 

i.    With  base  suspicion  now  no  longer  haunted. — [MS.] 

i.  [For  the  incident  of  the  shoes,  Lord  Byron  was  probably  indebted 
to  the  Scottish  ballad— 

"  Our  goodman  came  hame  at  e'en,  and  hame  came  he  ; 
He  spy'd  a  pair  of  jack-boots,  where  nae  boots  should  be, 
What 's  this  now,  goodwife?    What 's  this  I  see  ? 
How  came  these  boots  there,  without  the  leave  o'  me ! 
Boots  !  quo'  she  : 
Ay,  boots,  quo'  he. 

Shame  fa'  your  cuckold  face,  and  ill  mat  ye  see, 
It  's  but  a  pair  of  water  stoups  the  cooper  sent  to  me,"  etc. 
See  James  Johnson's  Musical  Museum,  1787,  etc.,  v.  466.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  65 

Alfonso  first  examined  well  their  fashion, 
And  then  flew  out  into  another  passion. 

CLXXXII. 
He  left  the  room  for  his  relinquished  sword, 

And  Julia  instant  to  the  closet  flew. 
"  Fly,  Juan,  fly  !  for  Heaven's  sake — not  a  word — 

The  door  is  open — you  may  yet  slip  through 
The  passage  you  so  often  have  explored — 

Here  is  the  garden-key — Fly — fly — Adieu  ! 
Haste — haste  !  I  hear  Alfonso's  hurrying  feet — 
Day  has  not  broke — there  's  no  one  in  the  street." 

CLXXXIII. 
None  can  say  that  this  was  not  good  advice, 

The  only  mischief  was,  it  came  too  late ; 
Of  all  experience  't  is  the  usual  price, 

A  sort  of  income-tax  laid  on  by  fate  : 
Juan  had  reached  the  room-door  in  a  trice, 

And  might  have  done  so  by  the  garden-gate, 
But  met  Alfonso  in  his  dressing-gown, 
Who  threatened  death — so  Juan  knocked  him  down. 

CLXXXIV. 
Dire  was  the  scuffle,  and  out  went  the  light ; 

Antonia  cried  out  "  Rape  ! "  and  Julia  "  Fire  ! " 
But  not  a  servant  stirred  to  aid  the  fight. 

Alfonso,  pommelled  to  his  heart's  desire, 
Swore  lustily  he  'd  be  revenged  this  night ; 

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  dropped  ere  he  could  draw  it, 

And  they  continued  battling  hand  to  hand, 
For  Juan  very  luckily  ne'er  saw  it ; 

His  temper  not  being  under  great  command, 
If  at  that  moment  he  had  chanced  to  claw  it, 

Alfonso's  days  had  not  been  in  the  land 
Much  longer. — Think  of  husbands',  lovers'  lives  ! 
And  how  ye  may  be  doubly  widows — wives  ! 

VOL.  VI.  F 


66  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

CLXXXVI. 
Alfonso  grappled  to  detain  the  foe, 

And  Juan  throttled  him  to  get  away, 
And  blood  ('t  was  from  the  nose)  began  to  flow ; 

At  last,  as  they  more  faintly  wrestling  lay, 
Juan  contrived  to  give  an  awkward  blow, 

And  then  his  only  garment  quite  gave  way ; 
He  fled,  like  Joseph,  leaving  it ;  but  there, 
I  doubt,  all  likeness  ends  between  the  pair. 

CLXXXVII. 
Lights  came  at  length,  and  men,  and  maids,  who  found 

An  awkward  spectacle  their  eyes  before ; 
Antonia  in  hysterics,  Julia  swooned, 

Alfonso  leaning,  breathless,  by  the  door ; 
Some  half-torn  drapery  scattered  on  the  ground, 

Some  blood,  and  several  footsteps,  but  no  more : 
Juan  the  gate  gained,  turned  the  key  about, 
And  liking  not  the  inside,  locked  the  out. 

CLXXXVIII. 
Here  ends  this  canto. — Need  I  sing,  or  say, 

How  Juan,  naked,  favoured  by  the  night, 
Who  favours  what  she  should  not,  found  his  way,1' 

And  reached  his  home  in  an  unseemly  plight  ? 
The  pleasant  scandal  which  arose  next  day, 

The  nine  days'  wonder  which  was  brought  to  light, 
And  how  Alfonso  sued  for  a  divorce, 
Were  in  the  English  newspapers,  of  course. 

CLXXXIX. 

If  you  would  like  to  see  the  whole  proceedings, 

The  depositions,  and  the  Cause  at  full, 
The  names  of  all  the  witnesses,  the  pleadings 

Of  Counsel  to  nonsuit,  or  to  annul, 
There  's  more  than  one  edition,  and  the  readings 

Are  various,  but  they  none  of  them  are  dull : 
The  best  is  that  in  short-hand  ta'en  by  Gurney,1 
Who  to  Madrid  on  purpose  made  a  journey.2 

i.  Found — heaven  knows  how — his  solitary  way. — [JlfS.] 
i.  [William  Brodie  Gurney  (1777-1855),  the  son  and  grandson  of 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  67 

cxc. 

But  Donna  Inez,  to  divert  the  train 
Of  one  of  the  most  circulating  scandals 

eminent  shorthand  writers,  ' '  reported  the  proceedings  against  the 
Duke  of  York  in  1809,  the  trials  of  Lord  Cochrane  in  1814,  and  of 
Thistlewood  in  1820,  and  the  proceedings  against  Queen  Caroline." — 
Diet,  of  Nat.  Biog.,  art.  "Gurney."] 

2.  ["Venice,  December  7,  1818. 

"After  that  stanza  in  the  first  canto  of  Don  Juan  (sent  by  Lord 
Lauderdale)  towards  the  conclusion  of  the  canto — I  speak  of  the  stanza 
whose  two  last  lines  are — 

1 ' '  The  best  is  that  in  short-hand  ta'en  by  Gurney, 
Who  to  Madrid  on  purpose  made  a  journey,' 

insert  the  following  stanzas,  '  But  Donna  Inez,'  etc." — [B.j 

The  text  is  based  on  a  second  or  revised  copy  of  stanzas  cxc.-cXcviii. 
Many  of  the  corrections  and  emendations  which  were  inserted  in  the 
first  draft  are  omitted  in  the  later  and  presumably  improved  version. 
Byron's  first  intention  was  to  insert  seven  stanzas  after  stanza  clxxxix. , 
descriptive  and  highly  depreciatory  of  Brougham,  but  for  reasons  of 
"  fairness"  (vide  infra)  he  changed  his  mind.  The  casual  mention  of 
"blundering  Brougham"  in  English  Bards,  etc.  (line  524,  Poetical 
Works,  1898,  i.  338,  note  2),  is  a  proof  that  his  suspicions  were  not 
aroused  as  to  the  authorship  of  the  review  of  Hours  of  Idleness  (Edin. 
Rev.,  January,  1808),  and  it  is  certain  that  Byron's  animosity  was  due 
to  the  part  played  by  Brougham  at  the  time  of  the  Separation.  (In 
a  letter  to  Byron,  dated  February  18,  1817,  Murray  speaks  of  a  certain 
B.  "as  your  incessant  persecutor — the  source  of  all  affected  public 
opinion  respecting  you.")  The  stanzas,  with  the  accompanying  notes, 
are  not  included  in  the  editions  of  1833  or  1837,  and  are  now  printed 
for  the  first  time. 

I. 

"  'Twas  a  fine  cause  for  those  in  law  delighting — 
'Tis  pity  that  they  had  no  Brougham  in  Spain, 
Famous  for  always  talking,  and  ne'er  fighting, 
For  calling  names,  and  taking  them  again  ; 
For  blustering,  bungling,  trimming,  wrangling,  writing, 

Groping  all  paths  to  power,  and  all  in  vain — 
Losing  elections,  character,  and  temper, 
A  foolish,  clever,  fellow — Idem  semper  ! 

II. 
"  Bully  in  Senates,  skulker  in  the  Field,* 

The  Adulterer's  advocate  when  duly  feed, 
The  libeller's  gratis  Counsel,  dirty  shield 

Which  Law  affords  to  many  a  dirty  deed  ; 
A  wondrous  Warrior  against  those  who  yield — 

A  rod  to  Weakness,  to  the  brave  a  reed — 
The  People's  sycophant,  the  Prince's  foe, 
And  serving  him  the  more  by  being  so. 


[*  For  Brougham's  Fabian  tactics  with  regard  to  duelling,  vide  post, 
Canto  XIII.  stanza  Ixxxiv.  line  i,  p.  506,  note  i.] 


68  DON   JUAN.  tCANTO  *• 

That  had  for  centuries  been  known  in  Spain, 
At  least  since  the  retirement  of  the  Vandals, 

in. 

"  Tory  by  nurture,  Whig  by  Circumstance, 
A  Democrat  some  once  or  twice  a  year, 
Whene'er  it  suits  his  purpose  to  advance 
His  vain  ambition  in  its  vague  career  : 
A  sort  of  Orator  by  sufferance, 

Less  for  the  comprehension  than  the  ear  ; 
With  all  the  arrogance  of  endless  power, 
Without  the  sense  to  keep  it  for  an  hour. 

IV. 

"The  House-of-Commons  Damocles  of  words — 

Above  him,  hanging  by  a  single  hair, 
On  each  harangue  depend  some  hostile  Swords  ; 

And  deems  he  that  we  always  will  forbear  ? 
Although  Defiance  oft  declined  affords 

A  blotted  shield  no  Shire's  true  knight  would  wear : 
Thersites  of  the  House,  Parolles  *  of  Law, 
The  double  Bobadill  f  takes  Scorn  for  Awe. 

v. 

"  How  noble  is  his  language — never  pert — 

How  grand  his  sentiments  which  ne'er  run  riot ! 

As  when  he  swore  '  by  God  he'd  sell  his  shirt 
To  head  the  poll ! '     I  wonder  who  would  buy  it 

The  skin  has  passed  through  such  a  deal  of  dirt 
In  grovelling  on  to  power — such  stains  now  dye  it — 

So  black  the  long-worn  Lion's  hide  in  hue, 

You'd  swear  his  very  heart  had  sweated  through. 

VI. 

"  Panting  for  power — as  harts  for  cooling  streams — 
Yet  half  afraid  to  venture  for  the  draught ; 

A  go-between,  yet  blundering  in  extremes, 
And  tossed  along  the  vessel  fore  and  aft ; 

Now  shrinking  back,  now  midst  the  first  he  seems, 
Patriot  by  force,  and  courtisan  +  by  craft ; 

Quick  without  wit,  and  violent  without  strength — 

A  disappointed  Lawyer,  at  full  length. 

VII. 

' '  A  strange  example  of  the  force  of  Law, 

And  hasty  temper  on  a  kindling  mind — 
Are  these  the  dreams  his  young  Ambition  saw? 
Poor  fellow  !  he  had  better  far  been  blind  ! 


T*   Vide  post,  Canto  XIII.  stanza  Ixxxiv.  line  i,  p.  506,  note  i.] 

[t  For    "Captain    Bobadill,    a    Paul's    man,"    see    Ben    Jonson's 

Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  act  iv.  sc.  5,  et  passim."] 
£  [The  N.  Eng.  Diet,  -quotes  a  passage  in   Pkil.    Trans.,  iv.    286 

(1669),  as  the  latest  instance  of  "courtisan"  for  "courtier."] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  69 

First  vowed  (and  never  had  she  vowed  in  vain) 
To  Virgin  Mary  several  pounds  of  candles  ; 

I'm  sorry  thus  to  probe  a  wound  so  raw — 
But,  then,  as  Bard  my  duty  to  Mankind, 
For  warning  to  the  rest,  compels  these  raps — 
As  Geographers  lay  down  a  Shoal  in  Maps." 

NOTE  TO  THE  ANNEXED  STANZAS  ON  BROUGHAM. 

"  Distrusted  by  the  Democracy,  disliked  by  the  Whigs,  and  detested 
by  the  Tories,  too  much  of  a  lawyer  for  the  people,  and  too  much  of  a 
demagogue  for  Parliament,  a  contestor  of  counties,  and  a  Candidate 
for  cities,  the  refuse  of  half  the  Electors  of  England,  and  representative 
at  last  upon  sufferance  of  the  proprietor  of  some  rotten  borough,  which 
it  would  have  been  more  independent  to  have  purchased,  a  speaker 
upon  all  questions,  and  the  outcast  of  all  parties,  his  support  has 
become  alike  formidable  to  all  his  enemies  (for  he  has  no  friends),  and 
his  vote  can  be  only  valuable  when  accompanied  by  his  Silence.  A 
disappointed  man  with  a  bad  temper,  he  is  endowed  with  considerable 
but  not  first-rate  abilities,  and  has  blundered  on  through  life,  remark- 
able only  for  a  fluency,  in  which  he  has  many  rivals  at  the  bar  and 
in  the  Senate,  and  an  eloquence  in  which  he  has  several  Superiors. 
'  Willing  to  wound  and  not  afraid  to  strike,'  until  he  receives  a  blow  in 
return,  he  has  not  yet  betrayed  any  illegal  ardour,  or  Irish  alacrity,  in 
accepting  the  defiances,  and  resenting  the  disgraceful  terms  which  his 
proneness  to  evil-speaking  have  (sic)  brought  upon  him.  In  the  cases 
of  Mackinnonand  Manners,*  he  sheltered  himself  behind  those  parlia- 
mentary privileges,  which  Fox,  Pitt,  Canning,  Castlereagh,  Tierney, 
Adam,  Shelburne,  Grattan,  Corry,  Curran,  and  Clare  disdained  to 
adopt  as  their  buckler.  The  House  of  Commons  became  the  Asylum 
of  his  Slander,  as  the  Churches  of  Rome  were  once  the  Sanctuary  of 
Assassins. 

"  His  literary  reputation  (with  the  exception  of  one  work  of  his  early 
career)  rests  upon  some  anonymous  articles  imputed  to  him  in  a  cele- 
brated periodical  work  ;  but  even  these  are  surpassed  by  the  Essays  of 
others  in  the  same  Journal.  He  has  tried  every  thing  and  succeeded 
in  nothing  ;  and  he  may  perhaps  finish  as  a  Lawyer  without  practice, 
as  he  has  already  been  occasionally  an  orator  without  an  audience,  if 
not  soon  cut  short  in  his  career. 

' '  The  above  character  is  not  written  impartially,  but  by  one  who  has 
had  occasion  to  know  some  of  the  baser  parts  of  it,  and  regards  him 
accordingly  with  shuddering  abhorrence,  and  just  so  much  fear  as  he 
deserves.  In  him  is  to  be  dreaded  the  crawling  of  the  centipede,  not 
the  spring  of  the  tiger — the  venom  of  the  reptile,  not  the  strength  of 
the  animal — the  rancour  of  the  miscreant,  not  the  courage  of  the  Man. 

"  In  case  the  prose  or  verse  of  the  above  should  be  actionable,  I  put 


*  [Possibly  George  Manners  (1778-1853),  editor  of  The  Satirist, 
whose  appointment  to  a  foreign  consulate  Brougham  sharply  criticized 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  July  9,  1817  (Parl.  Deb.,  vol.  xxxvi.  pp.  1320, 
1321) ;  and  Daniel  Mackinnon  (1791-1836),  the  nephew  of  Henry 
Mackinnon,  who  fell  at  Ciudad  Rodrigo.  Byron  met  "Dan"  Mac- 
kinnon at  Lisbon  in  1809,  and  (Gronow,  Reminiscences,  1889,  ii.  259, 
260)  was  amused  by  his  "various  funny  stories."] 


7o  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

And  then,  by  the  advice  of  some  old  ladies, 
She  sent  her  son  to  be  shipped  off  from  Cadiz. 

cxci. 
She  had  resolved  that  he  should  travel  through 

All  European  climes,  by  land  or  sea, 
To  mend  his  former  morals,  and  get  new, 

Especially  in  France  and  Italy — 
(At  least  this  is  the  thing  most  people  do.) 

Julia  was  sent  into  a  convent — she 

my  name,  that  the  man  may  rather  proceed  against  me  than  the  pub- 
lisher— not  without  some  faint  hope  that  the  brand  with  which  I  blast 
him  may  induce  him,  however  reluctantly,  to  a  manlier  revenge." 

EXTRACT  FROM  LETTER  TO  MURRAY. 

"  I  enclose  you  the  stanzas  which  were  intended  for  I*1  Canto,  after 
the  line 

"  '  Who  to  Madrid  on  purpose  made  a  journey  : ' 

but  I  do  not  mean  them  for  present  publication,  because  I  will  not,  at 
this  distance,  publish  that  of  a  Man,  for  which  he  has  a  claim  upon 
another  too  remote  to  give  him  redress. 

"With  regard  to  the  Miscreant  Brougham,  however,  it  was  only 
long  after  the  fact,  and  I  was  made  acquainted  with  the  language  he 
had  held  of  me  on  my  leaving  England  (with  regard  to  the  Ds.s  of  D.  's 
house),*  and  his  letter  to  M?  de  Stael,  and  various  matters  for  all  of 
which  the  first  time  he  and  I  foregather — be  it  in  England,  be  it  on 
earth — he  shall  account,  and  one  of  the  two  be  carried  home. 

"  As  I  have  no  wish  to  have  mysteries,  I  merely  prohibit  the  publica- 
tion of  these  stanzas  in  print,  for  the  reasons  of  fairness  mentioned  ; 
but  I  by  no  means  wish  him  not  to  know  their  existence  or  their  tenor, 
nor  my  intentions  as  to  himself:  he  has  shown  no  forbearance,  and  he 
shall  find  none.  You  may  show  them  to  him  and  to  all  whom  it  may 
concern,  with  the  explanation  that  the  only  reason  that  I  have  not  had 
satisfaction  of  this  man  has  been,  that  I  have  never  had  an  opportunity 
since  I  was  aware  of  the  facts,  which  my  friends  had  carefully  con- 
cealed from  me;  and  it  was  only  by  slow  degrees,  and  by  piecemeal, 
that  I  got  at  them.  I  have  not  sought  him,  nor  gone  out  of  my  way 
for  him;  but  I  will^/fW  him,  and  then  we  can  have  it  out :  he  has 
shown  so  little  courage,  that  he  must  fight  at  last  in  his  absolute 
necessity  to  escape  utter  degradation. 

"  I  send  you  the  stanzas,  which  (except  the  last)  have  been  written 
nearly  two  years,  merely  because  I  have  been  lately  copying  out  most 
of  the  MSS.  which  were  in  my  drawers." 


*  [Byron's  town-house,  in  1815-1816,  No.  13,  Piccadilly,  belonged 
to  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire.  When  he  went  abroad  in  April,  1816, 
the  rent  was  still  unpaid.  The  duchess,  through  her  agent,  distrained, 
but  was  unable  to  recover  the  debt.  See  Byron's  "  Letter  to  Elizabeth, 
Duchess  of  Devonshire,"  November  3,  1817,  Letters,  1900,  iv.  178.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  7 1 

Grieved — but,  perhaps,  her  feelings  may  be  better'- 
Shown  in  the  following  copy  of  her  Letter : — 

cxcir. 
"  They  tell  me  't  is  decided  you  depart : 

'T  is  wise — 't  is  well,  but  not  the  less  a  pain ; 
I  have  no  further  claim  on  your  young  heart, 

Mine  is  the  victim,  and  would  be  again  : 
To  love  too  much  has  been  the  only  art 

I  used  ; — I  write  in  haste,  and  if  a  stain 
Be  on  this  sheet,  't  is  not  what  it  appears ; 
My  eyeballs  burn  and  throb,  but  have  no  tears. 

CXCIII. 

"  I  loved,  I  love  you,  for  this  love  have  lost 

State,  station,  Heaven,  Mankind's,  my  own  esteem, 

And  yet  can  not  regret  what  it  hath  cost, 
So  dear  is  still  the  memory  of  that  dream  ; 

Yet,  if  I  name  my  guilt,  't  is  not  to  boast, 

None  can  deem  harshlier  of  me  than  I  deem  : 

I  trace  this  scrawl  because  I  cannot  rest — 

I  've  nothing  to  reproach,  or  to  request. 

cxciv. 
"  Man's  love  is  of  man's  life  a  thing  apart,"-  ' 

'T  is  a  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  can  not  estrange ; 
Men  have  all  these  resources,  We  but  one,1 
To  love  again,  and  be  again  undone.'"- 

i.      Julia  was  sent  into  a  nunnery, 

And  there,  perhaps,  her  feelings  may  be  better. — \MS.  M.] 

ii.  Man's  love  is  of  his  life . — [MS.  MJ\ 

iii.   To  mourn  alone  the  love  -which  has  undone. 

or,   To  lift  our  fatal  love  to  God  from  man. 

Take  that  which,  of  these  three,  seems  the  best  prescription. — B. 

i.  ["Que  les  hommes  sont  heureux  d'aller  a  la  guerre,  d'exposer 
leur  vie,  de  se  livrer  a  1'enthousiasme  de  1'honneur  et  du  danger  !  Mais 
il  n'y  a  rien  au-dehors  qui  soulage  les  femmes." — Corinnt,  ou  L  Italie, 
Madame  de  Stael,  liv. ,  xviii.  chap.  v.  ed.  1835,  iii.  209.] 


72  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

cxcv. 
"  You  will  proceed  in  pleasure,  and  in  pride,'1 

Beloved  and  loving  many ;  all  is  o'er 
For  me  on  earth,  except  some  years  to  hide 

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  spirit 's  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  fixed  soul.iv- 

cxcvn. 
"  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  fulfil, 

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  ! " 

CXCVIII. 

This  note  was  written  upon  gilt-edged  paper 
With  a  neat  little  crow-quill,  slight  and  new ; v- 

i.    You  will  proceed  in  beauty  and  in  pride, 
You  will  return .—  [MS.  M.} 

I  fatal  now  \ 
lost  for  me  \-but  let  it  go.— {MS.  M.} 
deadly  now] 

Hi.  I  struggle,  but  can  not  collect  my  mind. — [AfS.] 
iv.  As  turns  the  needle  trembling  to  the  pole 

It  ne'er  can  reach — so  turns  to  you  my  soitl. — [MS.] 
v.    With  a  neat  crow-quill,  rather  hard,  but  new. — [MS.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  73 

Her  small  white  hand  could  hardly  reach  the  taper, 

It  trembled  as  magnetic  needles  do, 
And  yet  she  did  not  let  one  tear  escape  her ; 

The  seal  a  sun-flower ;  "  Elle  vous  suit  par  tout"  1 
The  motto  cut  upon  a  white  cornelian ; 
The  wax  was  superfine,  its  hue  vermilion. 

CXCIX. 

This  was  Don  Juan's  earliest  scrape ;  but  whether 

I  shall  proceed  with  his  adventures  is 
Dependent  on  the  public  altogether ; 

We  '11  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  '11  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, 

With  strict  regard  to  Aristotle's  rules, 
The  Vade  Mecum  of  the  true  sublime, 

Which  makes  so  many  poets,  and  some  fools  : 
Prose  poets  like  blank-verse,  I  'm  fond  of  rhyme, 

Good  workmen  never  quarrel  with  their  tools ; 
I  've  got  new  mythological  machinery, 
And  very  handsome  supernatural  scenery. 

i.       And  there  are  other  incidents  remaining 
Which  shall  be  specified  in  fitting  time, 
With  good  discretion,  and  in  current  rhyme. — [MS.] 

i.  [Byron  had  a  seal  bearing  this  motto.] 


74  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

ecu. 
There  's  only  one  slight  difference  between 

Me  and  my  epic  brethren  gone  before, 
And  here  the  advantage  is  my  own,  I  ween 

(Not  that  I  have  not  several  merits  more, 
But  this  will  more  peculiarly  be  seen) ; 

They  so  embellish,  that 't  is  quite  a  bore 
Their  labyrinth  of  fables  to  thread  through, 
Whereas  this  story  's  actually  true. 

CCIII. 

If  any  person  doubt  it,  I  appeal 

To  History,  Tradition,  and  to  Facts, 
To  newspapers,  whose  truth  all  know  and  feel, 

To  plays  in  five,  and  operas  in  three  acts ; l 
All  these  confirm  my  statement  a  good  deal, 

But  that  which  more  completely  faith  exacts 
Is,  that  myself,  and  several  now  in  Seville, 
Saw  Juan's  last  elopement  with  the  Devil. 

cciv. 
If  ever  I  should  condescend  to  prose, 

I  '11  write  poetical  commandments,  which 
Shall  supersede  beyond  all  doubt  all  those 

That  went  before ;  in  these  I  shall  enrich 
My  text  with  many  things  that  no  one  knows, 

And  carry  precept  to  the  highest  pitch : 
I  '11  call  the  work  "  Longinus  o'er  a  Bottle," 
Or,  Every  Poet  his  vwn  Aristotle." 

ccv. 
Thou  shalt  believe  in  Milton,  Dryden,  Pope ; 

Thou  shalt  not  set  up  Wordsworth,  Coleridge,  Southey ; 
Because  the  first  is  crazed  beyond  all  hope, 

The  second  drunk,1  the  third  so  quaint  and  mouthy : 

i.    To  newspapers,  to  sermons,  which  the  zeal 

Of  pious  men  have  published  on  his  acts. — [MS.] 
ii.  m  call  the  work  "Reflections  o'er  a  Bottle."— [MS.} 

I.  [Here,  and  elsewhere  in  Don  Juan,  Byron  attacked  Coleridge 
fiercely  and  venomously,  because  he  believed  that  his  prottgi  had 
accepted  patronage  and  money,  and,  notwithstanding,  had  retailed 
scandalous  statements  to  the  detriment  and  dishonour  of  his  advocate 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  75 

With  Crabbe  it  may  be  difficult  to  cope, 

And  Campbell's  Hippocrene  is  somewhat  drouthy  : 
Thou  shalt  not  steal  from  Samuel  Rogers,  nor 
Commit — flirtation  with  the  muse  of  Moore. 

ccvi. 
Thou  shalt  not  covet  Mr.  Sotheby's  Muse, 

His  Pegasus,  nor  anything  that 's  his  ; 
Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness  like  "  the  Blues  " — 

(There  's  one,  at  least,  is  very  fond  of  this) ; 
Thou  shalt  not  write,  in  short,  but  what  I  choose : 

This  is  true  criticism,  and  you  may  kiss — 
Exactly  as  you  please,  or  not, — the  rod ; 
But  if  you  don't,  I  '11  lay  it  on,  by  G — d  ! 

ccvn. 
If  any  person  should  presume  to  assert 

This  story  is  not  moral,  first,  I  pray,     • 
That  they  will  not  cry  out  before  they  're  hurt, 

Then  that  they  '11  read  it  o'er  again,  and  say 
(But,  doubtless,  nobody  will  be  so  pert) 

That  this  is  not  a  moral  tale,  though  gay  : 
Besides,  in  Canto  Twelfth,  I  mean  to  show 
The  very  place  where  wicked  people  go. 

ccvi  1 1. 
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. 

and  benefactor  (see  letter  to  Murray,  November  24,  1818,  Letters, 
1900,  iv.  272;  and  "  Introduction  to  the  Vision  of  Judgment,"  Poetical 
Works,  1901,  iv.  475).  Byron  does  not  substantiate  his  charge  of 
ingratitude,  and  there  is  nothing  to  show  whether  Coleridge  ever  knew 
why  a  once  friendly  countenance  was  changed  towards  him.  He  might 
have  asked,  with  the  Courtenays,  Ubi  lapsus,  quid  fed  ?  If  Byron 
had  been  on  his  mind  or  his  conscience  he  would  have  drawn  up  an 
elaborate  explanation  or  apology  ;  but  nothing  of  the  kind  is  extant. 
He  took  the  abuse  as  he  had  taken  the  favours — for  the  unmerited  gifts 
of  the  blind  goddess  Fortune.  (See,  too,  Letter  .  .  .,  by  John  Bull, 
1821,  p.  14.)] 


76  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

ccix. 

The  public  approbation  I  expect, 

And  beg  they  '11  take  my  word  about  the  moral, 
Which  I  with  their  amusement  will  connect 

(So  children  cutting  teeth  receive  a  coral) ; 
Meantime  they  '11  doubtless  please  to  recollect 

My  epical  pretensions  to  the  laurel : 
For  fear  some  prudish  readers  should  grow  skittish, 
I  've  bribed  my  Grandmother's  Review — the  British.1 

ccx. 

I  sent  it  in  a  letter  to  the  Editor, 

Who  thanked  me  duly  by  return  of  post — 

I  *m  for  a  handsome  article  his  creditor ; 
Yet,  if  my  gentle  Muse  he  please  to  roast, 

And  break  a  promise  after  having  made  it  her, 
Denying  the  receipt  of  what  it  cost, 

And  smear  his  page  with  gall  instead  of  honey, 

All  I  can  say  is — that  he  had  the  money. 

ccxi. 

I  think  that  with  this  holy  new  alliance 

I  may  ensure  the  public,  and  defy 
All  other  magazines  of  art  or  science, 

Daily,  or  monthly,  or  three  monthly ;  I 
Have  not  essayed  to  multiply  their  clients, 

Because  they  tell  me  't  were  in  vain  to  try, 
And  that  the  Edinburgh  Review  and  Quarterly 
Treat  a  dissenting  author  very  martyrly. 

i.  [Compare  Byron's  "Letter  to  the  Editor  of  My  Grandmother's 
Review,"  Letters,  1900,  iv.  Appendix  VII.  465-470;  and  letter  to 
Murray,  August  24,  1819,  ibid.,  p.  348  :  "  I  wrote  to  you  by  last  post, 
enclosing  a  buffooning  letter  for  publication,  addressed  to  the  buffoon 
Roberts,  who  has  thought  proper  to  tie  a  canister  to  his  own  tail.  It 
was  written  off-hand,  and  in  the  midst  of  circumstances  not  very 
favourable  to  facetiousness,  so  that  there  may,  perhaps,  be  more 
bitterness  than  enough  for  that  sort  of  small  acid  punch."  The  letter 
was  in  reply  to  a  criticism  of  Don  Juan  (Cantos  I.,  II.)  in  the  British 
tfei'iew  (No.  xxvii.,  1819,  vol.  14,  pp.  266-268),  in  which  the  Editor 
assumed,  or  feigned  to  assume,  that  the  accusation  of  bribery  was  to 
be  taken  an  grand  strieux.} 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  77 

CCXII. 

"  Non  ego  hoc  ferrem  calidus  juventfr 
Consule  Planco"  1  Horace  said,  and  so 

Say  I ;  by  which  quotation  there  is  meant  a 
Hint  that  some  six  or  seven  good  years  ago 

(Long  ere  I  dreamt  of  dating  from  the  Brenta) 
I  was  most  ready  to  return  a  blow, 

And  would  not  brook  at  all  this  sort  of  thing 

In  my  hot  youth — when  George  the  Third  was  King. 

CCXIII. 

But  now  at  thirty  years  my  hair  is  grey — 
(I  wonder  what  it  will  be  like  at  forty  ? 

I  thought  of  a  peruke  the  other  day — ) L 

My  heart  is  not  much  greener ;  and,  in  short,  I 

Have  squandered  my  whole  summer  while  't  was  May, 
And  feel  no  more  the  spirit  to  retort ;  I 

Have  spent  my  life,  both  interest  and  principal, 

And  deem  not,  what  I  deemed — my  soul  invincible. 

ccxiv. 
No  more — no  more — Oh  !  never  more  on  me 

The  freshness  of  the  heart  can  fall  like  dew, 
Which  out  of  all  the  lovely  things  we  see 

Extracts  emotions  beautiful  and  new, 
Hived  2  in  our  bosoms  like  the  bag  o'  the  bee. 

Think'st  thou  the  honey  with  those  objects  grew  ? 
Alas  !  't  was  not  in  them,  but  in  thy  power 
To  double  even  the  sweetness  of  a  flower. 

ccxv. 
No  more — no  more — Oh  !  never  more,  my  heart, 

Canst  thou  be  my  sole  world,  my  universe  ! 
Once  all  in  all,  but  now  a  thing  apart, 

Thou  canst  not  be  my  blessing  or  my  curse : 
The  illusion  's  gone  for  ever,  and  thou  art 

Insensible,  I  trust,  but  none  the  worse, 

i.  /  thought  of  dyeing  it  tlie  oilier  day. — [A/5.] 

1.  [Hor.,  Od.  III.  C.  xiv.  lines  27,  28.] 

2.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  III.  stanza  cvii.  line  2.] 


78  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  I. 

And  in  thy  stead  I  Ve  got  a  deal  of  judgment, 
Though  Heaven  knows  how  it  ever  found  a  lodgment. 

ccxvi. 
My  days  of  love  are  over ;  me  no  more  l 

The  charms  of  maid,  wife,  and  still  less  of  widow, 
Can  make  the  fool  of  which  they  made  before, — 

In  short,  I  must  not  lead  the  life  I  did  do ; 
The  credulous  hope  of  mutual  minds  is  o'er, 

The  copious  use  of  claret  is  forbid  too, 
So  for  a  good  old-gentlemanly  vice, 
I  think  I  must  take  up  with  avarice. 

ccxvu. 
Ambition  was  my  idol,  which  was  broken 

Before  the  shrines  of  Sorrow,  and  of  Pleasure ; 
And  the  two  last  have  left  me  many  a  token 

O'er  which  reflection  may  be  made  at  leisure : 
Now,  like  Friar  Bacon's  Brazen  Head,  I  've  spoken, 

"  Time   is,   Time   was,  Time  's   past : " 2 — a   chymic 

treasure 

Is  glittering  Youth,  which  I  have  spent  betimes — 
My  heart  in  passion,  and  my  head  on  rhymes. 

CCXVIII. 

What  is  the  end  of  Fame  ?  't  is  but  to  fill 

A  certain  portion  of  uncertain  paper  : 
Some  liken  it  to  climbing  up  a  hill, 

Whose  summit,  like  all  hills,  is  lost  in  vapour ; 3 

1.  "Me  nee  femina,  nee  puer 

Jam,  nee  spes  animi  credula  mutui, 

Nee  certare  juvat  mero  ; 
Nee  vincire  novis  tempora  floribus." 

Hot.,  Od.  IV.  i.  30. 

[In  the  revise  the  words  nee  puer  Jam  were  omitted.  On  this 
Hobhouse  comments,  ' '  Better  add  the  whole  or  scratch  out  all  after 
femina." — "Quote  the  whole  then — it  was  only  in  compliance  with 
your  settentrionale  notions  that  I  left  out  the  remnant  of  the  line." — [B.]] 

2.  [For  "  How  Fryer  Bacon  made  a  Brazen  head  to  speak,"  see  The 
Famous  Historie  of  Fryer  Bacon  (Reprint,  London,  1815,  pp.  13-18  ; 
see,  too,  Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  by  Robert  Greene,  ed.  Rev. 
Alexander  Dyce,  1861,  pp.  153-181.] 

3.  ["  Ah  !  who  can  tell  how  hard  it  is  to  climb 

The  steep  where  Fame's  proud  temple  shines  afar?"  etc. 
Beattie's  Minstrel,  Bk.  I.  stanza  i.  lines  i,  2.] 


CANTO  I.]  DON   JUAN.  79 

For  this  men  write,  speak,  preach,  and  heroes  kill, 

And  bards    burn    what    they   call    their   "midnight 

taper," 

To  have,  when  the  original  is  dust, 
A  name,  a  wretched  picture  and  worse  bust.'- l 

ccxix. 

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, 
Since  not  a  pinch  of  dust  remains  of  Cheops.2 

ccxx. 

But  I,  being  fond  of  true  philosophy, 

Say  very  often  to  myself,  "  Alas  ! 
All  things  that  have  been  born  were  born  to  die, 

And  flesh  (which  Death  mows  down  to  hay)  is  grass  j 
You  've  passed  your  youth  not  so  unpleasantly, 

And  if  you  had  it  o'er  again — 't  would  pass — 
So  thank  your  stars  that  matters  are  no  worse, 
And  read  your  Bible,  sir,  and  mind  your  purse." 

i.  A  book — a  damned  bad  picture — and  worse  bust.* — \MS.~] 

1.  [Byron  sat  for  his  bust  to  Thorwaldsen,  in  May,  1817.] 

2.  [This  stanza  appears  to  have  been  suggested  by  the  following 
passage  in  the  Quarterly  Review,  April,  1818,  vol.  xix.  p.  203:  "[It 
was]  the  opinion  of  the  Egyptians,  that  the  soul  never  deserted  the  body 
while  the  latter  continued  in  a  perfect  state.   To  secure  this  union,  King 
Cheops  is  said,  by  Herodotus,  to  have  employed  three  hundred  and  sixty 
thousand  of  his  subjects  for  twenty  years  in  raising  over  the  '  angusta 
domus  '  destined  to  hold  his  remains,  a  pile  of  stone  equal  in  weight  to 
six  millions  of  tons,  which  is  just  three  times  that  of  the  vast  Break- 
water thrown  across  Plymouth  Sound  ;    and,  to  render  this  precious 
dust  still  more  secure,  the  narrow  chamber  was  made  accessible  only 
by  small,  intricate  passages,  obstructed  by  stones  of  an  enormous 
weight,  and  so  carefully  closed  externally  as  not  to  be  perceptible. — 
Yet,  how  vain  are  all  the  precautions  of  man !     Not  a  bone  was  left  of 
Cheops,  either  in  the  stone  coffin,  or  in  the  vault,  when  Shaw  entered 
the  gloomy  chamber. "] 

3.  ["  Don't  swear  again — the  third  '  damn.1 " — [H.] — [Revise.]] 


8o  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  i. 

ccxxi. 

But  for  the  present,  gentle  reader !  and 

Still  gentler  purchaser  !  the  Bard — that 's  I — 

Must,  with  permission,  shake  you  by  the  hand,'- 
And  so — "  your  humble  servant,  and  Good-bye  ! " 

We  meet  again,  if  we  should  understand 
Each  other ;  and  if  not,  I  shall  not  try 

Your  patience  further  than  by  this  short  sample — 

'T  were  well  if  others  followed  my  example. 

CCXXII. 

"  Go,  little  Book,  from  this  my  solitude  ! 

I  cast  thee  on  the  waters — go  thy  ways ! 
And  if,  as  I  believe,  thy  vein  be  good, 

The  World  will  find  thee  after  many  days."  l 
When  Southey  's  read,  and  Wordsworth  understood, 

I  can't  help  putting  in  my  claim  to  praise — 
The  four  first  rhymes  are  Southey's  every  line  : 
For  God's  sake,  reader !  take  them  not  for  mine. 

Nov.  i,  1818. 

i.  Musi  bid  you  both  farewell  in  accents  bland. — [MS.] 

i.  [Lines  1-4  are  taken  from  the  last  stanza  of  the  Epilogue  to  the 
Lay  of  the  Laureate,  entitled  "  L' Envoy."  (See  Poetical  Works  of 
Robert  Southey,  1838,  x.  174.)] 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  8 1 


CANTO   THE   SECOND.1 


i. 

OH  ye  !  who  teach  the  ingenuous  youth  of  nations, 
Holland,  France,  England,  Germany,  or  Spain, 

I  pray  ye  flog  them  upon  all  occasions — 
It  mends  their  morals,  never  mind  the  pain : 

The  best  of  mothers  and  of  educations 
In  Juan's  case  were  but  employed  in  vain, 

Since,  in  a  way  that 's  rather  of  the  oddest,  he 

Became  divested  of  his  native  modesty.'- 

ii. 
Had  he  but  been  placed  at  a  public  school, 

In  the  third  form,  or  even  in  the  fourth, 
His  daily  task  had  kept  his  fancy  cool, 

At  least,  had  he  been  nurtured  in  the  North  ; 
Spain  may  prove  an  exception  to  the  rule, 

But  then  exceptions  always  prove  its  worth— 
A  lad  of  sixteen  causing  a  divorce 
Puzzled  his  tutors  very  much,  of  course. 

in. 
I  can't  say  that  it  puzzles  me  at  all, 

If  all  things  be  considered  :  first,  there  was 
His  lady-mother,  mathematical, 

A never  mind ; — his  tutor,  an  old  ass ; 

i.  Lost  that  most  precious  stone  of  stones — his  modesty. — [MS.] 

i.  Begun  at  Venice,    December   13,    1818, — finished   January   20, 
1819. 

VOL.  VI.  G 


82  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

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, 
And  all  Mankind  turn  with  it,  heads  or  tails, 

And  live  and  die,  make  love  and  pay  our  taxes, 
And  as  the  veering  wind  shifts,  shift  our  sails ; 

The  King  commands  us,  and  the  Doctor  quacks  us, 
The  Priest  instructs,  and  so  our  life  exhales, 

A  little  breath,  love,  wine,  ambition,  fame, 

Fighting,  devotion,  dust, — perhaps  a  name. 

v. 
I  said  that  Juan  had  been  sent  to  Cadiz — 

A  pretty  town,  I  recollect  it  well — 
'T  is  there  the  mart  of  the  colonial  trade  is, 

(Or  was,  before  Peru  learned  to  rebel), 
And  such  sweet  girls  ! l — I  mean,  such  graceful  ladies, 

Their  very  walk  would  make  your  bosom  swell ; 
I  can't  describe  it,  though  so  much  it  strike, 
Nor  liken  it — I  never  saw  the  like  :  '• 

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 — 

VII. 

Chaste  Muse  ! — well, — if  you  must,  you  must) — the  veil 
Thrown  back  a  moment  with  the  glancing  hand, 

i.  But  d n  me  if  I  ever  saw  the  like. — [MS.] 

i.  [Compare  "The  Girl  of  Cadiz,"  Poetical  Wor&s,  1900,  iii.  i,  and 
note  i.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  83 

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  planned 
A  dress  through  which  the  eyes  give  such  a  volley, 
Excepting  the  Venetian  Fazzioli.1 

VIII. 

But  to  our  tale  :  the  Donna  Inez  sent 

Her  son  to  Cadiz  only  to  embark  ; 
To  stay  there  had  not  answered  her  intent, 

But  why  ?  —  we  leave  the  reader  in  the  dark  — 
'T  was  for  a  voyage  the  young  man  was  meant, 

As  if  a  Spanish  ship  were  Noah's  ark, 
To  wean  him  from  the  wickedness  of  earth, 
And  send  him  like  a  Dove  of  Promise  forth. 

IX. 

Don  Juan  bade  his  valet  pack  his  things 

According  to  direction,  then  received 
A  lecture  and  some  money  :  for  four  springs 

He  was  to  travel  ;  and  though  Inez  grieved 
(As  every  kind  of  parting  has  its  stings), 

She  hoped  he  would  improve  —  perhaps  believed  : 
A  letter,  too,  she  gave  (he  never  read  it) 
Of  good  advice  —  and  two  or  three  of  credit. 

x. 

In  the  mean  time,  to  pass  her  hours  away, 

Brave  Inez  now  set  up  a  Sunday  school 
For  naughty  children,  who  would  rather  play 

(Like  truant  rogues)  the  devil,  or  the  fool  ; 
Infants  of  three  years  old  were  taught  that  day, 

Dunces  were  whipped,  or  set  upon  a  stool  : 
The  great  success  of  Juan's  education 
Spurred  her  to  teach  another  generation.'- 

i.    Their  manners  mending,  and  their  morals  curing, 
She  taught  them  to  suppress  their  vice  —  and  urine. 


i.  Fazzioli  —  literally,  little  handkerchiefs  —  the  veils  most  availing  of 
St.  Mark. 

["J/azgioli,  or  kerchiefs  (a  white  kind  of  veil  which  the  lower  orders 
wear  upon  their  heads)."—  Letter  to  Rogers,  March  3,  1818,  Letters, 
1900,  iv.  208.] 


84  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ir. 

XI. 

Juan  embarked — the  ship  got  under  way, 
The  wind  was  fair,  the  water  passing  rough ; 

A  devil  of  a  sea  rolls  in  that  bay, 

As  I,  who  've  crossed  it  oft,  know  well  enough ; 

And,  standing  on  the  deck,  the  dashing  spray 
Flies  in  one's  face,  and  makes  it  weather-tough  : 

And  there  he  stood  to  take,  and  take  again, 

His  first — perhaps  his  last — farewell  of  Spain. 

XII. 

I  can't  but  say  it  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,1 
But  almost  every  other  country  's  blue, 

When  gazing  on  them,  mystified  by  distance, 

We  enter  on  our  nautical  existence. 

XIII. 

So  Juan  stood,  bewildered  on  the  deck : 

The  wind  sung,  cordage  strained,  and  sailors  swore, 
And  the  ship  creaked,  the  town  became  a  speck, 

From  which  away  so  fair  and  fast  they  bore. 
The  best  of  remedies  is  a  beef-steak 

Against  sea-sickness  :  try  it,  Sir,  before 
You  sneer,  and  I  assure  you  this  is  true, 
For  I  have  found  it  answer — so  may  you. 

XIV. 

Don  Juan  stood,  and,  gazing  from  the  stern, 

Beheld  his  native  Spain  receding  far  : 
First  partings  form  a  lesson  hard  to  learn, 

Even  nations  feel  this  when  they  go  to  war ; 

i.  [Compare — 

"And  fast  the  white  rocks  faded  from  his  view 

And  then,  it  may  be,  of  his  wish  to  roam 
Repented  he." 

Childe  Harold,  Canto  I.  stanza  xii.  lines  3-6, 

Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  24.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  85 

There  is  a  sort  of  unexpressed  concern, 

A  kind  of  shock  that  sets  one's  heart  ajar, 
At  leaving  even  the  most  unpleasant  people 
And  places — one  keeps  looking  at  the  steeple. 

xv. 
But  Juan  had  got  many  things  to  leave, 

His  mother,  and  a  mistress,  and  no  wife, 
So  that  he  had  much  better  cause  to  grieve 

Than  many  persons  more  advanced  in  life : 
And  if  we  now  and  then  a  sigh  must  heave 

At  quitting  even  those  we  quit  in  strife, 
No  doubt  we  weep  for  those  the  heart  endears — 
That  is,  till  deeper  griefs  congeal  our  tears. 

XVI. 

So  Juan  wept,  as  wept  the  captive  Jews 
By  Babel's  waters,  still  remembering  Sion  : 

I  'd  weep, — but  mine  is  not  a  weeping  Muse, 
And  such  light  griefs  are  not  a  thing  to  die  on  ; 

Young  men  should  travel,  if  but  to  amuse 

Themselves ;  and  the  next  time  their  servants  tie  on 

Behind  their  carriages  their  new  portmanteau, 

Perhaps  it  may  be  lined  with  this  my  canto. 

XVII. 

And  Juan  wept,  and  much  he  sighed  and  thought, 
While  his  salt  tears  dropped  into  the  salt  sea, 

"  Sweets  to  the  sweet ; "  (I  like  so  much  to  quote ; 
You  must  excuse  this  extract, — 't  is  where  she, 

The  Queen  of  Denmark,  for  Ophelia  brought 
Flowers  to  the  grave ;)  and,  sobbing  often,  he 

Reflected  on  his  present  situation, 

And  seriously  resolved  on  reformation. 

XVIII. 

"  Farewell,  my  Spain  !  a  long  farewell ! "  he  cried, 
"  Perhaps  I  may  revisit  thee  no  more, 

But  die,  as  many  an  exiled  heart  hath  died, 
Of  its  own  thirst  to  see  again  thy  shore  : 

Farewell,  where  Guadalquivir's  waters  glide  ! 
Farewell,  my  mother  !  and,  since  all  is  o'er, 


86  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  it. 

Farewell,  loo,  dearest  Julia  ! — (here  he  drew 
Her  letter  out  again,  and  read  it  through.) 

XIX. 

"  And  oh  !  if  e'er  I  should  forget,  I  swear — 
But  that 's  impossible,  and  cannot  be — 

Sooner  shall  this  blue  Ocean  melt  to  air, 
Sooner  shall  Earth  resolve  itself  to  sea, 

Than  I  resign  thine  image,  oh,  my  fair ! 
Or  think  of  anything,  excepting  thee ; 

A  mind  diseased  no  remedy  can  physic — 

(Here  the  ship  gave  a  lurch,  and  he  grew  sea-sick.) 

xx. 

"  Sooner  shall  Heaven  kiss  earth — (here  he  fell  sicker) 
Oh,  Julia  !  what  is  every  other  woe  ? — 

(For  God's  sake  let  me  have  a  glass  of  liquor ; 
Pedro,  Battista,  help  me  down  below.) 

Julia,  my  love  ! — (you  rascal,  Pedro,  quicker) — 
Oh,  Julia  ! — (this  curst  vessel  pitches  so) — 

Beloved  Julia,  hear  me  still  beseeching  ! " 

(Here  he  grew  inarticulate  with  retching.) 

XXI. 

He  felt  that  chilling  heaviness  of  heart, 
Or  rather  stomach,  which,  alas  !  attends, 

Beyond  the  best  apothecary's  art, 
The  loss  of  Love,  the  treachery  of  friends, 

Or  death  of  those  we  dote  on,  when  a  part 
Of  us  dies  with  them  as  each  fond  hope  ends  : 

No  doubt  he  would  have  been  much  more  pathetic, 

But  the  sea  acted  as  a  strong  emetic. 

XXII. 

Love  's  a  capricious  power :  I  've  known  it  hold 
Out  through  a  fever  caused  by  its  own  heat, 

But  be  much  puzzled  by  a  cough  and  cold, 
And  find  a  quinsy  very  hard  to  treat ; 

Against  all  noble  maladies  he  's  bold, 
But  vulgar  illnesses  don't  like  to  meet, 

Nor  that  a  sneeze  should  interrupt  his  sigh, 

Nor  inflammations  redden  his  blind  eye. 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  87 

XXIII. 

But  worst  of  all  is  nausea,  or  a  pain 
About  the  lower  region  of  the  bowels ; 

Love,  who  heroically  breathes  a  vein,1 
Shrinks  from  the  application  of  hot  towels, 

And  purgatives  are  dangerous  to  his  reign, 
Sea-sickness  death  :  his  love  was  perfect,  how  else  '• 

Could  Juan's  passion,  while  the  billows  roar, 

Resist  his  stomach,  ne'er  at  sea  before  ? 

XXIV. 

The  ship,  called  the  most  holy  "  Trinidada," 8 
Was  steering  duly  for  the  port  Leghorn  j 

For  there  the  Spanish  family  Moncada 
Were  settled  long  ere  Juan's  sire  was  born  : 

They  were  relations,  and  for  them  he  had  a 
Letter  of  introduction,  which  the  morn 

Of  his  departure  had  been  sent  him  by 

His  Spanish  friends  for  those  in  Italy. 

XXV. 

His  suite  consisted  of  three  servants  and 

A  tutor,  the  licentiate  Pedrillo, 
Who  several  languages  did  understand, 

But  now  lay  sick  and  speechless  on  his  pillow 
And,  rocking  in  his  hammock,  longed  for  land, 

His  headache  being  increased  by  every  billow ; 
And  the  waves  oozing  through  the  port-hole  made 
His  berth  a  little  damp,  and  him  afraid. 

i.  Sea-sickness  death  ;  then  pardon  Juan — how  else 

Keep  down  his  stomach  ne'er  at  sea  before  f—[MS.  A/.] 

1.  ["To  breathe  a  vein  ...    to  lance  it  so    as  to  let  blood." 
Compare — 

' '  Rosalind.  Is  the  fool  sick  ? 
Biron.  Sick  at  heart. 
Ros.  Alack,  let  it  blood." 

Love's  Labour  s  Lost,  act  ii.  sc.  i,  line  185.] 

2.  ["With  regard  to  the  charges  about  the  Shipwreck,  I  think  that 
I  told  you  and  Mr.  Hobhouse,  years  ago,  that  there  was  not  a  single 
circumstance  of  it  not  taken  from  fact ;  not,  indeed,  from  any  single 
shipwreck,  but  all  from  actual  facts  of  different  wrecks." — Letter  to 
Murray,  August  23,  1821.    In  the  Monthly  Magazine,  vol.  liii.  (August, 
1821,  pp.  19-22,  and  September,  1821,  pp.  105-109),  Byron's  indebted- 
ness to  Sir  G.  Dalzell's  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea  (1812,  8vo)  is 
pointed  out,  and  the  parallel  passages  are  printed  in  full.] 


S8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

XXVI. 

'T  was  not  without  some  reason,  for  the  wind 

Increased  at  night,  until  it  blew  a  gale ; 
And  though  't  was  not  much  to  a  naval  mind, 

Some  landsmen  would  have  looked  a  little  pale, 
For  sailors  are,  in  fact,  a  different  kind : 

At  sunset  they  began  to  take  in  sail, 
For  the  sky  showed  it  would  come  on  to  blow, 
And  carry  away,  perhaps,  a  mast  or  so. 

XXVII. 

At  one  o'clock  the  wind  with  sudden  shift 

Threw  the  ship  right  into  the  trough  of  the  sea, 

Which  struck  her  aft,  and  made  an  awkward  rift, 
Started  the  stern-post,  also  shattered  the 

Whole  of  her  stern-frame,  and,  ere  she  could  lift 
Herself  from  out  her  present  jeopardy, 

The  rudder  tore  away  :  't  was  time  to  sound 

The  pumps,  and  there  were  four  feet  water  found. 

XXVIII. 

One  gang  of  people  instantly  was  put 

Upon  the  pumps,  and  the  remainder  set 
To  get  up  part  of  the  cargo,  and  what  not ; 

But  they  could  not  come  at  the  leak  as  yet ; 
At  last  they  did  get  at  it  really,  but 

Still  their  salvation  was  an  even  bet : 
The  water  rushed  through  in  a  way  quite  puzzling, 
While  they  thrust  sheets,  shirts,  jackets,  bales  of  muslin, 

XXIX. 

Into  the  opening  ;  but  all  such  ingredients 

Would  have  been  vain,  and  they  must  have  gone  down, 
Despite  of  all  their  efforts  and  expedients, 

But  for  the  pumps  :  I  'm  glad  to  make  them  known 
To  all  the  brother  tars  who  may  have  need  hence, 

For  fifty  tons  of  water  were  upthrown 
By  them  per  hour,  and  they  had  all  been  undone, 
But  for  the  maker,  Mr.  Mann,  of  London.1 

i.  ["  Night  came  on  worse  than  the  day  had  been ;  and  a  sudden 
shift  of  wind,  about  midnight,  threw  the  ship  into  the  trough  of  the  sea. 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  89 

XXX. 

As  day  advanced  the  weather  seemed  to  abate, 
And  then  the  leak  they  reckoned  to  reduce, 

And  keep  the  ship  afloat,  though  three  feet  yet 
Kept  two  hand — and  one  chain-pump  still  in  use. 

The  wind  blew  fresh  again  :  as  it  grew  late 

A  squall  came  on,  and  while  some  guns  broke  loose, 

A  gust — which  all  descriptive  power  transcends — 

Laid  with  one  blast  the  ship  on  her  beam  ends. 

XXXI. 

There  she  lay,  motionless,  and  seemed  upset ; 

The  water  left  the  hold,  and  washed  the  decks, 
And  made  a  scene  men  do  not  soon  forget ; 

For  they  remember  battles,  fires,  and  wrecks, 
Or  any  other  thing  that  brings  regret 

Or  breaks  their  hopes,  or  hearts,  or  heads,  or  necks  : 
Thus  drownings  are  much  talked  of  by  the  divers, 
And  swimmers,  who  may  chance  to  be  survivors. 

XXXII. 

Immediately  the  masts  were  cut  away, 

Both  main  and  mizen ;  first  the  mizen  went, 

The  main-mast  followed  :  but  the  ship  still  lay 
Like  a  mere  log,  and  baffled  our  intent. 

which  struck  her  aft,  tore  away  the  rudder,  started  the  stern-post,  and 
shattered  the  -whole  of  her  stern-frame.  The  pumps  were  immediately 
sounded,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes  the  water  had  increased  to 
fourfeet.  .  .  . 

"  One  gang  was  instantly  put  on  them,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
people  employed  in  getting  up  rice  from  the  run  of  the  ship,  and  heaving 
it  over,  to  come  at  the  leak,  if  possible.  After  three  or  four  hundred 
bags  were  thrown  into  the  sea,  we  did  get  at  it,  and  found  the  -water 
rushing  into  the  ship  with  astonishing  rapidity ;  therefore  we  thrust 
slieets,  shirts,  jackets,  bales  of  muslin,  and  everything  of  the  like  descrip- 
tion that  could  be  got,  into  the  opening. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  pumps  discharged  fifty  tons  of  water  an  hour, 
the  ship  certainly  must  have  gone  down,  had  not  our  expedients  been 
attended  with  some  success.  The  pumps,  to  the  excellent  construction 
of  which  I  owe  the  preservation  of  my  life,  were  made  by  Mr.  Mann  of 
London,  As  the  next  day  advanced,  the  weather  appeared  to  moderate, 
the  men  continued  incessantly  at  the  pumps,  and  every  exertion  was 
made  to  keep  the  ship  afloat." — See  "Loss  of  the  American  ship 
Hercules,  Captain  Benjamin  Stout,  June  16,  1796,"  Shipwrecks  and 
Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  316,  317.] 


9°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  11. 

Foremast  and  bowsprit  were  cut  down,  and  they 

Eased  her  at  last  (although  we  never  meant 
To  part  with  all  till  every  hope  was  blighted), 
And  then  with  violence  the  old  ship  righted.1 

XXXIII. 

It  may  be  easily  supposed,  while  this 

Was  going  on,  some  people  were  unquiet, 

That  passengers  would  find  it  much  amiss 
To  lose  their  lives,  as  well  as  spoil  their  diet ; 

That  even  the  able  seaman,  deeming  his 
Days  nearly  o'er,  might  be  disposed  to  riot, 

As  upon  such  occasions  tars  will  ask 

For  grog,  and  sometimes  drink  rum  from  the  cask. 

XXXIV. 

There  's  nought,  no  doubt,  so  much  the  spirit  calms 

As  rum  and  true  religion  :  thus  it  was, 
Some  plundered,  some  drank  spirits,  some  sung  psalms, 

The  high  wind  made  the  treble,  and  as  bass 
The  hoarse   harsh  waves   kept  time;    fright  cured   the 
qualms 

Of  all  the  luckless  landsmen's  sea-sick  maws  : 
Strange  sounds  of  wailing,  blasphemy,  devotion, 
Clamoured  in  chorus  to  the  roaring  Ocean. 

XXXV. 

Perhaps  more  mischief  had  been  done,  but  for  '• 
Our  Juan,  who,  with  sense  beyond  his  years, 

i.  Perhaps  the  whole  would  have  got  drunk,  but  for, — \_MS.~\ 

i.  ["Scarce  was  this  done,  when  a  gust,  exceeding  in  violence  every- 
thing of  the  kind  I  had  ever  seen,  or  could  conceive,  laid  the  ship  on 
her  beam  ends.  .  .  . 

"The  ship  lay  motionless,  and,  to  all  appearance,  irrevocably  over- 
set. .  .  .  The  water  forsook  the  hold,  and  appeared  between  decks.  .  .  . 

"  Immediate  directions  were  given  to  cut  away  the  main  and  mizen 
masts,  trusting  when  the  ship  righted,  to  be  able  to  wear  her.  On 
cutting  one  or  two  lanyards,  the  mizen-mast  went  first  over,  but  with- 
out producing  the  smallest  effect  on  the  ship,  and,  on  cutting  the 
lanyard  of  one  shroud,  the  main-mast  followed.  I  had  next  the  mortifi- 
cation to  see  the  foremast  and  bmusprit  also  go  over.  On  this,  the  ship 
immediately  righted  with  great  violence." — "  Loss  of  the  Centaur 
Man-of-War,  1782,  by  Captain  Inglefield,"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters 
at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  41.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  9! 

Got  to  the  spirit-room,  and  stood  before 

It  with  a  pair  of  pistols ; 1  and  their  fears, 
As  if  Death  were  more  dreadful  by  his  door 

Of  fire  than  water,  spite  of  oaths  and  tears, 
Kept  still  aloof  the  crew,  who,  ere  they  sunk, 
Thought  it  would  be  becoming  to  die  drunk. 

xxxvi. 
"  Give  us  more  grog,"  they  cried,  "  for  it  will  be 

All  one  an  hour  hence."     Juan  answered,  "  No  ! 
'T  is  true  that  Death  awaits  both  you  and  me, 

But  let  us  die  like  men,  not  sink  below 
Like  brutes  :  " — and  thus  his  dangerous  post  kept  he, 

And  none  liked  to  anticipate  the  blow ; 
And  even  Pedrillo,  his  most  reverend  tutor, 
Was  for  some  rum  a  disappointed  suitor. 

XXXVII. 

The  good  old  gentleman  was  quite  aghast, 
And  made  a  loud  and  pious  lamentation ; 

Repented  all  his  sins,  and  made  a  last 
Irrevocable  vow  of  reformation ; 

Nothing  should  tempt  him  more  (this  peril  past) 
To  quit  his  academic  occupation, 

In  cloisters  of  the  classic  Salamanca, 

To  follow  Juan's  wake,  like  Sancho  Panca. 

XXXVIII. 

But  now  there  came  a  flash  of  hope  once  more ; 

Day  broke,  and  the  wind  lulled :  the  masts  were  gone 
The  leak  increased ;  shoals  round  her,  but  no  shore, 

The  vessel  swam,  yet  still  she  held  her  own.2 

i.  ["A  midshipman  was  appointed  to  guard  the  spirit-room,  to 
repress  that  unhappy  desire  of  a  devoted  crew  to  die  in  a  state  of  in- 
toxication. The  sailors,  though  in  other  respects  orderly  in  conduct, 
here  pressed  eagerly  upon  him. 

"  '  Give  us  some  grog,'  they  exclaimed,  'it  will  be  all  one  an  hour 
hence.' — '/  know  we  must  die,'  replied  the  gallant  officer,  coolly,  '  6ut 
let  us  die  like  men  /' — Armed  with  a  brace  of  pistols,  he  kept  his  post, 
even  while  the  ship  was  sinking." — "  Loss  of  the  Earl  of  Abergavenny, 
February  5,  1805,"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  418.  John 
Wordsworth,  the  poet's  brother,  was  captain  of  the  Abergavenny. 
See  Life  of  William  Wordsworth,  by  Professor  Knight,  1889,  i.  370- 
380  ;  see,  too,  Coleridge's  Anima  Poetce,  1895,  p.  132.  For  a  contem- 
porary report,  see  a  Maltese  paper,  //  Cartaginense,  April  17,  1805.] 


rary  repoi 
2.  ["Hov 


2.  ["However,  by  great  exertions  of  the  chain-pumps,  we  held  our 


92  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

They  tried  the  pumps  again,  and  though  before 

Their  desperate  efforts  seemed  all  useless  grown, 
A  glimpse  of  sunshine  set  some  hands  to  bale — 
The  stronger  pumped,  the  weaker  thrummed  a  sail. 

XXXIX. 

Under  the  vessel's  keel  the  sail  was  passed, 
And  for  the  moment  it  had  some  effect ; 

But  with  a  leak,  and  not  a  stick  of  mast, 
Nor  rag  of  canvas,  what  could  they  expect  ? 

But  still 't  is  best  to  struggle  to  the  last, 
'T  is  never  too  late  to  be  wholly  wrecked  : 

And  though  't  is  true  that  man  can  only  die  once, 

'T  is  not  so  pleasant  in  the  Gulf  of  Lyons.'- 

XL. 
There  winds  and  waves  had  hurled  them,  and  from  thence, 

Without  their  will,  they  carried  them  away ; 
For  they  were  forced  with  steering  to  dispense, 

And  never  had  as  yet  a  quiet  day 
On  which  they  might  repose,  or  even  commence 

A  jurymast  or  rudder,  or  could  say 
The  ship  would  swim  an  hour,  which,  by  good  luck, 
Still  swam — though  not  exactly  like  a  duck. 

XLI. 
The  wind,  in  fact,  perhaps,  was  rather  less, 

But  the  ship  laboured  so,  they  scarce  could  hope 

i.  'T  is  ugly  dying  in  the  Gulf  of  Lyons, — [MS.] 

own.  .  .  .  All  who  were  not  seamen  by  profession,  had  been  employed 
in  thrumming  a  sail  which  was  passed  under  the  ship's  bottom,  and  I 
thought  had  some  effect.  .  .  . 

"  The  Centaur  laboured  so  much,  that  I  could  scarce  hope  she  would 
swim  till  morning :  .  .  .  our  sufferings  for  want  of  water  were  very 
great .... 

' '  The  weather  again  threatened,  and  by  noon  it  blew  a  storm.  The 
ship  laboured  greatly ;  the  water  appeared  in  the  fore  and  after-hold. 
I  was  informed  by  the  carpenter  also  that  the  leathers  were  nearly 
consumed,  and  the  chains  of  the  pumps,  by  constant  exertion,  and 
friction  of  the  coils,  were  rendered  almost  useless.  .  .  . 

"  At  this  period  the  carpenter  acquainted  me  that  the  well  was  stove 
in,  ...  and  the  chain-pumps  displaced  and  totally  useless.  .  .  . 
Seeing  their  efforts  useless,  many  of  them  [the  people]  burst  into  tears, 
and  wept  like  children.  .  .  . 

"  I  perceived  the  ship  settling  by  the  head." — "  Loss  of  the  Centaur," 
Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  pp.  45-49.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  93 

To  weather  out  much  longer ;  the  distress 
Was  also  great  with  which  they  had  to  cope 

For  want  of  water,  and  their  solid  mess 
Was  scant  enough  :  in  vain  the  telescope 

Was  used — nor  sail  nor  shore  appeared  in  sight, 

Nought  but  the  heavy  sea,  and  coming  night. 

XLII. 

Again  the  weather  threatened, — again  blew 

A  gale,  and  in  the  fore  and  after  hold 
Water  appeared ;  yet,  though  the  people  knew 

All  this,  the  most  were  patient,  and  some  bold, 
Until  the  chains  and  leathers  were  worn  through 

Of  all  our  pumps : — a  wreck  complete  she  rolled, 
At  mercy  of  the  waves,  whose  mercies  are 
Like  human  beings  during  civil  war. 

XLIII. 

Then  came  the  carpenter,  at  last,  with  tears 
In  his  rough  eyes,  and  told  the  captain,  he 

Could  do  no  more  :  he  was  a  man  in  years, 
And  long  had  voyaged  through  many  a  stormy  sea, 

And  if  he  wept  at  length  they  were  not  fears 
That  made  his  eyelids  as  a  woman's  be, 

But  he,  poor  fellow,  had  a  wife  and  children, — 

Two  things  for  dying  people  quite  bewildering. 

XLIV. 
The  ship  was  evidently  settling  now 

Fast  by  the  head ;  and,  all  distinction  gone, 
Some  went  to  prayers  again,  and  made  a  vow 

Of  candles  to  their  saints l — but  there  were  none 
To  pay  them  with ;  and  some  looked  o'er  the  bow ; 

Some  hoisted  out  the  boats ;  and  there  was  one 
That  begged  Pedrillo  for  an  absolution, 
Who  told  him  to  be  damned — in  his  confusion.2 

I.  [Byron  may  have  had  in  mind  the  story  of  the  half-inaudible  vow 
of  a  monster  wax  candle,  to  be  offered  to  St.  Christopher  of  Paris, 
which  Erasmus  tells  in  his  Naufragium.  The  passage  is  scored  with 
a  pencil-mark  in  his  copy  of  the  Colloquies.} 

z.  [Stanza  xliv.  recalls  Cardinal  de  Retz's  description  of  the  storm 
at  sea  in  the  Gulf  of  Lyons :  ' '  Everybody  were  at  their  prayers,  or 


94  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

XLV. 
Some  lashed  them  in  their  hammocks ;  some  put  on 

Their  best  clothes,  as  if  going  to  a  fair ; 
Some  cursed  the  day  on  which  they  saw  the  Sun, 

And  gnashed  their  teeth,  and,  howling,  tore  their  hair ; 
And  others  went  on  as  they  had  begun, 

Getting  the  boats  out,  being  well  aware 
That  a  tight  boat  will  live  in  a  rough  sea, 
Unless  with  breakers  close  beneath  her  lee.1 

XLVI. 
The  worst  of  all  was,  that  in  their  condition, 

Having  been  several  days  in  great  distress, 
'T  was  difficult  to  get  out  such  provision 

As  now  might  render  their  long  suffering  less  : 
Men,  even  when  dying,  dislike  inanition ; ' 

Their  stock  was  damaged  by  the  weather's  stress  : 
Two  casks  of  biscuit,  and  a  keg  of  butter, 
Were  all  that  could  be  thrown  into  the  cutter. 

XLV1I. 

But  in  the  long-boat  they  contrived  to  stow 
Some  pounds  of  bread,  though  injured  by  the  wet ; 

i.  Men  -will  prove  hungry,  even  when  next  perdition. — [MS.] 

were  confessing  themselves.  . .  .  The  private  captain  of  the  galley  caused, 
in  the  greatest  height  of  the  danger,  his  embroidered  coat  and  his  red 
scarf  to  be  brought  to  him,  saying,  that  a  true  Spaniard  ought  to  die 
bearing  his  King's  Marks  of  distinction.  He  sat  himself  down  in  a 
great  elbow  chair,  and  with  his  foot  struck  a  poor  Neapolitan  in  the 
chops,  who,  not  being  able  to  stand  upon  the  Coursey  of  the  Galley, 
was  crawling  along,  crying  out  aloud,  '  Sennor  Don  Fernando,  for 
tamor  de  Dios,  Confession.'  The  captain,  when  he  struck  him,  said  to 
him,  '  Inimigo  de  Dios  piedes  Confession  I  And  as  I  was  representing  to 
him,  that  his  inference  was  not  right,  he  said  that  that  old  man  gave 
offence  to  the  whole  galley.  You  can't  imagine  the  horror  of  a  great 
storm  ;  you  can  as  little  imagine  the  Ridicule  mixed  with  it.  A  Sicilian 
Observantine  monk  was  preaching  at  the  foot  of  the  great  mast,  that 
St.  Francis  had  appeared  to  him,  and  had  assured  him  that  we  should 
not  perish.  I  should  never  have  done,  should  I  undertake  to  describe 
all  the  ridiculous  frights  that  are  seen  on  these  occasions." — Memoirs 
of  Cardinal  de  Ketz,  1723,  iii.  353.] 

i.  ["Some  appeared  perfectly  resigned,  went  to  their  hammocks, 
and  desired  their  messmates  to  lash  them  in ;  others  were  securing 
themselves  to  gratings  and  small  rafts ;  but  the  most  predominant  idea 
was  that  of  putting  on  their  best  and  cleanest  clothes.  The  boats  .  .  . 
were  got  over  the  side." — "Loss  of  the  Centaur,"  Shipwrecks  and 
Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  49,  50.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  95 

Water,  a  twenty-gallon  cask  or  so  ; 

Six  flasks  of  wine  ;  and  they  contrived  to  get 
A  portion  of  their  beef  up  from  below,1 

And  with  a  piece  of  pork,  moreover,  met, 
But  scarce  enough  to  serve  them  for  a  luncheon  — 
Then  there  was  rum,  eight  gallons  in  a  puncheon. 

XLVIII. 
The  other  boats,  the  yawl  and  pinnace,  had 

Been  stove  in  the  beginning  of  the  gale  ;  2 
And  the  long-boat's  condition  was  but  bad, 

As  there  were  but  two  blankets  for  a  sail,3 
And  one  oar  for  a  mast,  which  a  young  lad 

Threw  in  by  good  luck  over  the  ship's  rail  ; 
And  two  boats  could  not  hold,  far  less  be  stored, 
To  save  one  half  the  people  then  on  board. 

XLIX. 
'T  was  twilight,  and  the  sunless  day  went  down 

Over  the  waste  of  waters  ;  like  a  veil, 
Which,  if  withdrawn,  would  but  disclose  the  frown  .'• 

Of  one  whose  hate  is  masked  but  to  assail. 
Thus  to  their  hopeless  eyes  the  night  was  shown, 

And  grimly  darkled  o'er  the  faces  pale, 
And  the  dim  desolate  deep  :  twelve  days  had  Fear  "• 
Been  their  familiar,  and  now  Death  was  here. 

L. 

Some  trial  had  been  making  at  a  raft, 
With  little  hope  in  such  a  rolling  sea, 

i.    Which  being  withdrawn,  discloses  but  the  frown.  —  [MS.  erased.] 
ii.   Of  one  who  hates  us,  so  the  night  was  shown 
And  grimly  darkled  o'er  their  faces  pale, 
And  hopeless  eyes,  which  o'er  the  deep  alone 
Gazed  dim  and  desolate  - 


1.  ["  Eight  bags  of  rice,  six  casks  of  water,  and  a  small  quantity  Oj 
salted  beef  and  pork,  were  put  into  the  long-boat,  as  provisions  for  the 
whole."  —  "Wreck  of  the  Sidney,  1806,"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at 
Sea,  1812,  iii.  434.] 

2.  ["The  yawl  was   stove   alongside  and    sunk."  —  "Loss  of  the 
Centaur,"  ibid.,  iii.  50.] 

3.  ["  One  oar  was  erected  for  a  main-mast,  and  the  other  broke  to  the 
breadth  of  the  blankets  for  a  yard."  —  "Loss  of  the  Duke   William 
Transport,  1758,"  ibid.,  ii.  387.] 


g6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

A  sort  of  thing  at  which  one  would  have  laughed,1 

If  any  laughter  at  such  times  could  be, 
Unless  with  people  who  too  much  have  quaffed, 

And  have  a  kind  of  wild  and  horrid  glee, 
Half  epileptical,  and  half  hysterical : — 
Their  preservation  would  have  been  a  miracle. 

LI. 
At  half-past  eight  o'clock,  booms,  hencoops,  spars, 

And  all  things,  for  a  chance,  had  been  cast  loose, 
That  still  could  keep  afloat  the  struggling  tars,'2 

For  yet  they  strove,  although  of  no  great  use  : 
There  was  no  light  in  heaven  but  a  few  stars, 

The  boats  put  off  o'ercrowded  with  their  crews  ; 
She  gave  a  heel,  and  then  a  lurch  to  port, 
And,  going  down  head  foremost — sunk,  in  short.3 

LII. 
Then  rose  from  sea  to  sky  the  wild  farewell — 

Then  shrieked  the  timid,  and  stood  still  the  brave, — 
Then  some  leaped  overboard  with  dreadful  yell,4 

As  eager  to  anticipate  their  grave ; 
And  the  sea  yawned  around  her  like  a  hell, 

And  down  she  sucked  with  her  the  whirling  wave, 
Like  one  who  grapples  with  his  enemy, 
And  strives  to  strangle  him  before  he  die. 

LIII. 

And  first  one  universal  shriek  there  rushed, 
Louder  than  the  loud  Ocean,  like  a  crash 

1.  ["As  rafts  had  been  mentioned  by  the  carpenter,  I  thought  it 
right  to  make  the  attempt.  ...  It  was  impossible  for  any  man  to  deceive 
himself  with  the  hopes  of  being  saved  on  a  raft  in  such  a  sea." — 
"  Loss  of  the  Centaur"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea,  1812.  iii. 

50.  51-] 

2.  ["Spars,  booms,  hencoops,  and  every  thing  buoyant,  was  therefore 
cast  loose,  that  the  men  might  have  some  chance  to  save  themselves." 
— "  Loss  of  the  Pandora,"  ibid.,  iii.  197.] 

3.  ["  We  had  scarce  quitted  the  ship,  when  she  gave  a  heavy  lurch 
to  port,  and  then  went  down,  head  foremost." — "  Loss  of  the  Lady 
Hobart,"  ibid.,  iii.  378.] 

4.  ["At  this  moment,  one  of  the  officers  told  the  captain  that  she 
was  going  down,  .  .  .  and  bidding  him  farewell,  leapt  overboard  :  .  .  . 
the  crew  had  just  time  to  leap  overboard,  which  they  did,  uttering  a  most 
dreadful  yell." — "  Loss  of  the  Pandora,"  ibid.,  iii.  198.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  97 

Of  echoing  thunder;  and  then  all  was  hushed, 
Save  the  wild  wind  and  the  remorseless  dash 

Of  billows ;  but  at  intervals  there  gushed, 
Accompanied  by  a  convulsive  splash, 

A  solitary  shriek,  the  bubbling  cry 

Of  some  strong  swimmer  in  his  agony. 

LIV. 
The  boats,  as  stated,  had  got  off  before, 

And  in  them  crowded  several  of  the  crew ; 
And  yet  their  present  hope  was  hardly  more 

Than  what  it  had  been,  for  so  strong  it  blew 
There  was  slight  chance  of  reaching  any  shore ; 

And  then  they  were  too  many,  though  so  few — 
Nine  in  the  cutter,  thirty  in  the  boat, 
Were  counted  in  them  when  they  got  afloat. 

LV. 
All  the  rest  perished ;  near  two  hundred  souls 

Had  left  their  bodies ;  and  what 's  worse,  alas  ! 
When  over  Catholics  the  Ocean  rolls, 

They  must  wait  several  weeks  before  a  mass 
Takes  off  one  peck  of  purgatorial  coals, 

Because,  till  people  know  what 's  come  to  pass, 
They  won't  lay  out  their  money  on  the  dead — 
It  costs  three  francs  for  every  mass  that 's  said. 

LVI. 
Juan  got  into  the  long-boat,  and  there 

Contrived  to  help  Pedrillo  to  a  place ; 
It  seemed  as  if  they  had  exchanged  their  care, 

For  Juan  wore  the  magisterial  face 
Which  courage  gives,  while  poor  Pedrillo's  pair 

Of  eyes  were  crying  for  their  owner's  case : 
Battista,  though,  (a  name  called  shortly  Tita), 
Was  lost  by  getting  at  some  aqua-vita. 

LVII. 
Pedro,  his  valet,  too,  he  tried  to  save, 

But  the  same  cause,  conducive  to  his  loss, 
Left  him  so  drunk,  he  jumped  into  the  wave, 

As  o'er  the  cutter's  edge  he  tried  to  cross, 

VOL.  VI.  H 


98  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

And  so  he  found  a  wine-and-watery  grave ; 

They  could  not  rescue  him  although  so  close, 
Because  the  sea  ran  higher  every  minute, 
And  for  the  boat — the  crew  kept  crowding  in  it. 

LVIII. 

A  small  old  spaniel, — which  had  been  Don  Josd's, 
His  father's,  whom  he  loved,  as  ye  may  think, 

For  on  such  things  the  memory  reposes 

With  tenderness — stood  howling  on  the  brink, 

Knowing,  (dogs  have  such  intellectual  noses  !) 
No  doubt,  the  vessel  was  about  to  sink ; 

And  Juan  caught  him  up,  and  ere  he  stepped 

Off  threw  him  in,  then  after  him  he  leaped.1 

LIX. 

He  also  stuffed  his  money  where  he  could 
About  his  person,  and  Pedrillo's  too, 

Who  let  him  do,  in  fact,  whate'er  he  would, 
Not  knowing  what  himself  to  say,  or  do, 

As  every  rising  wave  his  dread  renewed ; 
But  Juan,  trusting  they  might  still  get  through, 

And  deeming  there  were  remedies  for  any  ill, 

Thus  re-embarked  his  tutor  and  his  spaniel. 

LX. 

'T  was  a  rough  night,  and  blew  so  stiffly  yet, 
That  the  sail  was  becalmed  between  the  seas,2 

Though  on  the  wave's  high  top  too  much  to  set, 
They  dared  not  take  it  in  for  all  the  breeze : 

1.  ["The  boat,  being  fastened  to  the  rigging,  was  no  sooner  cleared 
of  the  greatest  part  of  the  water,  than  a  dog  of  mine  came  to  me 
running  along  the  gunwale.     /  took  him  in." — "Shipwreck  of  the 
Sloop  Betsy,  on  the  Coast  of  Dutch  Guiana,  August  5,  1756  (Philip 
Aubin,  Commander),"  Remarkable  Shipwrecks,  Hartford,  1813,  p.  175.] 

2.  [Qy.  ' '  My  good  Sir !   when  the  sea  runs  very  high  this  is  the 
case,  as  /  know,  but  if  my  authority  is  not  enough,  see  Bligh's  account 
of  his  run  to  Timor,  after  being  cut  adrift  by  the  mutineers  headed  by 
Christian."— {B.] 

"  Pray  tell  me  who  was  the  Lubber  who  put  the  query?  surely  not 
you,  Hobhouse  !  We  have  both  of  us  seen  too  much  of  the  sea  for  that. 
You  may  rely  on  my  using  no  nautical  word  not  founded  on  authority, 
and  no  circumstances  not  grounded  in  reality."] 


CANTO  II.]  DON  JUAN.  99 

Each  sea  curled  o'er  the  stern,  and  kept  them  wet, 
And  made  them  bale  without  a  moment's  ease,1 
So  that  themselves  as  well  as  hopes  were  damped, 
And  the  poor  little  cutter  quickly  swamped. 

LXI. 
Nine  souls  more  went  in  her  :  the  long-boat  still 

Kept  above  water,  with  an  oar  for  mast, 
Two  blankets  stitched  together,  answering  ill 

Instead  of  sail,  were  to  the  oar  made  fast ; 
Though  every  wave  rolled  menacing  to  fill, 

And  present  peril  all  before  surpassed,2 
They  grieved  for  those  who  perished  with  the  cutter, 
And  also  for  the  biscuit-casks  and  butter. 

LXII. 
The  sun  rose  red  and  fiery,  a  sure  sign 

Of  the  continuance  of  the  gale  :  to  run 
Before  the  sea  until  it  should  grow  fine, 

Was  all  that  for  the  present  could  be  done : 
A  few  tea-spoonfuls  of  their  rum  and  wine 

Were  served  out  to  the  people,  who  begun  3 
To  faint,  and  damaged  bread  wet  through  the  bags, 
And  most  of  them  had  little  clothes  but  rags. 

LXIII. 
They  counted  thirty,  crowded  in  a  space 

Which  left  scarce  room  for  motion  or  exertion ; 
They  did  their  best  to  modify  their  case, 

One  half  sate  up,  though  numbed  with  the  immersion, 

1.  ["  It  blew  a  violent  storm,  and  the  sea  ran  very  high,  so  that 
between  the  seas  the  sail  was  becalmed  ;  and  when  on  the  top  of  the 
sea,  it  was  too  much  to  have  set,  but  I  was  obliged  to  carry  it,  for  we 
were  now  in  very  imminent  danger  and  distress  ;  the  sea  curling  over  the 
stern  of  the  boat,  which  obliged  us  to  bale  -with  all  our  might." — A 
Narrative  of  the  Mutiny  of  the  Bounty,  by  William  Bligh,  1790,  p.  23.] 

2.  ["  Before  it  was  dark,  a  blanket  was  discovered  in  the  boat.    This 
was  immediately  bent  to  one  of  the  stretchers,  and  under  it,  as  a  sail, 
we  scudded  all  night,  in  expectation  of  being  swallowed  up  by  every 
•wave." — "Loss  of  the  Centaur,"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea, 
1812,  iii.  52.] 

3.  ["  The  sun  rose  very  fiery  and  red,  a  sure  indication  of  a  severe 
gale  of  -wind. — We  could  do  nothing  more  than  keep  before  the  sea. — 
/  now  served  a  tea-spoonful  of  rum  to  each  person,  .  .  .  with  a  quarter 
of  a  bread-fruit,  which  was  scarce  eatable,  for  dinner." — A  Narrative, 
etc.,  by  W.  Bligh,  1790,  pp.  23,  24.] 


TOO  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

While  t'  other  half  were  laid  down  in  their  place, 

At  watch  and  watch ;  thus,  shivering  like  the  tertian 
Ague  in  its  cold  fit,  they  filled  their  boat, 
With  nothing  but  the  sky  for  a  great  coat.1 

LXIV. 
'T  is  very  certain  the  desire  of  life 

Prolongs  it :  this  is  obvious  to  physicians, 
When  patients,  neither  plagued  with  friends  nor  wife, 

Survive  through  very  desperate  conditions, 
Because  they  still  can  hope,  nor  shines  the  knife 

Nor  shears  of  Atropos  before  their  visions  : 
Despair  of  all  recovery  spoils  longevity, 
And  makes  men's  misery  of  alarming  brevity. 

LXV. 
'T  is  said  that  persons  living  on  annuities 

Are  longer  lived  than  others, — God  knows  why, 
Unless  to  plague  the  grantors, — yet  so  true  it  is, 

That  some,  I  really  think,  do  never  die  : 
Of  any  creditors  the  worst  a  Jew  it  is, 

And  that 's  their  mode  of  furnishing  supply  : 
In  my  young  days  they  lent  me  cash  that  way, 
Which  I  found  very  troublesome  to  pay.2 

LXVI. 
'T  is  thus  with  people  in  an  open  boat, 

They  live  upon  the  love  of  Life,  and  bear 
More  than  can  be  believed,  or  even  thought, 

And  stand  like  rocks  the  tempest's  wear  and  tear ; 
And  hardship  still  has  been  the  sailor's  lot, 

Since  Noah's  ark  went  cruising  here  and  there  ; 
She  had  a  curious  crew  as  well  as  cargo, 
Like  the  first  old  Greek  privateer,  the  Argo. 

1.  ["  [As]  our  lodgings  were  very  miserable  and  confined,  I  had 
only  in  my  power  to  remedy  the  latter  defect,  by  putting  ourselves  at 
watch  and  watch;  so  that  one  half  always  sat  up,  while  the  other 
half  lay  down  on  the  boat's  bottom,  with  nothing  to  cover  us  but  the 
heavens." — A    Narrative  of  the  Mutiny  of  the  Bounty,  by  William 
Bligh,  1790,  p.  28.] 

2.  [For  Byron's  debts  to  Mrs.  Massingberd,  "Jew"  King,  etc.,  and 
for  money  raised  on  annuities,  see  Letters,  1898,  ii.  174,  note  2,  and 
letter   to   Hanson,   December  n,  1817,  Letters,   1900,  iv.  187,   "The 
list  of  annuities  sent  by  Mr.  Kinnaird,  including  Jews  and  Sawbridge, 
amounts  to  twelve  thousand  eight  hundred  and  some  odd  pounds."] 


CANTO  II.]  DON  JUAN.  IOI 

LXVII. 

But  man  is  a  carnivorous  production, 

And  must  have  meals,  at  least  one  meal  a  day ; 

He  cannot  live,  like  woodcocks,  upon  suction, 
But,  like  the  shark  and  tiger,  must  have  prey ; 

Although  his  anatomical  construction 
Bears  vegetables,  in  a  grumbling  way, 

Your  labouring  people  think,  beyond  all  question, 

Beef,  veal,  and  mutton,  better  for  digestion. 

LXVIII. 
And  thus  it  was  with  this  our  hapless  crew  ; 

For  on  the  third  day  there  came  on  a  calm, 
And  though  at  first  their  strength  it  might  renew, 

And  lying  on  their  weariness  like  balm, 
Lulled  them  like  turtles  sleeping  on  the  blue 

Of  Ocean,  when  they  woke  they  felt  a  qualm, 
And  fell  all  ravenously  on  their  provision, 
Instead  of  hoarding  it  with  due  precision. 

LXIX. 
The  consequence  was  easily  foreseen — 

They  ate  up  all  they  had,  and  drank  their  wine, 
In  spite  of  all  remonstrances,  and  then 

On  what,  in  fact,  next  day  were  they  to  dine  ? 
They  hoped  the  wind  would  rise,  these  foolish  men  ! 

And  carry  them  to  shore ;  these  hopes  were  fine, 
But  as  they  had  but  one  oar,  and  that  brittle, 
It  would  have  been  more  wise  to  save  their  victual. 

LXX. 
The  fourth  day  came,  but  not  a  breath  of  air, 

And  Ocean  slumbered  like  an  unweaned  child  : 
The  fifth  day,  and  their  boat  lay  floating  there, 

The  sea  and  sky  were  blue,  and  clear,  and  mild — 
With  their  one  oar  (I  wish  they  had  had  a  pair) 

What  could  they  do  ?  and  Hunger's  rage  grew  wild  : 
So  Juan's  spaniel,  spite  of  his  entreating, 
Was  killed,  and  portioned  out  for  present  eating.1 

i.  ["The  third  day  we  began  to  suffer  exceedingly  .  .  .  from  hunger 
and  thirst.    I  then  seized  my  dog,  and  plunged  the  knife  in  his  throat. 


io2  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

LXXI. 

On  the  sixth  day  they  fed  upon  his  hide, 
And  Juan,  who  had  still  refused,  because 

The  creature  was  his  father's  dog  that  died, 
Now  feeling  all  the  vulture  in  his  jaws, 

With  some  remorse  received  (though  first  denied) 
As  a  great  favour  one  of  the  fore-paws,1 

Which  he  divided  with  Pedrillo,  who 

Devoured  it,  longing  for  the  other  too. 

LXXII. 

The  seventh  day,  and  no  wind — the  burning  sun 
Blistered  and  scorched,  and,  stagnant  on  the  sea, 

They  lay  like  carcasses ;  and  hope  was  none, 
Save  in  the  breeze  that  came  not :  savagely 

They  glared  upon  each  other — all  was  done, 
Water,  and  wine,  and  food, — and  you  might  see 

The  longings  of  the  cannibal  arise 

(Although  they  spoke  not)  in  their  wolfish  eyes. 

LXXIII. 

At  length  one  whispered  his  companion,  who 
Whispered  another,  and  thus  it  went  round, 

And  then  into  a  hoarser  murmur  grew, 

An  ominous,  and  wild,  and  desperate  sound ; 

And  when  his  comrade's  thought  each  sufferer  knew, 
'T  was  but  his  own,  suppressed  till  now,  he  found  : 

And  out  they  spoke  of  lots  for  flesh  and  blood, 

And  who  should  die  to  be  his  fellow's  food. 

We  caught  his  blood  in  the  hat,  receiving  in  our  hands  and  drinking 
what  ran  over ;  we  afterwards  drank  in  turn  out  of  the  hat,  and  felt 
ourselves  refreshed." — "Shipwreck  of  the  Betsy,"  Remarkable  Ship- 
wrecks, Hartford,  1813,  p.  177.] 

i.  ["  One  day,  when  I  was  at  home  in  my  hut  with  my  Indian  dog, 
a  party  came  to  my  door,  and  told  me  their  necessities  were  such  that 
they  must  eat  the  creature  or  starve.  Though  their  plea  was  urgent,  I 
could  not  help  using  some  arguments  to  endeavour  to  dissuade  them 
from  killing  him,  as  his  faithful  services  and  fondness  deserved  it  at  my 
hands  ;  but,  without  weighing  my  arguments,  they  took  him  away  by 
force  and  killed  him.  .  .  .  Three  weeks  after  that  I  was  glad  to  make 
a  meal  of  his  paws  and  skin  which,  upon  recollecting  the  spot  where 
they  had  killed  him,  I  found  thrown  aside  and  rotten." — The  Narrative 
of  the  Honourable  J ohn  Byron,  etc.,  1768,  pp.  47,  48.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON  JUAN.  103 

LXXIV. 

But  ere  they  came  to  this,  they  that  day  shared 
Some  leathern  caps,  and  what  remained  of  shoes ; 

And  then  they  looked  around  them,  and  despaired, 
And  none  to  be  the  sacrifice  would  choose ; 

At  length  the  lots  were  torn  up,1  and  prepared, 
But  of  materials  that  must  shock  the  Muse — 

Having  no  paper,  for  the  want  of  better, 

They  took  by  force  from  Juan  Julia's  letter. 

LXXV. 
The  lots  were  made,  and  marked,  and  mixed,  and  handed, 

In  silent  horror,2  and  their  distribution 
Lulled  even  the  savage  hunger  which  demanded, 

Like  the  Promethean  vulture,  this  pollution  ; 
None  in  particular  had  sought  or  planned  it, 

'T  was  Nature  gnawed  them  to  this  resolution, 
By  which  none  were  permitted  to  be  neuter — 
And  the  lot  fell  on  Juan's  luckless  tutor. 

LXXVI.  * 
He  but  requested  to  be  bled  to  death : 

The  surgeon  had  his  instruments,  and  bled  3 
Pedrillo,  and  so  gently  ebbed  his  breath, 

You  hardly  could  perceive  when  he  was  dead. 

1.  [Being  driven  to  distress  for  want  of  food,  ' '  they  soaked  their 
shoes,  and  two  hairy  caps  in  water ;  and  when  sufficiently  softened  ate 
portions  of  the  leather."     But  day  after  day  having  passed,  and  the 
cravings  of  hunger  pressing  hard  upon  them,  they  fell  upon  the  horrible 
and  dreadful  expedient  of  eating  each  other  ;  and  in  order  to  prevent 
any  contention  about  who  should  become  the  food  of  the  others,  "they 
cast  lots  to  determine  the  sufferer." — ' '  Sufferings  of  the  Crew  of  the 
Thomas  [Twelve  Men  in  an  Open  Boat,  1797],"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters 
at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  356.] 

2.  ["  The  lots  were  drawn  :  '  the  captain,  summoning  all  his  strength, 
wrote  upon  slips  of  paper  the  name  of  each  man,  folded  them  up,  put 
them  into  a  hat,  and  shook  them  together.     The  crew,  meanwhile, 
preserved  an  awful  silence  ;  each  eye  was  fixed  and  each  mouth  open, 
while  terror  was  strongly  impressed  upon  every  countenance.'     The 
unhappy  person,  with  manly  fortitude,  resigned  himself  to  his  miserable 
associates." — "  Famine  in  the  American  Ship  Peggy,  1765,"  Remarkable 
Shipwrecks,  Hartford,  1813,  pp.  358,  359.] 

3.  ["  He  requested  to  be  bled  to  death,  the  surgeon  being  with  them, 
and  having  his  case  of  instruments  in  his  pocket  when  he  quitted  the 
vessel." — "Sufferings  of  the  Crew  of  the  Thomas"  Shipwrecks,  etc., 
1812,  iii.  357.] 


104  °ON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

He  died  as  born,  a  Catholic  in  faith, 

Like  most  in  the  belief  in  which  they  're  bred, 
And  first  a  little  crucifix  he  kissed, 
And  then  held  out  his  jugular  and  wrist. 

LXXVII. 
The  surgeon,  as  there  was  no  other  fee, 

Had  his  first  choice  of  morsels  for  his  pains ; 
But  being  thirstiest  at  the  moment,  he 

Preferred  a  draught  from  the  fast-flowing  veins  : 1 
Part  was  divided,  part  thrown  in  the  sea, 

And  such  things  as  the  entrails  and  the  brains 
Regaled  two  sharks,  who  followed  o'er  the  billow — 
The  sailors  ate  the  rest  of  poor  Pedrillo. 

LXXVIII. 
The  sailors  ate  him,  all  save  three  or  four, 

Who  were  not  quite  so  fond  of  animal  food ; 
To  these  was  added  Juan,  who,  before 

Refusing  his  own  spaniel,  hardly  could 
Feel  now  his  appetite  increased  much  more ; 

'T  was  not  to  be  expected  that  he  should, 
Even  in  extremity  of  their  disaster, 
Dine  with  them  on  his  pastor  and  his  master. 

LXXIX. 
'T  was  better  that  he  did  not ;  for,  in  fact, 

The  consequence  was  awful  in  the  extreme ; 
For  they,  who  were  most  ravenous  in  the  act, 

Went  raging  mad  2 — Lord  !  how  they  did  blaspheme ! 
And  foam,  and  roll,  with  strange  convulsions  racked, 

Drinking  salt-water  like  a  mountain-stream, 
Tearing,  and  grinning,  howling,  screeching,  swearing, 
And,  with  hyaena-laughter,  died  despairing. 

LXXX. 

Their  numbers  were  much  thinned  by  this  infliction, 
And  all  the  rest  were  thin  enough,  Heaven  knows ; 

1.  ["Yet  scarce  was  the  vein  divided  when  the  operator,  applying  his 
own  parched   lips,  drank  the  stream  as  it  flowed,   and  his  comrades 
anxiously  watched  the  last  breath  of  the  victim,  that  they  might  prey 
upon  his  flesh. " — Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  357.] 

2.  ["Those  who  indulged  their  cannibal  appetite  to  excess  speedily 
perished  in  raging  madness,"  etc. — lbidl\ 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  10$ 

And  some  of  them  had  lost  their  recollection, 

Happier  than  they  who  still  perceived  their  woes ; 

But  others  pondered  on  a  new  dissection, 
As  if  not  warned  sufficiently  by  those 

Who  had  already  perished,  suffering  madly, 

For  having  used  their  appetites  so  sadly. 

LXXXI. 
And  next  they  thought  upon  the  master's  mate, 

As  fattest ;  but  he  saved  himself,  because, 
Besides  being  much  averse  from  such  a  fate, 

There  were  some  other  reasons  :  the  first  was, 
He  had  been  rather  indisposed  of  late ; 

And — that  which  chiefly  proved  his  saving  clause — 
Was  a  small  present  made  to  him  at  Cadiz, 
By  general  subscription  of  the  ladies. 

LXXXII. 
Of  poor  Pedrillo  something  still  remained, 

But  was  used  sparingly, — some  were  afraid, 
And  others  still  their  appetites  constrained, 

Or  but  at  times  a  little  supper  made ; 
All  except  Juan,  who  throughout  abstained, 

Chewing  a  piece  of  bamboo,  and  some  lead  : l 
At  length  they  caught  two  Boobies,  and  a  Noddy,2 
And  then  they  left  off  eating  the  dead  body. 

LXXXIII. 
And  if  Pedrillo's  fate  should  shocking  be, 

Remember  Ugolino  3  condescends 
To  eat  the  head  of  his  arch-enemy 

The  moment  after  he  politely  ends 

1.  ["Another  expedient  we  had  frequent  recourse  to,  on  finding  it  sup- 
plied our  mouths  with  temporary  moisture,  was  chewing  any  substance 
we  could  find,  generally  a  bit  of  canvas,  or  even  lead," — "The  Ship- 
wreck of  the  Juno  on   the  Coast  of  Aracan,"  1795,  Shipwrecks  and 
Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  270.] 

2.  ["At  noon,  some  noddies  came  so  near  to  us  that  one  of  them 
was  caught  by  hand.  ...  I  divided  it  into  eighteen  portions.     In  the 
evening  we  saw  several  bocbies." — A  Narrative  of  the  Mutiny  of  the 
Bounty,  by  William  Bligh,  1790,  p.  41.] 

3.  ["Quand1  ebbe  detto  cio,  con  gli  occhi  torti 

Riprese  il  teschio  misero  coi  denti, 
Che  furo  all'  osso,  come  d'un  can  forti." 

Dante,  Inferno,  canto  xxxiii.  lines  76-78.] 


106  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

His  tale :  if  foes  be  food  in  Hell,  at  sea 

'T  is  surely  fair  to  dine  upon  our  friends, 
When  Shipwreck's  short  allowance  grows  too  scanty, 
Without  being  much  more  horrible  than  Dante. 

LXXXIV. 
And  the  same  night  there  fell  a  shower  of  rain, 

For  which  their  mouths  gaped,  like  the  cracks  of  earth 
When  dried  to  summer  dust ;  till  taught  by  pain, 

Men  really  know  not  what  good  water  's  worth ; 
If  you  had  been  in  Turkey  or  in  Spain, 

Or  with  a  famished  boat's-crew  had  your  berth, 
Or  in  the  desert  heard  the  camel's  bell, 
You  'd  wish  yourself  where  Truth  is — in  a  well. 

LXXXV. 
It  poured  down  torrents,  but  they  were  no  richer 

Until  they  found  a  ragged  piece  of  sheet, 
Which  served  them  as  a  sort  of  spongy  pitcher, 

And  when  they  deemed  its  moisture  was  complete, 
They  wrung  it  out,  and  though  a  thirsty  ditcher l 

Might  not  have  thought  the  scanty  draught  so  sweet 
As  a  full  pot  of  porter,  to  their  thinking 
They  ne'er  till  now  had  known  the  joys  of  drinking. 

LXXXVI. 
And  their  baked  lips,  with  many  a  bloody  crack,2 

Sucked  in  the  moisture,  which  like  nectar  streamed ; 
Their  throats   were   ovens,   their  swoln   tongues   were 
black, 

As  the  rich  man's  in  Hell,  who  vainly  screamed 
To  beg  the  beggar,  who  could  not  rain  back 

A  drop  of  dew,  when  every  drop  had  seemed 
To  taste  of  Heaven — If  this  be  true,  indeed, 
Some  Christians  have  a  comfortable  creed. 

1.  ["Whenever  a  heavy  shower  afforded  us  a  few  mouthfuls  of  fresh 
water,  either  by  catching  the  drops  as  they  fell  or  by  squeezing  them 
out  of  our  clothes,  it  infused  new  life  and  vigour  into  us,  and  for  a  while 
we  had  almost  forgot  !our  misery." — Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea, 
1812,  iii.  270.    Compare  The  Island,  Canto  I.  stanza  ix.  lines  193,  194, 
Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  595.] 

2.  [Compare — 

"  With  throats  unslaked,  with  black  lips  baked." 

Ancient  Mariner,  Part  III.  line  157.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON  JUAN.  1 07 

LXXXVII. 

There  were  two  fathers  in  this  ghastly  crew, 

And  with  them  their  two  sons,  of  whom  the  one 

Was  more  robust  and  hardy  to  the  view, 
But  he  died  early ;  and  when  he  was  gone, 

His  nearest  messmate  told  his  sire,  who  threw 

One  glance  at  him,  and  said,  "  Heaven's  will  be  done  ! 

I  can  do  nothing,"  and  he  saw  him  thrown 

Into  the  deep  without  a  tear  or  groan.1 

LXXXVIII. 
The  other  father  had  a  weaklier  child, 

Of  a  soft  cheek,  and  aspect  delicate ; 2 
But  the  boy  bore  up  long,  and  with  a  mild 

And  patient  spirit  held  aloof  his  fate  ; 
Little  he  said,  and  now  and  then  he  smiled, 

As  if  to  win  a  part  from  off  the  weight 
He  saw  increasing  on  his  father's  heart, 
With  the  deep  deadly  thought,  that  they  must  part. 

LXXXIX. 
And  o'er  him  bent  his  sire,  and  never  raised 

His  eyes  from  off  his  face,  but  wiped  the  foam 
From  his  pale  lips,  and  ever  on  him  gazed, 

And  when  the  wished-for  shower  at  length  was  come, 
And  the  boy's  eyes,  which  the  dull  film  half  glazed, 

Brightened,  and  for  a  moment  seemed  to  roam, 
He  squeezed  from  out  a  rag  some  drops  of  rain 
Into  his  dying  child's  mouth — but  in  vain.3 

1.  ["Mr.  Wade's  boy,  a  stout  liealthy  lad,  died  early,  and  almost 
without  a  groan;    while  another,   of  the  same  age,   but  of  a  less 
promising  appearance,  held  out  much  longer.     Their  fathers  were  both 
in  the  fore-top,  when  the  boys  were  taken  ill.     [Wade],  hearing  of  his 
son's  illness,  answered,  with  indifference,  that  he  could  do  nothing  for 
him,  and  left  him  to  his  fate." — "  Narrative  of  the  Shipwreck  of  the 
Juno,  1795,"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  273.] 

2.  ["  The  other  [father]  hurried  down.  ...  By  that  time  only  three 
or  four  planks  of  the  quarter-deck  remained,  just   over  the  quarter 
gallery.     To  this  spot  the  unhappy  man  led  his  son,  making  him  fast 
to  the  rail,  to  prevent  his  being  washed  away." — Ibid.~\ 

3.  ["Whenever  the  boy  was  seized  with  a  fit  of  retching,  the  father 
lifted  him  up  and  wiped  away  the  foam  from  his  lips  ;  and  if  a  shower 
came,  he  made  him  open  his  mouth  to  receive  the  drops,  or  gently 
squeezed  them  into  it  from  a  rag." — Ibid.~\ 


io8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

xc. 
The  boy  expired — the  father  held  the  clay, 

And  looked  upon  it  long,  and  when  at  last 
Death  left  no  doubt,  and  the  dead  burthen  lay 

Stiff  on  his  heart,  and  pulse  and  hope  were  past, 
He  watched  it  wistfully,  until  away 

'T  was  borne  by  the  rude  wave  wherein  't  was  cast ; : 
Then  he  himself  sunk  down  all  dumb  and  shivering, 
And  gave  no  sign  of  life,  save  his  limbs  quivering. 

xci. 
Now  overhead  a  rainbow,  bursting  through 

The  scattering  clouds,  shone,  spanning  the  dark  sea, 
Resting  its  bright  base  on  the  quivering  blue ; 

And  all  within  its  arch  appeared  to  be 
Clearer  than  that  without,  and  its  wide  hue 

Waxed  broad  and  waving,  like  a  banner  free, 
Then  changed  like  to  a  bow  that 's  bent,  and  then 
Forsook  the  dim  eyes  of  these  shipwrecked  men. 

xcn. 
It  changed,  of  course ;  a  heavenly  Chameleon, 

The  airy  child  of  vapour  and  the  sun, 
Brought  forth  in  purple,  cradled  in  vermilion, 

Baptized  in  molten  gold,  and  swathed  in  dun, 
Glittering  like  crescents  o'er  a  Turk's  pavilion, 

And  blending  every  colour  into  one, 
Just  like  a  black  eye  in  a  recent  scuffle 
(For  sometimes  we  must  box  without  the  muffle). 

XCIII. 

Our  shipwrecked  seamen  thought  it  a  good  omen — 

It  is  as  well  to  think  so,  now  and  then  ; 
'T  was  an  old  custom  of  the  Greek  and  Roman, 

And  may  become  of  great  advantage  when 

I.  ["In  this  affecting  situation  both  remained  four  or  five  days,  till 
the  boy  expired.  The  unfortunate  parent,  as  if  unwilling  to  believe  the 
fact,  raised  the  body,  looked  -wistfully  at  it,  and  when  he  could  no 
longer  entertain  any  doubt,  watched  it  in  silence  until  it  was  carried  off 
by  sea;  then  wrapping  himself  in  a  piece  of  canvas,  sunk  down,  and 
rose  no  more ;  though  he  must  have  lived  two  days  longer,  as  we  judged 
from  the  quivering  of  his  limbs  when  a  wave  broke  over  him." — 
"Narrative  of  the  Shipwreck  of  the  Juno,  1795,"  Shipwrecks  and 
Disasters  at  Sea,  p.  274.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  1 09 

Folks  are  discouraged ;  and  most  surely  no  men 

Had  greater  need  to  nerve  themselves  again 
Than  these,  and  so  this  rainbow  looked  like  Hope — 
Quite  a  celestial  Kaleidoscope. 

xciv. 
About  this  time  a  beautiful  white  bird, 

Webfooted,  not  unlike  a  dove  in  size 
And  plumage  (probably  it  might  have  erred 

Upon  its  course),  passed  oft  before  their  eyes, 
And  tried  to  perch,  although  it  saw  and  heard 

The  men  within  the  boat,  and  in  this  guise 
It  came  and  went,  and  fluttered  round  them  till 
Night  fell : — this  seemed  a  better  omen  still.1 

xcv. 
But  in  this  case  I  also  must  remark, 

'T  was  well  this  bird  of  promise  did  not  perch, 
Because  the  tackle  of  our  shattered  bark 

Was  not  so  safe  for  roosting  as  a  church ; 
And  had  it  been  the  dove  from  Noah's  ark, 

Returning  there  from  her  successful  search, 
Which  in  their  way  that  moment  chanced  to  fall, 
They  would  have  eat  her,  olive-branch  and  all. 

xcvi. 
With  twilight  it  again  came  on  to  blow, 

But  not  with  violence ;  the  stars  shone  out, 
The  boat  made  way ;  yet  now  they  were  so  low, 

They  knew  not  where  nor  what  they  were  about ; 
Some  fancied  they  saw  land,  and  some  said  "  No  ! " 

The  frequent  fog-banks  gave  them  cause  to  doubt — 
Some  swore  that  they  heard  breakers,  others  guns,2 
And  all  mistook  about  the  latter  once. 

1.  ["About  this  time  a  beautiful  white  bird,   web-footed,  and  not 
unlike  a  dove  in  size  and  plumage,  hovered  over  the  mast-head  of  the 
cutter,    and,    notwithstanding  the   pitching    of    the    boat,    frequently 
attempted  to  perch  on   it,  and  continued  fluttering  there  till  dark. 
Trifling   as   such   an   incident    may  appear,    we  all   considered   it  a 
propitious  omen." — "  Loss  of  the  Lady  Hobart,  1803,"  Shipwrecks  and 
Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  389.] 

2.  ["I  found  it  necessary  to  caution  the  people  against  being  deceived 
by  the  appearance  of  land,  or  calling  out  till  we  were  quite  convinced  of 


no  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

xcvu. 
As  morning  broke,  the  light  wind  died  away, 

When  he  who  had  the  watch  sung  out  and  swore, 
If 't  was  not  land  that  rose  with  the  Sun's  ray, 

He  wished  that  land  he  never  might  see  more ; l 
And  the  rest  rubbed  their  eyes  and  saw  a  bay, 

Or  thought  they  saw,  and  shaped   their  course   for 

shore ; 

For  shore  it  was,  and  gradually  grew 
Distinct,  and  high,  and  palpable  to  view. 

XCVIII. 

And  then  of  these  some  part  burst  into  tears, 
And  others,  looking  with  a  stupid  stare,2 

Could  not  yet  separate  their  hopes  from  fears, 
And  seemed  as  if  they  had  no  further  care ; 

While  a  few  prayed — (the  first  time  for  some  years) — 
And  at  the  bottom  of  the  boat  three  were 

Asleep  :  they  shook  them  by  the  hand  and  head, 

And  tried  to  awaken  them,  but  found  them  dead. 

xcix. 
The  day  before,  fast  sleeping  on  the  water, 

They  found  a  turtle  of  the  hawk's-bill  kind, 
And  by  good  fortune,  gliding  softly,  caught  her,3 

Which  yielded  a  day's  life,  and  to  their  mind 

its  reality,  more  especially  as  fog-banks  are  often  mistaken  for  land  : 
several  of  the  poor  fellows  nevertheless  repeatedly  exclaimed  they 
heard  breakers,  and  some  the  firing  of  guns." — "  Loss  of  the  Lady 
Hobart,"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  391.] 

1.  ['  'At  length  one  of  them  broke  out  into  a  most  immoderate  swearing 
fit  of  joy,  which  I  could  not  restrain,  and  declared,  that  he  had  never 
seen  land  in  his  life,  if  what  he  now  saw  was  not  so." — "Loss  of 
the  Centaur,"  ibid.,  p.  55.] 

2.  ["The  joy  at  a  speedy  relief  affected  us  all  in  a  most  remarkable 
way.     Many  burst  into  tears ;  some  looked  at  each  other  -with  a  stupid 
stare,  as  if  doubtful  of  the  reality  of  what  they  saw ;  while  several  were 
in  such  a  lethargic  condition,  that  no  animating  words  could  rouse 
them  to  exertion.    At  this  affecting  period,  I  proposed  offering  up  our 
solemn  thanks  to  Heaven  for  the  miraculous  deliverance." — "  Loss  of 
the  Lady  Hobart,"  ibid.,  p.  391.] 

3.  [After  having  suffered  the  horrors  of  hunger  and  thirst  for  many 
days,  "  they  accidentally  descried  a  small  turtle  floating  on  the  surface 
of  the  water  asleep." — "Sufferings  of  the  Crew  of  the  Thomas,"  ibid., 
P-  356-l 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  Ill 

Proved  even  still  a  more  nutritious  matter, 

Because  it  left  encouragement  behind  : 
They  thought  that  in  such  perils,  more  than  chance 
Had  sent  them  this  for  their  deliverance. 

c. 

The  land  appeared  a  high  and  rocky  coast, 
And  higher  grew  the  mountains  as  they  drew, 

Set  by  a  current,  toward  it :  they  were  lost 
In  various  conjectures,  for  none  knew 

To  what  part  of  the  earth  they  had  been  tost, 
So  changeable  had  been  the  winds  that  blew ; 

Some  thought  it  was  Mount  y£tna,  some  the  highlands 

Of  Candia,  Cyprus,  Rhodes,  or  other  islands. 

ci. 

Meantime  the  current,  with  a  rising  gale, 
Still  set  them  onwards  to  the  welcome  shore, 

Like  Charon's  bark  of  spectres,  dull  and  pale  : 
Their  living  freight  was  now  reduced  to  four, 

And  three  dead,  whom  their  strength  could  not  avail 
To  heave  into  the  deep  with  those  before, 

Though  the  two  sharks  still  followed  them,  and  dashed 

The  spray  into  their  faces  as  they  splashed. 

en. 
Famine — despair — cold — thirst  and  heat,  had  done 

Their  work  on  them  by  turns,  and  thinned  them  to 
Such  things  a  mother  had  not  known  her  son 

Amidst  the  skeletons  of  that  gaunt  crew ; l 
By  night  chilled,  by  day  scorched,  thus  one  by  one 

They  perished,  until  withered  to  these  few, 
But  chiefly  by  a  species  of  self-slaughter, 
In  washing  down  Pedrillo  with  salt  water. 

i.  ["An  indifferent  spectator  would  have  been  at  a  loss  which  most 
to  admire ;  the  eyes  of  famine  sparkling  at  immediate  relief,  or  the 
horror  of  their  preservers  at  the  sight  of  so  many  spectres,  whose 
ghastly  countenances,  if  the  cause  had  been  unknown,  would  rather 
have  excited  terror  than  pity.  Our  bodies  were  nothing  but  skin 
and  bones,  our  limbs  were  full  of  sores,  and  we  were  clothed  in  rags." — 
Narrative  of  the  Mutiny  of  the  Bounty,  by  William  Bligh,  1790,  p.  80. 
Compare  The  Siege  of  Corinth,  lines  1048, 1049,  Poetical  Works,  1900, 
iii.  494,  note  3.] 


1 12  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

GUI. 

As  they  drew  nigh  the  land,  which  now  was  seen 

Unequal  in  its  aspect  here  and  there, 
They  felt  the  freshness  of  its  growing  green, 

That  waved  in  forest-tops,  and  smoothed  the  air, 
And  fell  upon  their  glazed  eyes  like  a  screen 

From  glistening  waves,  and  skies  so  hot  and  bare — 
Lovely  seemed  any  object  that  should  sweep 
Away  the  vast — salt— dread — eternal  Deep. 

civ. 
The  shore  looked  wild,  without  a  trace  of  man, 

And  girt  by  formidable  waves ;  but  they 
Were  mad  for  land,  and  thus  their  course  they  ran, 

Though  right  ahead  the  roaring  breakers  lay : 
A  reef  between  them  also  now  began 

To  show  its  boiling  surf  and  bounding  spray, 
But  finding  no  place  for  their  landing  better, 
They  ran  the  boat  for  shore, — and  overset  her.1 

cv. 

But  in  his  native  stream,  the  Guadalquivir, 
Juan  to  lave  his  youthful  limbs  was  wont ; 

And  having  learnt  to  swim  in  that  sweet  river, 
Had  often  turned  the  art  to  some  account : 

A  better  swimmer  you  could  scarce  see  ever, 
He  could,  perhaps,  have  passed  the  Hellespont, 

As  once  (a  feat  on  which  ourselves  we  prided) 

Leander,  Mr.  Ekenhead,  and  I  did.2 

cvi. 

So  here,  though  faint,  emaciated,  and  stark, 
He  buoyed  his  boyish  limbs,  and  strove  to  ply 

With  the  quick  wave,  and  gain,  ere  it  was  dark, 
The  beach  which  lay  before  him,  high  and  dry  : 

1.  ["They  discovered  land  right  ahead,  and  steered  for  it.     There 
being  a  very  heavy  sur/.ihey  endeavoured  to  turn  the  boat's  head  to  it, 
which,  from  weakness,  they  were  unable  to  accomplish,  and  soon  after- 
wards Hie  boat  upset"—"  Sufferings  of  Six  Deserters  from  St.  Helena, 
1799,"  Shipwrecks  and  Disasters  at  Sea,  1812,  iii.  371.] 

2.  [Compare  lines  "Written  after  swimming  from  Sestos  to  Abydos," 
Poetical  Works,  1900,  iii.  13,  note  i ;  see,  too,  Letters,  1898,  i.  262,  263, 
note  i.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  113 

The  greatest  danger  here  was  from  a  shark, 

That  carried  off  his  neighbour  by  the  thigh ; 
As  for  the  other  two,  they  could  not  swim, 
So  nobody  arrived  on  shore  but  him. 

cvn. 
Nor  yet  had  he  arrived  but  for  the  oar, 

Which,  providentially  for  him,  was  washed 
Just  as  his  feeble  arms  could  strike  no  more, 

And  the  hard  wave  o'erwhelmed  him  as  't  was  dashed 
Within  his  grasp ;  he  clung  to  it,  and  sore 

The  waters  beat  while  he  thereto  was  lashed ; 
At  last,  with  swimming,  wading,  scrambling,  he 
Rolled  on  the  beach,  half-senseless,  from  the  sea  : 

cvin. 
There,  breathless,  with  his  digging  nails  he  clung 

Fast  to  the  sand,  lest  the  returning  wave, 
From  whose  reluctant  roar  his  life  he  wrung, 

Should  suck  him  back  to  her  insatiate  grave  : 
And  there  he  lay,  full  length,  where  he  was  flung, 

Before  the  entrance  of  a  cliff-worn  cave, 
With  just  enough  of  life  to  feel  its  pain, 
And  deem  that  it  was  saved,  perhaps,  in  vain. 

cix. 

With  slow  and  staggering  effort  he  arose, 

But  sunk  again  upon  his  bleeding  knee 
And  quivering  hand ;  and  then  he  looked  for  those 

Who  long  had  been  his  mates  upon  the  sea ; 
But  none  of  them  appeared  to  share  his  woes, 

Save  one,  a  corpse,  from  out  the  famished  three, 
Who  died  two  days  before,  and  now  had  found 
An  unknown  barren  beach  for  burial  ground. 

ex. 

And  as  he  gazed,  his  dizzy  brain  spun  fast, 
And  down  he  sunk  ;  and  as  he  sunk,  the  sand 

Swam  round  and  round,  and  all  his  senses  passed  : 
He  fell  upon  his  side,  and  his  stretched  hand 

Drooped  dripping  on  the  oar  (their  jury-mast), 
And,  like  a  withered  lily,  on  the  land 

VOL.  VI.  I 


H4  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

His  slender  frame  and  pallid  aspect  lay, 
As  fair  a  thing  as  e'er  was  formed  of  clay. 

CXI. 

How  long  in  his  damp  trance  young  Juan  lay l 
He  knew  not,  for  the  earth  was  gone  for  him, 

And  Time  had  nothing  more  of  night  nor  day 
For  his  congealing  blood,  and  senses  dim  ; 

And  how  this  heavy  faintness  passed  away 
He  knew  not,  till  each  painful  pulse  and  limb, 

And  tingling  vein,  seemed  throbbing  back  to  life, 

For  Death,  though  vanquished,  still  retired  with  strife. 

cxn. 
His  eyes  he  opened,  shut,  again  unclosed, 

For  all  was  doubt  and  dizziness  ;  he  thought 
He  still  was  in  the  boat,  and  had  but  dozed, 

And  felt  again  with  his  despair  o'erwrought, 
And  wished  it  Death  in  which  he  had  reposed, 

And  then  once  more  his  feelings  back  were  brought, 
And  slowly  by  his  swimming  eyes  was  seen 
A  lovely  female  face  of  seventeen. 

CXIII. 

'T  was  bending  close  o'er  his,  and  the  small  mouth 
Seemed  almost  prying  into  his  for  breath ; 

And  chafing  him,  the  soft  warm  hand  of  youth 
Recalled  his  answering  spirits  back  from  Death  : 

And,  bathing  his  chill  temples,  tried  to  soothe 
Each  pulse  to  animation,  till  beneath 

Its  gentle  touch  and  trembling  care,  a  sigh 

To  these  kind  efforts  made  a  low  reply. 

cxiv. 
Then  was  the  cordial  poured,  and  mantle  flung 

Around  his  scarce-clad  limbs  ;  and  the  fair  arm 
Raised  higher  the  faint  head  which  o'er  it  hung  ; 

And  her  transparent  cheek,  all  pure  and  warm, 

i.  [Compare — 

"  How  long  in  that  same  fit  I  lay 

I  have  not  to  declare." 
The  Ancient  Mariner,  Part  V.  lines  393,  394.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  I  15 

Pillowed  his  death-like  forehead ;  then  she  wrung 
His  dewy  curls,  long  drenched  by  every  storm  ; 
And  watched  with  eagerness  each  throb  that  drew 
A  sigh  from  his  heaved  bosom — and  hers,  too. 

cxv. 
And  lifting  him  with  care  into  the  cave, 

The  gentle  girl,  and  her  attendant, — one 
Young,  yet  her  elder,  and  of  brow  less  grave, 

And  more  robust  of  figure, — then  begun 
To  kindle  fire,  and  as  the  new  flames  gave 

Light  to  the  rocks  that  roofed  them,  which  the  sun 
Had  never  seen,  the  maid,  or  whatsoe'er 
She  was,  appeared  distinct,  and  tall,  and  fair. 

cxvi. 
Her  brow  was  overhung  with  coins  of  gold, 

That  sparkled  o'er  the  auburn  of  her  hair — 
Her  clustering  hair,  whose  longer  locks  were  rolled 

In  braids  behind ;  and  though  her  stature  were 
Even  of  the  highest  for  a  female  mould, 

They  nearly  reached  her  heel ;  and  in  her  air 
There  was  a  something  which  bespoke  command, 
As  one  who  was  a  Lady  in  the  land. 

CXVII. 

Her  hair,  I  said,  was  auburn ;  but  her  eyes 

Were  black  as  Death,  their  lashes  the  same  hue, 

Of  downcast  length,  in  whose  silk  shadow  lies 
Deepest  attraction ;  for  when  to  the  view 

Forth  from  its  raven  fringe  the  full  glance  flies, 
Ne'er  with  such  force  the  swiftest  arrow  flew ; 

'T  is  as  the  snake  late  coiled,  who  pours  his  length, 

And  hurls  at  once  his  venom  and  his  strength. 

CXVIII. 

Her  brow  was  white  and  low,  her  cheek's  pure  dye 
Like  twilight  rosy  still  with  the  set  sun ; 

Short  upper  lip — sweet  lips  !  that  make  us  sigh 
Ever  to  have  seen  such ;  for  she  was  one  '• 

i.  in  short  she  's  one. — [MS.] 


ii 6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

Fit  for  the  model  of  a  statuary 

(A  race  of  mere  impostors,  when  all 's  done — 
I  've  seen  much  finer  women,  ripe  and  real. 
Than  all  the  nonsense  of  their  stone  ideal). u  l 

cxix. 
I  '11  tell  you  why  I  say  so,  for  't  is  just 

One  should  not  rail  without  a  decent  cause  : 
There  was  an  Irish  lady,2  to  whose  bust 

I  ne'er  saw  justice  done,  and  yet  she  was 
A  frequent  model ;  and  if  e'er  she  must 

Yield  to  stern  Time  and  Nature's  wrinkling  laws, 
They  will  destroy  a  face  which  mortal  thought 
Ne'er  compassed,  nor  less  mortal  chisel  wrought. 

cxx. 

And  such  was  she,  the  lady  of  the  cave  : 

Her  dress  was  very  different  from  the  Spanish, 

Simpler,  and  yet  of  colours  not  so  grave ; 

For,  as  you  know,  the  Spanish  women  banish 

Bright  hues  when  out  of  doors,  and  yet,  while  wave 
Around  them  (what  I  hope  will  never  vanish) 

The  basquina  and  the  mantilla,  they 

Seem  at  the  same  time  mystical  and  gay.3 

cxxi. 
But  with  our  damsel  this  was  not  the  case  : 

Her  dress  was  many-coloured,  finely  spun ; 
Her  locks  curled  negligently  round  her  face, 

But  through  them  gold  and  gems  profusely  shone : 

i.       A  set  of  humbug  rascals,  when  all 's  done — 
/  've  seen  much  finer  -women,  ripe  and  real, 
Than  all  the  nonsense  of  their  d d  ideal. — [MS.] 

1.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  IV.  stanza  1.  lines  6-9,  Poetical 
Works,  1899,  ii.  366,  note  i.] 

2.  [Probably  that  "Alpha  and  Omega  of  Beauty,"  Lady  Adelaide 
Forbes  (daugher  of  George,  sixth  Earl  of  Granard),  whom  Byron  com- 
pared to  the  Apollo  Belvidere.     See  Letters,  1898,  ii.  230,  note  3.] 

3.  ["  The  soya  or  basquina  .  .  .  the  outer  petticoat  ...   is  always 
black,  and  is  put  over  the   indoor   dress  on  going  out."      Compare 
M(\avflfjioves  airayrfs  rb  ir\eov  4t>  ffdyois,  Strabo,  lib.   iii.  ed.   1807, 
i.  210.     Ford's  Handbook  for  Spain,  1855,  i.  in.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  117 

Her  girdle  sparkled,  and  the  richest  lace 

Flowed  in  her  veil,  and  many  a  precious  stone 
Flashed  on  her  little  hand ;  but,  what  was  shocking, 
Her  small  snow  feet  had  slippers,  but  no  stocking. 

CXXII. 

The  other  female's  dress  was  not  unlike, 

But  of  inferior  materials  :  she 
Had  not  so  many  ornaments  to  strike, 

Her  hair  had  silver  only,  bound  to  be 
Her  dowry ;  and  her  veil,  in  form  alike, 

Was  coarser ;  and  her  air,  though  firm,  less  free ; 
Her  hair  was  thicker,  but  less  long  ;  her  eyes 
As  black,  but  quicker,  and  of  smaller  size. 

CXXIII. 

And  these  two  tended  him,  and  cheered  him  both 
With  food  and  raiment,  and  those  soft  attentions, 

Which  are — as  I  must  own — of  female  growth, 
And  have  ten  thousand  delicate  inventions  : 

They  made  a  most  superior  mess  of  broth, 
A  thing  which  poesy  but  seldom  mentions, 

But  the  best  dish  that  e'er  was  cooked  since  Homer's 

Achilles  ordered  dinner  for  new  comers.1 

CXXIV. 

I  '11  tell  you  who  they  were,  this  female  pair, 
Lest  they  should  seem  Princesses  in  disguise ; 

Besides,  I  hate  all  mystery,  and  that  air 
Of  clap-trap,  which  your  recent  poets  prize  ; 

And  so,  in  short,  the  girls  they  really  were 
They  shall  appear  before  your  curious  eyes, 

Mistress  and  maid ;  the  first  was  only  daughter 

Of  an  old  man,  who  lived  upon  the  water. 

cxxv. 

A  fisherman  he  had  been  in  his  youth, 
And  still  a  sort  of  fisherman  was  he ; 

i.  ["When  Ajax,  Ulysses,  and  Phoenix  stand  before  Achilles,  he 
rushes  forth  to  greet  them,  brings  them  into  the  tent,  directs  Patroclus 
to  mix  the  wine,  cuts  up  the  meat,  dresses  it,  and  sets  it  before  the 
ambassadors"  (Iliad,  ix.  193,  sq. ). — Study  of  the  Classics,  by  H.  N. 
Coleridge,  1830,  p.  71.] 


n8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

But  other  speculations  were,  in  sooth, 
Added  to  his  connection  with  the  sea, 

Perhaps  not  so  respectable,  in  truth  : 
A  little  smuggling,  and  some  piracy, 

Left  him,  at  last,  the  sole  of  many  masters 

Of  an  ill-gotten  million  of  piastres. 

cxxvi. 
A  fisher,  therefore,  was  he, — though  of  men, 

Like  Peter  the  Apostle,  and  he  fished 
For  wandering  merchant-vessels,  now  and  then, 

And  sometimes  caught  as  many  as  he  wished ; 
The  cargoes  he  confiscated,  and  gain 

He  sought  in  the  slave-market  too,  and  dished 
Full  many  a  morsel  for  that  Turkish  trade, 
By  which,  no  doubt,  a  good  deal  may  be  made. 

CXXVII. 

He  was  a  Greek,  and  on  his  isle  had  built 
(One  of  the  wild  and  smaller  Cyclades) 

A  very  handsome  house  from  out  his  guilt, 
And  there  he  lived  exceedingly  at  ease ; 

Heaven  knows  what  cash  he  got,  or  blood  he  spilt, 
A  sad  old  fellow  was  he,  if  you  please ; 

But  this  I  know,  it  was  a  spacious  building, 

Full  of  barbaric  carving,  paint,  and  gilding. 

CXXVIII. 

He  had  an  only  daughter,  called  Haide'e, 
The  greatest  heiress  of  the  Eastern  Isles  ; 

Besides,  so  very  beautiful  was  she, 

Her  dowry  was  as  nothing  to  her  smiles  : 

Still  in  her  teens,  and  like  a  lovely  tree 

She  grew  to  womanhood,  and  between  whiles 

Rejected  several  suitors,  just  to  learn 

How  to  accept  a  better  in  his  turn. 

cxxix. 
And  walking  out  upon  the  beach,  below 

The  cliff,  towards  sunset,  on  that  day  she  found, 
Insensible, — not  dead,  but  nearly  so, — 

Don  Juan,  almost  famished,  and  half  drowned ; 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  1 19 

But  being  naked,  she  was  shocked,  you  know, 
Yet  deemed  herself  in  common  pity  bound, 
As  far  as  in  her  lay,  "  to  take  him  in, 
A  stranger  "  dying — with  so  white  a  skin. 

cxxx. 

But  taking  him  into  her  father's  house 

Was  not  exactly  the  best  way  to  save, 
But  like  conveying  to  the  cat  the  mouse, 

Or  people  in  a  trance  into  their  grave ; 
Because  the  good  old  man  had  so  much  "  vovs," 

Unlike  the  honest  Arab  thieves  so  brave, 
He  would  have  hospitably  cured  the  stranger, 
And  sold  him  instantly  when  out  of  danger. 

CXXXI. 

And  therefore,  with  her  maid,  she  thought  it  best 

(A  virgin  always  on  her  maid  relies) 
To  place  him  in  the  cave  for  present  rest : 

And  when,  at  last,  he  opened  his  black  eyes, 
Their  charity  increased  about  their  guest ; 

And  their  compassion  grew  to  such  a  size, 
It  opened  half  the  turnpike-gates  to  Heaven — 
(St.  Paul  says,  't  is  the  toll  which  must  be  given). 

cxxxn. 
They  made  a  fire, — but  such  a  fire  as  they 

Upon  the  moment  could  contrive  with  such 
Materials  as  were  cast  up  round  the  bay, — 

Some  broken  planks,  and  oars,  that  to  the  touch 
Were  nearly  tinder,  since,  so  long  they  lay, 

A  mast  was  almost  crumbled  to  a  crutch ; 
But,  by  God's  grace,  here  wrecks  were  in  such  plenty, 
That  there  was  fuel  to  have  furnished  twenty. 

CXXXIII. 

He  had  a  bed  of  furs,  and  a  pelisse,'- 

For  Haide'e  stripped  her  sables  off  to  make 

His  couch ;  and,  that  he  might  be  more  at  ease, 
And  warm,  in  case  by  chance  he  should  awake, 

They  also  gave  a  petticoat  apiece, 

She  and  her  maid, — and  promised  by  daybreak 

i.  And  such  a  bed  of  furs,  and  a  pelisse. — [MS.] 


i2o  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

To  pay  him  a  fresh  visit,  with  a  dish 

For  breakfast,  of  eggs,  coffee,  bread,  and  fish. 

cxxxiv. 
And  thus  they  left  him  to  his  lone  repose  : 

Juan  slept  like  a  top,  or  like  the  dead, 
Who  sleep  at  last,  perhaps  (God  only  knows), 

Just  for  the  present ;  and  in  his  lulled  head 
Not  even  a  vision  of  his  former  woes 

Throbbed    in    accursed    dreams,    which    sometimes 

spread  '• 

Unwelcome  visions  of  our  former  years, 
Till  the  eye,  cheated,  opens  thick  with  tears. 

cxxxv. 

Young  Juan  slept  all  dreamless : — but  the  maid, 
Who  smoothed  his  pillow,  as  she  left  the  den 

Looked  back  upon  him,  and  a  moment  stayed, 
And  turned,  believing  that  he  called  again. 

He  slumbered  ;  yet  she  thought,  at  least  she  said 
(The  heart  will  slip,  even  as  the  tongue  and  pen), 

He  had  pronounced  her  name — but  she  forgot 

That  at  this  moment  Juan  knew  it  not. 

CXXXVI. 

And  pensive  to  her  father's  house  she  went, 

Enjoining  silence  strict  to  Zoe,  who 
Better  than  her  knew  what,  in  fact,  she  meant, 

She  being  wiser  by  a  year  or  two : 
A  year  or  two  's  an  age  when  rightly  spent, 

And  Zoe  spent  hers,  as  most  women  do, 
In  gaining  all  that  useful  sort  of  knowledge 
Which  is  acquired  in  Nature's  good  old  college. 

CXXXVI  I. 

The  morn  broke,  and  found  Juan  slumbering  still 
Fast  in  his  cave,  and  nothing  clashed  upon 

His  rest ;  the  rushing  of  the  neighbouring  rill, 
And  the  young  beams  of  the  excluded  Sun, 

i.  which  often  spread, 

And  come  like  opening  Hell  upon  the  mind, 

No  "  baseless  fabric,"  but  "a  wrack  behind." — [MS.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  121 

Troubled  him  not,  and  he  might  sleep  his  fill ; 

And  need  he  had  of  slumber  yet,  for  none 
Had  suffered  more — his  hardships  were  comparative  '• 
To  those  related  in  my  grand-dad's  "  Narrative."  l 

cxxxvin. 
Not  so  Haidee :  she  sadly  tossed  and  tumbled, 

And  started  from  her  sleep,  and,  turning  o'er, 
Dreamed  of  a  thousand  wrecks,  o'er  which  she  stumbled, 

And  handsome  corpses  strewed  upon  the  shore  • 
And  woke  her  maid  so  early  that  she  grumbled, 

And  called  her  father's  old  slaves  up,  who  swore 
In  several  oaths — Armenian,  Turk,  and  Greek — 
They  knew  not  what  to  think  of  such  a  freak. 

cxxxix. 
But  up  she  got,  and  up  she  made  them  get, 

With  some  pretence  about  the  Sun,  that  makes 
Sweet  skies  just  when  he  rises,  or  is  set ; 

And  't  is,  no  doubt,  a  sight  to  see  when  breaks 
Bright  Phoebus,  while  the  mountains  still  are  wet 

With  mist,  and  every  bird  with  him  awakes, 
And  night  is  flung  off  like  a  mourning  suit 
Worn  for  a  husband, — or  some  other  brute.'1 

CXL. 
I  say,  the  Sun  is  a  most  glorious  sight, 

I  've  seen  him  rise  full  oft,  indeed  of  late 
I  have  sat  up  on  purpose  all  the  night,"'-  - 

Which  hastens,  as  physicians  say,  one's  fate ; 

i.  Had  e'er  escaped  more  dangers  on  the  deep  ; — 
And  those  who  are  not  drowned,  at  least  may  sleep. 

ii.   Wore  for  a  husband — or  some  such  like  brute. — [ 

iii.  although  of  late 

fve  changed,  for  some  few  years,  the  day  to  night. — \MSJ\ 

1.  [Entitled  A  Narrative  of  the  Honourable  John  Byron  (Commodore 
in  a  late  expedition  round  the  world),  containing  an  account  of  the 
great  distresses  suffered  by  himself  and  his  companions  on  the  coast  of 
Patagonia,  from   the  year  1740,  till  their  arrival   in  England,  1746. 
Written  by  Himself,"  London,  1768,  40.     For  the  Hon.  John  Byron, 
1723-86,  younger  brother  of  William,  fifth  Lord  Byron,  see  Letters, 
1898,  i.  3.] 

2.  [The  second  canto  of  Don  Juan  was  finished  in  January,  1819, 
when  the  Venetian  Carnival  was  at  its  height.  ] 


122  DON   JUAN.  [CANTO  II. 

And  so  all  ye,  who  would  be  in  the  right 

In  health  and  purse,  begin  your  day  to  date 
From  daybreak,  and  when  coffined  at  fourscore, 
Engrave  upon  the  plate,  you  rose  at  four. 

CXLI. 
And  Haide'e  met  the  morning  face  to  face ; 

Her  own  was  freshest,  though  a  feverish  flush 
Had  dyed  it  with  the  headlong  blood,  whose  race 

From  heart  to  cheek  is  curbed  into  a  blush, 
Like  to  a  torrent  which  a  mountain's  base, 

That  overpowers  some  Alpine  river's  rush, 
Checks  to  a  lake,  whose  waves  in  circles  spread  ; 
Or  the  Red  Sea — but  the  sea  is  not  red.1 

CXLII. 
And  down  the  cliff  the  island  virgin  came, 

And  near  the  cave  her  quick  light  footsteps  drew, 
While  the  Sun  smiled  on  her  with  his  first  flame, 

And  young  Aurora  kissed  her  lips  with  dew, 
Taking  her  for  a  sister ;  just  the  same 

Mistake  you  would  have  made  on  seeing  the  two, 
Although  the  mortal,  quite  as  fresh  and  fair, 
Had  all  the  advantage,  too,  of  not  being  air.1- 

CXLIII. 
And  when  into  the  cavern  Haide'e  stepped 

All  timidly,  yet  rapidly,  she  saw 
That  like  an  infant  Juan  sweetly  slept ; 

And  then  she  stopped,  and  stood  as  if  in  awe 

i.  just  the  same 

As  at  this  moment  I  should  like  to  do  ; — 
But  I  have  done  with  kisses — having  kissed 
All  those  that  would — regretting  those  I  missed. — [MS.] 

i.  [Strabo  (lib.  xvi.  ed.  1807,  p.  1106)  gives  various  explanations  of 
the  name,  assigning  the  supposed  redness  to  the  refraction  of  the  rays 
of  the  vertical  sun  ;  or  to  the  shadow  of  the  scorched  mountain-sides 
which  form  its  shores ;  or,  as  Ctesias  would  have  it,  to  a  certain  foun- 
tain which  discharged  red  oxide  of  lead  into  its  waters.  ' '  Abyssinian  " 
Bruce  had  no  doubt  that  "  large  trees  or  plants  of  coral  spread  every- 
where over  the  bottom,"  made  the  sea  "red,"  and  accounted  for  the 
name.  But,  according  to  Niebuhr,  the  Red  Sea  is  the  Sea  of  Edom, 
which,  being  interpreted,  is  "  Red."] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  123 

(For  sleep  is  awful),  and  on  tiptoe  crept 

And  wrapped  him  closer,  lest  the  air,  too  raw, 
Should  reach  his  blood,  then  o'er  him  still  as  Death 
Bent,  with  hushed  lips,  that  drank  his  scarce-drawn  breath. 

CXLIV. 
And  thus  like  to  an  Angel  o'er  the  dying 

Who  die  in  righteousness,  she  leaned ;  and  there 
All  tranquilly  the  shipwrecked  boy  was  lying, 

As  o'er  him  lay  the  calm  and  stirless  air : 
But  Zoe  the  meantime  some  eggs  was  frying, 

Since,  after  all,  no  doubt  the  youthful  pair 
Must  breakfast — and,  betimes,  lest  they  should  ask  it, 
She  drew  out  her  provision  from  the  basket. 

CXLV. 
She  knew  that  the  best  feelings  must  have  victual, 

And  that  a  shipwrecked  youth  would  hungry  be ; 
Besides,  being  less  in  love,  she  yawned  a  little, 

And  felt  her  veins  chilled  by  the  neighbouring  sea ; 
And  so,  she  cooked  their  breakfast  to  a  tittle ; 

I  can't  say  that  she  gave  them  any  tea, 
But  there  were  eggs,  fruit,  coffee,  bread,  fish,  honey, 
With  Scio  wine, — and  all  for  love,  not  money. 

CXLVI. 

And  Zoe,  when  the  eggs  were  ready,  and 

The  coffee  made,  would  fain  have  wakened  Juan  ; 

But  Haidee  stopped  her  with  her  quick  small  hand, 
And  without  word,  a  sign  her  finger  drew  on 

Her  lip,  which  Zoe  needs  must  understand ; 

And,  the  first  breakfast  spoilt,  prepared  a  new  one, 

Because  her  mistress  would  not  let  her  break 

That  sleep  which  seemed  as  it  would  ne'er  awake. 

CXLVII. 
For  still  he  lay,  and  on  his  thin  worn  cheek 

A  purple  hectic  played  like  dying  day 
On  the  snow-tops  of  distant  hills ;  the  streak 

Of  sufferance  yet  upon  his  forehead  lay, 
Where  the  blue  veins  looked  shadowy,  shrunk,  and  weak ; 

And  his  black  curls  were  dewy  with  the  spray, 


124  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

Which  weighed  upon  them  yet,  all  damp  and  salt, 
Mixed  with  the  stony  vapours  of  the  vault. 

CXLVIII. 
And  she  bent  o'er  him,  and  he  lay  beneath, 

Hushed  as  the  babe  upon  its  mother's  breast, 
Drooped  as  the  willow  when  no  winds  can  breathe, 

Lulled  like  the  depth  of  Ocean  when  at  rest, 
Fair  as  the  crowning  rose  of  the  whole  wreath, 

Soft  as  the  callow  cygnet  in  its  nest ;  '• 
In  short,  he  was  a  very  pretty  fellow, 
Although  his  woes  had  turned  him  rather  yellow. 

CXLIX. 
He  woke  and  gazed,  and  would  have  slept  again, 

But  the  fair  face  which  met  his  eyes  forbade 
Those  eyes  to  close,  though  weariness  and  pain 

Had  further  sleep  a  further  pleasure  made  : 
For  Woman's  face  was  never  formed  in  vain 

For  Juan,  so  that  even  when  he  prayed 
He  turned  from  grisly  saints,  and  martyrs  hairy, 
To  the  sweet  portraits  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 

CL. 
And  thus  upon  his  elbow  he  arose, 

And  looked  upon  the  lady,  in  whose  cheek 
The  pale  contended  with  the  purple  rose, 

As  with  an  effort  she  began  to  speak ; 
Her  eyes  were  eloquent,  her  words  would  pose, 

Although  she  told  him,  in  good  modern  Greek, 
With  an  Ionian  accent,  low  and  sweet, 
That  he  was  faint,  and  must  not  talk,  but  eat. 

CLI. 

Now  Juan  could  not  understand  a  word, 
Being  no  Grecian  ;  but  he  had  an  ear, 

And  her  voice  was  the  warble  of  a  bird,1 
So  soft,  so  sweet,  so  delicately  clear, 

i.  Fair  as  the  rose  just  plucked  to  crown  the  wreath. 

Soft  as  the  unfledged  birdling  when  at  rest. — [MS.] 

i.  [Compare  Mazeppa,  lines  829,  sq.,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  232.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  125 

That  finer,  simpler  music  ne'er  was  heard  ;  '• 

The  sort  of  sound  we  echo  with  a  tear, 
Without  knowing  why — an  overpowering  tone, 
Whence  Melody  descends  as  from  a  throne. 

CLII. 
And  Juan  gazed  as  one  who  is  awoke 

By  a  distant  organ,  doubting  if  he  be 
Not  yet  a  dreamer,  till  the  spell  is  broke 

By  the  watchman,  or  some  such  reality, 
Or  by  one's  early  valet's  curse'd  knock ; 

At  least  it  is  a  heavy  sound  to  me, 
Who  like  a  morning  slumber — for  the  night 
Shows  stars  and  women  in  a  better  light. 

CLIII. 

And  Juan,  too,  was  helped  out  from  his  dream, 
Or  sleep,  or  whatsoe'er  it  was,  by  feeling 

A  most  prodigious  appetite  ;  the  steam 
Of  Zoe's  cookery  no  doubt  was  stealing 

Upon  his  senses,  and  the  kindling  beam 

Of  the  new  fire,  which  Zoe  kept  up,  kneeling, 

To  stir  her  viands,  made  him  quite  awake 

And  long  for  food,  but  chiefly  a  beef-steak. 

CLIV. 

But  beef  is  rare  within  these  oxless  isles  ; 

Goat's  flesh  there  is,  no  doubt,  and  kid,  and  mutton, 
And,  when  a  holiday  upon  them  smiles, 

A  joint  upon  their  barbarous  spits  they  put  on  : 
But  this  occurs  but  seldom,  between  whiles, 

For  some  of  these  are  rocks  with  scarce  a  hut  on  ; 
Others  are  fair  and  fertile,  among  which 
This,  though  not  large,  was  one  of  the  most  rich. 

CLV. 

I  say  that  beef  is  rare,  and  can't  help  thinking 
That  the  old  fable  of  the  Minotaur — 

i.    That  finer  melody  was  never  heard. 

The  kind  of  sound  whose  echo  is  a  tear, 
Whose  accents  are  the  steps  of  Music  s  throne.1 — [A/5.] 

i.  ["To  the  Publisher.     Take  of  these  varieties  which  is  thought 
best.     I  have  no  choice."] 


26  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

From  which  our  modem  morals,  rightly  shrinking, 
Condemn  the  royal  lady's  taste  who  wore 

A  cow's  shape  for  a  mask — was  only  (sinking 
The  allegory)  a  mere  type,  no  more, 

That  Pasiphae  promoted  breeding  cattle, 

To  make  the  Cretans  bloodier  in  battle. 

CLVI. 
For  we  all  know  that  English  people  are 

Fed  upon  beef — I  won't  say  much  of  beer, 
Because  't  is  liquor  only,  and  being  far 

From  this  my  subject,  has  no  business  here ; 
We  know,  too,  they  are  very  fond  of  war, 

A  pleasure — like  all  pleasures — rather  dear ; 
So  were  the  Cretans — from  which  I  infer, 
That  beef  and  battles  both  were  owing  to  her. 

CLVII. 
But  to  resume.     The  languid  Juan  raised 

His  head  upon  his  elbow,  and  he  saw 
A  sight  on  which  he  had  not  lately  gazed, 

As  all  his  latter  meals  had  been  quite  raw, 
Three  or  four  things,  for  which  the  Lord  he  praised, 

And,  feeling  still  the  famished  vulture  gnaw, 
He  fell  upon  whate'er  was  offered,  like 
A  priest,  a  shark,  an  alderman,  or  pike. 

CLVIII. 
He  ate,  and  he  was  well  supplied ;  and  she, 

Who  watched  him  like  a  mother,  would  have  fed 
Him  past  all  bounds,  because  she  smiled  to  see 

Such  appetite  in  one  she  had  deemed  dead : 
But  Zoe,  being  older  than  Haidde, 

Knew  (by  tradition,  for  she  ne'er  had  read) 
That  famished  people  must  be  slowly  nurst, 
And  fed  by  spoonfuls,  else  they  always  burst. 

CLIX. 
And  so  she  took  the  liberty  to  state, 

Rather  by  deeds  than  words,  because  the  case 
Was  urgent,  that  the  gentleman,  whose  fate 

Had  made  her  mistress  quit  her  bed  to  trace 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  127 

The  sea-shore  at  this  hour,  must  leave  his  plate, 

Unless  he  wished  to  die  upon  the  place — 
She  snatched  it,  and  refused  another  morsel, 
Saying,  he  had  gorged  enough  to  make  a  horse  ill. 

CLX. 

Next  they — he  being  naked,  save  a  tattered 
Pair  of  scarce  decent  trowsers — went  to  work, 

And  in  the  fire  his  recent  rags  they  scattered, 
And  dressed  him,  for  the  present,  like  a  Turk, 

Or  Greek — that  is,  although  it  not  much  mattered, 
Omitting  turban,  slippers,  pistol,  dirk, — 

They  furnished  him,  entire,  except  some  stitches, 

With  a  clean  shirt,  and  very  spacious  breeches. 

CLXI. 
And  then  fair  Haide'e  tried  her  tongue  at  speaking, 

But  not  a  word  could  Juan  comprehend, 
Although  he  listened  so  that  the  young  Greek  in 

Her  earnestness  would  ne'er  have  made  an  end ; 
And,  as  he  interrupted  not,  went  eking 

Her  speech  out  to  her  protegd  and  friend, 
Till  pausing  at  the  last  her  breath  to  take, 
She  saw  he  did  not  understand  Romaic. 

CLXII. 
And  then  she  had  recourse  to  nods,  and  signs, 

And  smiles,  and  sparkles  of  the  speaking  eye, 
And  read  (the  only  book  she  could)  the  lines 

Of  his  fair  face,  and  found,  by  sympathy, 
The  answer  eloquent,  where  the  Soul  shines 

And  darts  in  one  quick  glance  a  long  reply  ; 
And  thus  in  every  look  she  saw  expressed 
A  world  of  words,  and  things  at  which  she  guessed. 

CLXIII. 
And  now,  by  dint  of  fingers  and  of  eyes, 

And  words  repeated  after  her,  he  took 
A  lesson  in  her  tongue ;  but  by  surmise, 

No  doubt,  less  of  her  language  than  her  look  : 
As  he  who  studies  fervently  the  skies 

Turns  oftener  to  the  stars  than  to  his  book, 


iz8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

Thus  Juan  learned  his  alpha  beta  better 
From  HaideVs  glance  than  any  graven  letter. 

CLXIV. 
'T  is  pleasing  to  be  schooled  in  a  strange  tongue 

By  female  lips  and  eyes — that  is,  I  mean, 
When  both  the  teacher  and  the  taught  are  young, 

As  was  the  case,  at  least,  where  I  have  been ; * 
They  smile  so  when  one  's  right,  and  when  one  's  wrong 

They  smile  still  more,  and  then  there  intervene 
Pressure  of  hands,  perhaps  even  a  chaste  kiss ; —  '• 
I  learned  the  little  that  I  know  by  this : 

CLXV. 
That  is,  some  words  of  Spanish,  Turk,  and  Greek, 

Italian  not  at  all,  having  no  teachers ;  "• 
Much  English  I  cannot  pretend  to  speak, 

Learning  that  language  chiefly  from  its  preachers, 
Barrow,  South,  Tillotson,  whom  every  week 

I  study,  also  Blair — the  highest  reachers 
Of  eloquence  in  piety  and  prose — 
I  hate  your  poets,  so  read  none  of  those. 

CLXVI. 
As  for  the  ladies,  I  have  nought  to  say, 

A  wanderer  from  the  British  world  of  Fashion,2 
Where  I,  like  other  "  dogs,  have  had  my  day," 

Like  other  men,  too,  may  have  had  my  passion — 
But  that,  like  other  things,  has  passed  away, 

And  all  her  fools  whom  I  could  lay  the  lash  on  : 
Foes,  friends,  men,  women,  now  are  nought  to  me 
But  dreams  of  what  has  been,  no  more  to  be.1"-  • 

i.  Pressure  of  hands,  et  cetera — or  a  kiss. — [MS.  Alternative  reading.} 
ii.  Italian  rather  more,  having  more  teachers. — [MS.  erased.] 
iii.  Foes,  friends,  sex,  kind,  are  nothing  more  to  me 

Than  a  mere  dream  of  something  o'er  the  sea. — [MS.~\ 

1.  [Moore,  quoting  from  memory  from  one  of  Byron's  MS.  journals, 
says  that  he  speaks  of  "  making  earnest  love  to  the  younger  of  his  fair 
hostesses  at  Seville,  with  the  help  of  a  dictionary." — Life,  p.  93.     See, 
too,  letter  to  his  mother,  August  n,  1809,  Letters,  1898,  i.  240.] 

2.  ["  In  1813  ...  in  the  fashionable  world  of  London,  of  which  I  then 
formed  an  item,  a  fraction,  the  segment  of  a  circle,  the  unit  of  a  million, 
the  nothing  of  something.  ...  I  had  been  the  lion  of  1812." — Extracts 
from  a  Diary,  January  19,  1821,  Letters,  1901,  v.  177,  178.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON  JUAN.  129 

CLXVII. 

Return  we  to  Don  Juan.     He  begun  1 

To  hear  new  words,  and  to  repeat  them ;  but 

Some  feelings,  universal  as  the  Sun, 

Were  such  as  could  not  in  his  breast  be  shut 

More  than  within  the  bosom  of  a  nun  : 

He  was  in  love, — as  you  would  be,  no  doubt, 

With  a  young  benefactress, — so  was  she, 

Just  in  the  way  we  very  often  see. 

CLXVIII. 
And  every  day  by  daybreak — rather  early 

For  Juan,  who  was  somewhat  fond  of  rest — 
She  came  into  the  cave,  but  it  was  merely 

To  see  her  bird  reposing  in  his  nest  ;a 
And  she  would  softly  stir  his  locks  so  curly, 

Without  disturbing  her  yet  slumbering  guest, 
Breathing  all  gently  o'er  his  cheek  and  mouth,1- 
As  o'er  a  bed  of  roses  the  sweet  South. 

CLXIX. 

And  every  morn  his  colour  freshlier  came, 
And  every  day  helped  on  his  convalescence ; 

'T  was  well,  because  health  in  the  human  frame 
Is  pleasant,  besides  being  true  Love's  essence, 

For  health  and  idleness  to  Passion's  flame 
Are  oil  and  gunpowder ;  and  some  good  lessons 

Are  also  learnt  from  Ceres  and  from  Bacchus, 

Without  whom  Venus  will  not  long  attack  us.3 

CLXX. 

While  Venus  fills  the  heart,  (without  heart  really 
Love,  though  good  always,  is  not  quite  so  good,) 

Ceres  presents  a  plate  of  vermicelli, — 

For  Love  must  be  sustained  like  flesh  and  blood, — 

i.  Holding  her  sweet  breath  o'er  his  cheek  and  mouth, 
As  o'er  a  bed  of  roses,  etc.—[MS.~\ 

1.  [For  the  same  archaism  or  blunder,  compare  Manfred,  act  i. 
sc.  4,  line  19,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  132.] 

2.  [Compare  The  Prisoner  of  Chilian,  line  78,  ibid.,  p.  16.] 

3.  [Vide post,  Canto  XVI.  stanza  Ixxxvi.  line  6,  p.  598,  note  i.] 
VOL.  VI.  K 


130  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

While  Bacchus  pours  out  wine,  or  hands  a  jelly  : 

Eggs,  oysters,  too,  are  .amatory  food;'- 
But  who  is  their  purveyor  from  above 
Heaven  knows, — it  may  be  Neptune,  Pan,  or  Jove. 

CLXXI. 

When  Juan  woke  he  found  some  good  things  ready, 
A  bath,  a  breakfast,  and  the  finest  eyes 

That  ever  made  a  youthful  heart  less  steady, 
Besides  her  maid's,  as  pretty  for  their  size ; 

But  I  have  spoken  of  all  this  already — 
A  repetition  's  tiresome  and  unwise, — 

Well — Juan,  after  bathing  in  the  sea, 

Came  always  back  to  coffee  and  Haidde. 

CLXXII. 

Both  were  so  young,  and  one  so  innocent, 

That  bathing  passed  for  nothing ;  Juan  seemed 

To  her,  as  't  were,  the  kind  of  being  sent, 

Of  whom  these  two  years  she  had  nightly  dreamed, 

A  something  to  be  loved,  a  creature  meant 
To  be  her  happiness,  and  whom  she  deemed 

To  render  happy  ;  all  who  joy  would  win 

Must  share  it, — Happiness  was  born  a  Twin. 

CLXXIII. 

It  was  such  pleasure  to  behold  him,  such 

Enlargement  of  existence  to  partake 
Nature  with  him,  to  thrill  beneath  his  touch, 

To  watch  him  slumbering,  and  to  see  him  wake  : 
To  live  with  him  for  ever  were  too  much ; 

But  then  the  thought  of  parting  made  her  quake ; 
He  was  her  own,  her  ocean-treasure,  cast 
Like  a  rich  wreck — her  first  love,  and  her  last.11 

i.       For  without  heart  Love  is  not  quite  so  good  ; 
Ceres  is  commissary  to  our  bellies, 

And  Love,  which  also  much  depends  on  food: 
While  Bacchus  will  provide  with  wine  and  jellies — 

Oysters  and  eggs  are  also  living  food. — [MS.~\ 
ii.  He  was  her  own,  her  Ocean- lover,  cast 

To  be  her  soul's  first  idol,  and  its  last.— [MS.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON  JUAN.  13! 

CLXXIV. 

And  thus  a  moon  rolled  on,  and  fair  Haidee 

Paid  daily  visits  to  her  boy,  and  took 
Such  plentiful  precautions,  that  still  he 

Remained  unknown  within  his  craggy  nook  ; 
At  last  her  father's  prows  put  out  to  sea, 

For  certain  merchantmen  upon  the  look, 
Not  as  of  yore  to  carry  off  an  lo, 
But  three  Ragusan  vessels,  bound  for  Scio. 

CLXXV. 

Then  came  her  freedom,  for  she  had  no  mother, 
So  that,  her  father  being  at  sea,  she  was 

Free  as  a  married  woman,  or  such  other 
Female,  as  where  she  likes  may  freely  pass, 

Without  even  the  encumbrance  of  a  brother, 
The  freest  she  that  ever  gazed  on  glass  : 

I  speak  of  Christian  lands  in  this  comparison, 

Where  wives,  at  least,  are  seldom  kept  in  garrison. 

CLXXVI. 

Now  she  prolonged  her  visits  and  her  talk 
(For  they  must  talk),  and  he  had  learnt  to  say 

So  much  as  to  propose  to  take  a  walk, — 
For  little  had  he  wandered  since  the  day 

On  which,  like  a  young  flower  snapped  from  the  stalk, 
Drooping  and  dewy  on  the  beach  he  lay, — 

And  thus  they  walked  out  in  the  afternoon, 

And  saw  the  sun  set  opposite  the  moon.'- 

CLXXVII. 

It  was  a  wild  and  breaker-beaten  coast, 
With  cliffs  above,  and  a  broad  sandy  shore, 

Guarded  by  shoals  and  rocks  as  by  an  host, 

With  here  and  there  a  creek,  whose  aspect  wore 

A  better  welcome  to  the  tempest-tost ; 

And  rarely  ceased  the  haughty  billow's  roar, 

Save  on  the  dead  long  summer  days,  which  make 

The  outstretched  Ocean  glitter  like  a  lake. 

i.  And  saw  the  sunset  and  the  rising  moon. 


132  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

CLXXVIII. 

And  the  small  ripple  spilt  upon  the  beach 

Scarcely  o'erpassed  the  cream  of  your  champagne, 

When  o'er  the  brim  the  sparkling  bumpers  reach, 
That  spring-dew  of  the  spirit !  the  heart's  rain  ! 

Few  things  surpass  old  wine ;  and  they  may  preach 
Who  please, — the  more  because  they  preach  in  vain, — 

Let  us  have  Wine  and  Woman,1  Mirth  and  Laughter, 

Sermons  and  soda-water  the  day  after. 

CLXXIX. 

Man,  being  reasonable,  must  get  drunk; 

The  best  of  Life  is  but  intoxication  : 
Glory,  the  Grape,  Love,  Gold,  in  these  are  sunk 

The  hopes  of  all  men,  and  of  every  nation  ; 
Without  their  sap,  how  branchless  were  the  trunk 

Of  Life's  strange  tree,  so  fruitful  on  occasion  ! 
But  to  return, — Get  very  drunk,  and  when 
You  wake  with  headache — you  shall  see  what  then  ! 

CLXXX. 

Ring  for  your  valet — bid  him  quickly  bring 
Some  hock  and  soda-water,2  then  you  '11  know 

A  pleasure  worthy  Xerxes  the  great  king  ; 

For  not  the  blest  sherbet,  sublimed  with  snow,3 

Nor  the  first  sparkle  of  the  desert-spring, 
Nor  Burgundy  in  all  its  sunset  glow,'- 

After  long  travel,  Ennui,  Love,  or  Slaughter, 

Vie  with  that  draught  of  hock  and  soda-water  ! 

i.  A  pleasure  naught  tut  drunkenness  can  bring; 
For  not  the  blest  sherbet  all  chilled  with  snow. 
Nor  the  full  sparkle  of  the  desert-spring, 

Nor  wine  in  all  the  purple  of  its  glow, — [MS.] 

i.  [The  MS.  and  the  editions  of  1819,  1823,  1828,  read  i "  woman. " 
The  edition  of  1833  reads  "women."  The  text  follows  the  MS.  and 
the  earlier  editions.] 

a.  [Compare  stanza  prefixed  to  Dedication,  vide  ante,  p.  2.] 

3.  [Compare — 

1 '  Yes  !  thy  Sherbet  to-night  will  sweetly  flow, 

See  how  it  sparkles  in  its  vase  of  snow  !  " 
Corsair,  Canto  I.  lines  427,  428,  Poetical  Works,  1900,  iii.  242.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON  JUAN.  133 

CLXXXI. 

The  coast — I  think  it  was  the  coast  that  I 
Was  just  describing — Yes,  it  was  the  coast — 

Lay  at  this  period  quiet  as  the  sky, 
The  sands  untumbled,  the  blue  waves  untossed, 

And  all  was  stillness,  save  the  sea-bird's  cry, 
And  dolphin's  leap,  and  little  billow  crossed 

By  some  low  rock  or  shelve,  that  made  it  fret 

Against  the  boundary  it  scarcely  wet. 

CLXXXII. 

And  forth  they  wandered,  her  sire  being  gone, 

As  I  have  said,  upon  an  expedition ; 
And  mother,  brother,  guardian,  she  had  none, 

Save  Zoe,  who,  although  with  due  precision 
She  waited  on  her  lady  with  the  Sun, 

Thought  daily  service  was  her  only  mission, 
Bringing  warm  water,  wreathing  her  long  tresses, 
And  asking  now  and  then  for  cast-off  dresses. 

CLXXXIII. 

It  was  the  cooling  hour,  just  when  the  rounded 
Red  sun  sinks  down  behind  the  azure  hill, 

Which  then  seems  as  if  the  whole  earth  it  bounded, 
Circling  all  Nature,  hushed,  and  dim,  and  still, 

With  the  far  mountain-crescent  half  surrounded 
On  one  side,  and  the  deep  sea  calm  and  chill 

Upon  the  other,  and  the  rosy  sky 

With  one  star  sparkling  through  it  like  an  eye. 

CLXXXIV. 

And  thus  they  wandered  forth,  and  hand  in  hand, 
Over  the  shining  pebbles  and  the  shells, 

Glided  along  the  smooth  and  hardened  sand, 
And  in  the  worn  and  wild  receptacles 

Worked  by  the  storms,  yet  worked  as  it  were  planned 
In  hollow  halls,  with  sparry  roofs  and  cells, 

They  turned  to  rest ;  and,  each  clasped  by  an  arm, 

Yielded  to  the  deep  Twilight's  purple  charm. 


134  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

CLXXXV. 

They  looked  up  to  the  sky,  whose  floating  glow 
Spread  like  a  rosy  Ocean,  vast  and  bright ;  '• 

They  gazed  upon  the  glittering  sea  below, 

Whence  the  broad  Moon  rose  circling  into  sight ; 

They  heard  the  waves'  splash,  and  the  wind  so  low, 
And  saw  each  other's  dark  eyes  darting  light 

Into  each  other — and,  beholding  this, 

Their  lips  drew  near,  and  clung  into  a  kiss  ; 

CLXXXVI. 
A  long,  long  kiss,  a  kiss  of  Youth,  and  Love, 

And  Beauty,  all  concentrating  like  rays 
Into  one  focus,  kindled  from  above ; 

Such  kisses  as  belong  to  early  days, 
Where  Heart,  and  Soul,  and  Sense,  in  concert  move, 

And  the  blood  's  lava,  and  the  pulse  a  blaze, 
Each  kiss  a  heart-quake, — for  a  kiss's  strength, 
I  think,  it  must  be  reckoned  by  its  length. 

CLXXXVI  r. 
By  length  I  mean  duration ;  theirs  endured 

Heaven    knows    how    long — no    doubt    they    never 

reckoned ; 
And  if  they  had,  they  could  not  have  secured 

The  sum  of  their  sensations  to  a  second  : 
They  had  not  spoken,  but  they  felt  allured, 

As  if  their  souls  and  lips  each  other  beckoned, 
Which,  being  joined,  like  swarming  bees  they  clung — 
Their  hearts  the  flowers  from  whence  the  honey  sprung."- 

CLXXXVIII. 

They  were  alone,  but  not  alone  as  they 
Who  shut  in  chambers  think  it  loneliness ; 

The  silent  Ocean,  and  the  starlight  bay, 

The  twilight  glow,  which  momently  grew  less, 

i.  Spread  like  an  Ocean,  varied,  vast,  and  bright. — [A/5.] 
ii.  I'm  sure  they  never  reckoned  ; 

And  being  joined — like  swarming  bees  they  clung, 

And  mixed  until  the  very  pleasure  stung. 
or,  And  one  was  innocent,  but  both  too  young, 

Their  hearts  the  flowers,  etc.-— [MS.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  135 

The  voiceless  sands,  and  dropping  caves,  that  lay 
Around  them,  made  them  to  each  other  press, 
As  if  there  were  no  life  beneath  the  sky 
Save  theirs,  and  that  their  life  could  never  die. 

CLXXXIX. 
They  feared  no  eyes  nor  ears  on  that  lone  beach ; 

They  felt  no  terrors  from  the  night ;  they  were 
All  in  all  to  each  other :  though  their  speech 

Was  broken  words,  they  thought  a  language  there, — 
And  all  the  burning  tongues  the  Passions  teach1- 

Found  in  one  sigh  the  best  interpreter 
Of  Nature's  oracle — first  love, — that  all 
Which  Eve  has  left  her  daughters  since  her  fall. 

cxc. 
Haidee  spoke  not  of  scruples,  asked  no  vows, 

Nor  offered  any ;  she  had  never  heard 
Of  plight  and  promises  to  be  a  spouse, 

Or  perils  by  a  loving  maid  incurred ; 
She  was  all  which  pure  Ignorance  allows, 

And  flew  to  her  young  mate  like  a  young  bird  ; 
And,  never  having  dreamt  of  falsehood,  she 
Had  not  one  word  to  say  of  constancy. 

cxci. 
She  loved,  and  was  belove'd — she  adored, 

And  she  was  worshipped  after  Nature's  fashion — 
Their  intense  souls,  into  each  other  poured, 

If  souls  could  die,  had  perished  in  that  passion, — 
But  by  degrees  their  senses  were  restored, 

Again  to  be  o'ercome,  again  to  dash  on ; 
And,  beating  'gainst  his  bosom,  Haidee's  heart 
Felt  as  if  never  more  to  beat  apart. 

CXCII. 

Alas  !  they  were  so  young,  so  beautiful, 
So  lonely,  loving,  helpless,  and  the  hour 

Was  that  in  which  the  Heart  is  always  full, 
And,  having  o'er  itself  no  further  power, 

i.  In  all  the  burning  tongues  the  Passions  teach 

They  had  no  further  feeling,  hope,  nor  care 

Save  one,  and  that  was  Love.— {MS.  erased.~\ 


136 


DON   JUAN. 


[CANTO  n. 


Prompts  deeds  Eternity  can  not  annul, 

But  pays  off  moments  in  an  endless  shower 
Of  hell-fire — all  prepared  for  people  giving 
Pleasure  or  pain  to  one  another  living. 

CXCIII. 

Alas  !  for  Juan  and  Haidee  !  they  were 
So  loving  and  so  lovely — till  then  never, 

Excepting  our  first  parents,  such  a  pair 

Had  run  the  risk  of  being  damned  for  ever : 

And  Haide'e,  being  devout  as  well  as  fair, 

Had,  doubtless,  heard  about  the  Stygian  river, 

And  Hell  and  Purgatory — but  forgot 

Just  in  the  very  crisis  she  should  not. 

CXCIV. 
They  look  upon  each  other,  and  their  eyes 

Gleam  in  the  moonlight ;  and  her  white  arm  clasps 
Round  Juan's  head,  and  his  around  her  lies 

Half  buried  in  the  tresses  which  it  grasps ; 
She  sits  upon  his  knee,  and  drinks  his  sighs, 

He  hers,  until  they  end  in  broken  gasps ; 
And  thus  they  form  a  group  that 's  quite  antique, 
Half  naked,  loving,  natural,  and  Greek. 

cxcv. 
And  when  those  deep  and  burning  moments  passed, 

And  Juan  sunk  to  sleep  within  her  arms, 
She  slept  not,  but  all  tenderly,  though  fast, 

Sustained  his  head  upon  her  bosom's  charms ; 
And  now  and  then  her  eye  to  Heaven  is  cast, 

And  then  on  the  pale  cheek  her  breast  now  warms, 
Pillowed  on  her  o'erflowing  heart,  which  pants 
With  all  it  granted,  and  with  all  it  grants.1 

cxcvi. 
An  infant  when  it  gazes  on  a  light, 

A  child  the  moment  when  it  drains  the  breast, 
A  devotee  when  soars  the  Host  in  sight, 

An  Arab  with  a  stranger  for  a  guest, 

i.  Pillowed  upon  her  beating  heart — "which  panted 
With  the  sweet  memory  of  all  it  granted. — [MS.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON   JUAN.  137 

A  sailor  when  the  prize  has  struck  in  fight, 

A  miser  filling  his  most  hoarded  chest, 
Feel  rapture ;  but  not  such  true  joy  are  reaping 
As  they  who  watch  o'er  what  they  love  while  sleeping. 

CXCVII. 

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  't  is  giving ; 

All  it  hath  felt,  inflicted,  passed,  and  proved, 

Hushed  into  depths  beyond  the  watcher's  diving : 

There  lies  the  thing  we  love  with  all  its  errors 

And  all  its  charms,  like  Death  without  its  terrors. 

cxcvin. 
The  Lady  watched  her  lover — and  that  hour 

Of  Love's,  and  Night's,  and  Ocean's  solitude 
O'erflowed  her  soul  with  their  united  power ; 

Amidst  the  barren  sand  and  rocks  so  rude 
She  and  her  wave-worn  love  had  made  their  bower, 

Where  nought  upon  their  passion  could  intrude, 
And  all  the  stars  that  crowded  the  blue  space 
Saw  nothing  happier  than  her  glowing  face. 

cxcix. 
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 't  is  lost,  Life  hath  no  more  to  bring 
To  them  but  mockeries  of  the  past  alone, 

And  their  revenge  is  as  the  tiger's  spring, 
Deadly,  and  quick,  and  crushing ;  yet,  as  real 
Torture  is  theirs — what  they  inflict  they  feel. 

cc. 
They  are  right ;  for  Man,  to  man  so  oft  unjust, 

Is  always  so  to  Women  :  one  sole  bond 
Awaits  them — treachery  is  all  their  trust  • 

Taught  to  conceal  their  bursting  hearts  despond 
Over  their  idol,  till  some  wealthier  lust 

Buys  them  in  marriage — and  what  rests  beyond  ? 


i38  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

A  thankless  husband — next,  a  faithless  lover — 
Then  dressing,  nursing,  praying — and  all 's  over. 

CCI. 
Some  take  a  lover,  some  take  drams  or  prayers, 

Some  mind  their  household,  others  dissipation, 
Some  run  away,  and  but  exchange  their  cares, 

Losing  the  advantage  of  a  virtuous  station ; 
Few  changes  e'er  can  better  their  affairs, 

Theirs  being  an  unnatural  situation, 
From  the  dull  palace  to  the  dirty  hovel :  '• 
Some  play  the  devil,  and  then  write  a  novel.1 

ecu. 
Haide'e  was  Nature's  bride,  and  knew  not  this  ; 

Haidee  was  Passion's  child,  born  where  the  Sun 
Showers  triple  light,  and  scorches  even  the  kiss 

Of  his  gazelle-eyed  daughters ;  she  was  one 
Made  but  to  love,  to  feel  that  she  was  his 

Who  was  her  chosen :  what  was  said  or  done 
Elsewhere  was  nothing.     She  had  nought  to  fear, 
Hope,  care,  nor  love,  beyond, — her  heart  beat  here. 

CCIII. 

And  oh  !  that  quickening  of  the  heart,  that  beat ! 

How  much  it  costs  us  !  yet  each  rising  throb 
Is  in  its  cause  as  its  effect  so  sweet, 

That  Wisdom,  ever  on  the  watch  to  rob 
Joy  of  its  alchemy,  and  to  repeat 

Fine  truths ;  even  Conscience,  too,  has  a  tough  job 
To  make  us  understand  each  good  old  maxim, 
So  good — I  wonder  Castlereagh  don't  tax  'em. 

cciv. 

And  now 't  was  done — on  the  lone  shore  were  plighted 
Their  hearts ;  the  stars,  their  nuptial  torches,  shed 

i.  Some  drown  themselves,  some  in  the  vices  grovel. — [MS.~\ 

i.  [Lady  Caroline  Lamb's  Glenatvon  was  published  in  1816.  For 
Byron's  farewell  letter  of  dismissal,  which  Lady  Caroline  embodied  in 
her  novel  (vol.  iii.  chap,  ix.),  see  Letters,  1898,  ii.  135,  note  i.  According 
to  Medwin  (Conversations,  1824,  p.  274),  Madame  de  Stael  catechized 
Byron  with  regard  to  the  relation  of  the  story  to  fact.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  139 

Beauty  upon  the  beautiful  they  lighted  : 

Ocean  their  witness,  and  the  cave  their  bed, 

By  their  own  feelings  hallowed  and  united, 
Their  priest  was  Solitude,  and  they  were  wed  :  '• 

And  they  were  happy — for  to  their  young  eyes 

Each  was  an  angel,  and  earth  Paradise. 

ccv. 
Oh,  Love  !  of  whom  great  Caesar  was  the  suitor, 

Titus  the  master,1  Antony  the  slave, 
Horace,  Catullus,  scholars — Ovid  tutor — 

Sappho  the  sage  blue-stocking,  in  whose  grave 
All  those  may  leap  who  rather  would  be  neuter — 

(Leucadia's  rock  still  overlooks  the  wave) — 
Oh,  Love  !  thou  art  the  very  God  of  evil, 
For,  after  all,  we  cannot  call  thee  Devil. 

ccvi. 
Thou  mak'st  the  chaste  connubial  state  precarious, 

And  jestest  with  the  brows  of  mightiest  men  : 
Caesar  and  Pompey,  Mahomet,  Belisarius,2 

Have  much  employed  the  Muse  of  History's  pen  : 
Their  lives  and  fortunes  were  extremely  various, 

Such  worthies  Time  will  never  see  again  ; 
Yet  to  these  four  in  three  things  the  same  luck  holds, 
They  all  were  heroes,  conquerors,  and  cuckolds. 

ccvn. 
Thou  mak'st  philosophers ;  there  's  Epicurus 

And  Aristippus,  a  material  crew  ! 
Who  to  immoral  courses  would  allure  us 

By  theories  quite  practicable  too  ; 

i.  In  their  sweet  feelings  hollly  united, 

By  Solitude  (soft  parson}  they  were  wed. — [AfS.~\ 

1.  [Titus  forebore  to  marry  "Incesta"  Berenice  (see  Juv.,  Sat.  vi. 
158),  the  daughter  of  Agrippa  I.,  and  wife  of  Herod,  King  of  Chalcis, 
out  of  regard  to  the  national  prejudice  against  intermarriage  with  an 
alien.] 

2.  [Cassar's  third  wife,  Pompeia,  was   suspected  of  infidelity  with 
Clodius  (see  Langhorne's  Plutarch,  1838,  p.  498) ;  Pompey's  third  wife, 
Mucia,  intrigued  with  Caesar  (vide  ibid,,  p.  447) ;  Mahomet's  favourite 
wife,  Ayesha,  on  one  occasion  incurred  suspicion ;  Antonina,  the  wife 
of  Belisarius,  was  notoriously  profligate  (see  Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall, 
1825,  iii.  432,  102).] 


140  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  n. 

If  only  from  the  Devil  they  would  insure  us, 

How  pleasant  were  the  maxim  (not  quite  new), 
"  Eat,  drink,  and  love,  what  can  the  rest  avail  us  ?  " 
So  said  the  royal  sage  Sardanapalus.1 

CCVIII. 

But  Juan  !  had  he  quite  forgotten  Julia  ? 

And  should  he  have  forgotten  her  so  soon  ? 
I  can't  but  say  it  seems  to  me  most  truly  a 

Perplexing  question ;  but,  no  doubt,  the  moon 
Does  these  things  for  us,  and  whenever  newly  a 

Strong  palpitation  rises,  't  is  her  boon, 
Else  how  the  devil  is  it  that  fresh  features 
Have  such  a  charm  for  us  poor  human  creatures  ? 

ccix. 
I  hate  inconstancy — I  loathe,  detest, 

Abhor,  condemn,  abjure  the  mortal  made 
Of  such  quicksilver  clay  that  in  his  breast 

No  permanent  foundation  can  be  laid ; 
Love,  constant  love,  has  been  my  constant  guest, 

And  yet  last  night,  being  at  a  masquerade, 
I  saw  the  prettiest  creature,  fresh  from  Milan, 
Which  gave  me  some  sensations  like  a  villain. 

ccx. 
But  soon  Philosophy  came  to  my  aid, 

And  whispered,  "  Think  of  every  sacred  tie  ! " 
"  I  will,  my  dear  Philosophy  !  "  I  said, 

"  But  then  her  teeth,  and  then,  oh,  Heaven  !  her  eye  ! 
I  '11  just  inquire  if  she  be  wife  or  maid, 

Or  neither — out  of  curiosity." 
"  Stop  !  "  cried  Philosophy,  with  air  so  Grecian, 
(Though  she  was  masqued  then  as  a  fair  Venetian ;) 

ccxi. 
"  Stop  ! "  so  I  stopped. — But  to  return  :  that  which 

Men  call  inconstancy  is  nothing  more 
Than  admiration  due  where  Nature's  rich 

Profusion  with  young  beauty  covers  o'er 

I.  [Compare  Sardanapalus,  act  i.  sc.  2,  line  252,  Poetical   Works, 
1901,  v.  23,  note  i.] 


CANTO  II.]  DON    JUAN.  141 

Some  favoured  object ;  and  as  in  the  niche 

A  lovely  statue  we  almost  adore, 
This  sort  of  adoration  of  the  real 
Is  but  a  heightening  of  the  beau  ideal. 

CCXII. 

'T  is  the  perception  of  the  Beautiful, 

A  fine  extension  of  the  faculties, 
Platonic,  universal,  wonderful, 

Drawn  from  the  stars,  and  filtered  through  the  skies, 
Without  which  Life  would  be  extremely  dull ; 

In  short,  it  is  the  use  of  our  own  eyes, 
With  one  or  two  small  senses  added,  just 
To  hint  that  flesh  is  formed  of  fiery  dust.'- 

CCXIII. 

Yet 't  is  a  painful  feeling,  and  unwilling, 

For  surely  if  we  always  could  perceive 
In  the  same  object  graces  quite  as  killing 

As  when  she  rose  upon  us  like  an  Eve, 
'T  would  save  us  many  a  heartache,  many  a  shilling, 

(For  we  must  get  them  anyhow,  or  grieve), 
Whereas  if  one  sole  lady  pleased  for  ever, 
How  pleasant  for  the  heart,  as  well  as  liver ! 

ccxiv. 
The  Heart  is  like  the  sky,  a  part  of  Heaven, 

But  changes  night  and  day,  too,  like  the  sky ; 
Now  o'er  it  clouds  and  thunder  must  be  driven, 

And  Darkness  and  Destruction  as  on  high  : 
But  when  it  hath  been  scorched,  and  pierced,  and  riven, 

Its  storms  expire  in  water-drops ;  the  eye 
Pours  forth  at  last  the  Heart's  blood  turned  to  tears, 
Which  make  the  English  climate  of  our  years. 

ccxv. 
The  liver  is  the  lazaret  of  bile, 

But  very  rarely  executes  its  function, 
For  the  first  passion  stays  there  such  a  while, 

That  all  the  rest  creep  in  and  form  a  junction, 

i. of  ticklish  dust. — [MS.     Alternative  reading.} 


M2  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ir. 

Like  knots  of  vipers  on  a  dunghill's  soil — l 

Rage,  fear,  hate,  jealousy,  revenge,  compunction — 
So  that  all  mischiefs  spring  up  from  this  entrail, 
Like  Earthquakes  from  the  hidden  fire  called  "  central." 

ccxvi. 
In  the  mean  time,  without  proceeding  more 

In  this  anatomy,  I  've  finished  now 
Two  hundred  and  odd  stanzas  as  before,'' 

That  being  about  the  number  I  '11  allow 
Each  canto  of  the  twelve,  or  twenty-four ; 

And,  laying  down  my  pen,  I  make  my  bow, 
Leaving  Don  Juan  and  Haidde  to  plead 
For  them  and  theirs  with  all  who  deign  to  read. 

i.   Two  hundred  stanzas  reckoned  as  before. — [A/5.] 

i.  £"  Mr.  Hobhouse  is  at  it  again  about  indelicacy.  There  is  no 
indelicacy.  If  he  wants  that,  let  him  read  Swift,  his  great  idol ;  but  his 
imagination  must  be  a  dunghill,  with  a  viper's  nest  in  the  middle,  to 
engender  such  a  supposition  about  this  poem." — Letter  to  Murray, 
May  15,  1819,  Letters,  1900,  iv.  295.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  143 


CANTO   THE   THIRD.1 


i. 

HAIL,  Muse  !  et  cetera. — We  left  Juan  sleeping, 
Pillowed  upon  a  fair  and  happy  breast, 

And  watched  by  eyes  that  never  yet  knew  weeping, 
And  loved  by  a  young  heart,  too  deeply  blest 

To  feel  the  poison  through  her  spirit  creeping, 
Or  know  who  rested  there,  a  foe  to  rest, 

Had  soiled  the  current  of  her  sinless  years, 

And  turned  her  pure  heart's  purest  blood  to  tears  ! 

ii. 
Oh,  Love  !  what  is  it  in  this  world  of  ours 

Which  makes  it  fatal  to  be  loved  ?     Ah  why 
With  cypress  branches  hast  thou  wreathed  thy  bowers, 

And  made  thy  best  interpreter  a  sigh  ? 
As  those  who  dote  on  odours  pluck  the  flowers, 

And  place  them  on  their  breast — but  place  to  die — 
Thus  the  frail  beings  we  would  fondly  cherish 
Are  laid  within  our  bosoms  but  to  perish. 

in. 

In  her  first  passion  Woman  loves  her  lover, 
In  all  the  others  all  she  loves  is  Love, 

i.  [November  30,  1819.  Copied  in  1820  (MS.  D. ).  Moore  (Life. 
421)  says  that  Byron  was  at  work  on  the  third  canto  when  he  stayed 
with  him  at  Venice,  in  October,  1819.  "  One  day,  before  dinner,  [he] 
read  me  two  or  three  hundred  lines  of  it ;  beginning  with  the  stanzas 
"  Oh  Wellington,"  etc.,  which,  at  the  time,  formed  the  opening  of  the 
third  canto,  but  were  afterwards  reserved  for  the  commencement  of 
the  ninth."  The  third  canto,  as  it  now  stands,  was  completed  by 
November  8,  1819 ;  see  Letters,  1900,  iv.  375.  The  date  on  the  MS. 
may  refer  to  the  first  fair  copy.] 


144  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  HI. 

Which  grows  a  habit  she  can  ne'er  get  over, 
And  fits  her  loosely — like  an  easy  glove,u 

As  you  may  find,  whene'er  you  like  to  prove  her : 
One  man  alone  at  first  her  heart  can  move ; 

She  then  prefers  him  in  the  plural  number, 

Not  finding  that  the  additions  much  encumber. 

IV. 

I  know  not  if  the  fault  be  men's  or  theirs ; 

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.1 

v. 

'T  is  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 ; 
Marriage  from  Love,  like  vinegar  from  wine — 

A  sad,  sour,  sober  beverage — by  Time 
Is  sharpened  from  its  high  celestial  flavour 
Down  to  a  very  homely  household  savour. 

VI. 

There  's  something  of  antipathy,  as  't  were, 
Between  their  present  and  their  future  state ; 

A  kind  of  flattery  that 's  hardly  fair 

Is  used  until  the  truth  arrives  too  late — 

Yet  what  can  people  do,  except  despair  ? 

The  same  things  change  their  names  at  such  a  rate  ; 

For  instance — Passion  in  a  lover  's  glorious, 

But  in  a  husband  is  pronounced  uxorious. 

i.  And  fits  her  like  a  stocking  or  a  glove. — [MS.  £>.] 

i.  ["  On  peut  trouver  des  femmes  qui  n'ont  janiais  eu  de  galanterie, 
mais  il  est  rare  d'en  trouver  qui  n'en  aient  jamais  eu  qu'une." — Reflexions 
.  .  .  du  Due  de  la  Rochefoucauld,  No.  Ixxiii. 

Byron  prefixed  the  maxim  as  a  motto  to  his  "  Ode  to  a  Lady  whose 
Lover  was  killed  by  a  Ball,  which  at  the  same  litre  shivered  a  Portrait 
next  his  Heart."—  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  552.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  145 

VII. 

Men  grow  ashamed  of  being  so  very  fond ; 

They  sometimes  also  get  a  little  tired 
(But  that,  of  course,  is  rare),  and  then  despond : 

The  same  things  cannot  always  be  admired, 
Yet 't  is  "  so  nominated  in  the  bond,"  l 

That  both  are  tied  till  one  shall  have  expired. 
Sad  thought !  to  lose  the  spouse  that  was  adorning 
Our  days,  and  put  one's  servants  into  mourning. 

VIII. 

There  's  doubtless  something  in  domestic  doings 
Which  forms,  in  fact,  true  Love's  antithesis ; 

Romances  paint  at  full  length  people's  wooings, 
But  only  give  a  bust  of  marriages ; 

For  no  one  cares  for  matrimonial  cooings, 
There  's  nothing  wrong  in  a  connubial  kiss  : 

Think  you,  if  Laura  had  been  Petrarch's  wife, 

He  would  have  written  sonnets  all  his  life  ?  '• 

IX. 

All  tragedies  are  finished  by  a  death, 

All  comedies  are  ended  by  a  marriage ; 
The  future  states  of  both  are  left  to  faith, 

For  authors  fear  description  might  disparage 
The  worlds  to  come  of  both,  or  fall  beneath, 

And  then  both  worlds  would  punish  their  miscarriage ; 
So  leaving  each  their  priest  and  prayer-book  ready, 
They  say  no  more  of  Death  or  of  the  Lady.2 

x. 

The  only  two  that  in  my  recollection, 

Have  sung  of  Heaven  and  Hell,  or  marriage,  are 

i.  Had  Petrarch's  passion  led  to  Petrarch's  wedding, 
How  many  sonnets  had  ensued  the  bedding  ? — [MS.  ] 

1.  [Merchant  of  Venice,  act  iv.  sc.  i,  line  254.] 

2.  [The  Ballad  of  "Death  and  the  Lady"  was  printed  in  a  small 
volume,  entitled  A  Guide  to  Heaven,  1736,  I2mo.     It  is  mentioned  in 
The   Vicar  of  Wakefteld  (chap,  xvii.),    Works  of  Oliver  Goldsmith, 
1854.  i.  369.     See  Old  English  Popular  Music,  by  William  Chappell, 
F.S.A. ,  1893,  ii.  170,  171.] 

VOL.  VI.  L 


146  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  HI. 

Dante  *  and  Milton,2  and  of  both  the  affection 
Was  hapless  in  their  nuptials,  for  some  bar 

Of  fault  or  temper  ruined  the  connection 

(Such  things,  in  fact,  it  don't  ask  much  to  mar) ; 

But  Dante's  Beatrice  and  Milton's  Eve 

Were  not  drawn  from  their  spouses,  you  conceive. 

XI. 

Some  persons  say  that  Dante  meant  Theology 

By  Beatrice,  and  not  a  mistress — I, 
Although  my  opinion  may  require  apology, 

Deem  this  a  commentator's  phantasy, 
Unless  indeed  it  was  from  his  own  knowledge  he 

Decided  thus,  and  showed  good  reason  why ; 
I  think  that  Dante's  more  abstruse  ecstatics 
Meant  to  personify  the  Mathematics.3 

XII. 

Haidee  and  Juan  were  not  married,  but 

The  fault  was  theirs,  not  mine :  it  is  not  fair, 

Chaste  reader,  then,  in  any  way  to  put 

The  blame  on  me,  unless  you  wish  they  were ; 

Then  if  you  'd  have  them  wedded,  please  to  shut 
The  book  which  treats  of  this  erroneous  pair, 

Before  the  consequences  grow  too  awful ; 

'T  is  dangerous  to  read  of  loves  unlawful. 

1.  [See    The  Prophecy  of  Dante,  Canto  I.  lines    172-174,   Poetical 
Works,  1901,  iv.  253,  note  I.] 

2.  Milton's  first  wife  ran  away  from  him  within  the  first  month.     If 
she  had  not, -what  would  John  Milton  have  done? 

[Mary  Powell  did  not  "  run  away,"  but  at  the  end  of  the  honeymoon 
obtained  her  husband's  consent  to  visit  her  family  at  Shotover,  "  upon 
a  promise  of  returning  at  Michaelmas."  "And  in  the  mean  while  his 
studies  went  on  very  vigorously  ;  and  his  chief  diversion,  after  the 
business  of  the  day,  was  now  and  then  in  an  evening  to  visit  the  Lady 
Margaret  Lee.  .  .  .  This  lady,  being  a  woman  of  excellent  wit  and 
understanding,  had  a  particular  honour  for  our  author,  and  took  great 
delight  in  his  conversation  ;  as  likewise  did  her  husband,  Captain 
Hobson."  See,  too,  his  sonnet  "To  the  Lady  Margaret  Ley." — The 
Life  of  Milton  (by  Thomas  Newton,  D.D.),  Paradise  Regained,  ed. 
(Baskerville),  1758,  pp.  xvii.,  xviii.] 

3.  ["Yesterday  a  very  pretty  letter  from   Annabella  .   .  .  She  is  a 
poetess — a  mathematician — a  metaphysician." — Journal  November  30, 
1813,  Letters,  1898,  ii.  357.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  147 

XIII. 

Yet  they  were  happy, — happy  in  the  illicit 

Indulgence  of  their  innocent  desires ; 
But  more  imprudent  grown  with  every  visit, 

Haide'e  forgot  the  island  was  her  Sire's ; 
When  we  have  what  we  like  't  is  hard  to  miss  it, 

At  least  in  the  beginning,  ere  one  tires ; 
Thus  she  came  often,  not  a  moment  losing, 
Whilst  her  piratical  papa  was  cruising. 

XIV. 

Let  not  his  mode  of  raising  cash  seem  strange, 
Although  he  fleeced  the  flags  of  every  nation, 

For  into  a  Prime  Minister  but  change 
His  title,  and  't  is  nothing  but  taxation ; 

But  he,  more  modest,  took  an  humbler  range 
Of  Life,  and  in  an  honester  vocation 

Pursued  o'er  the  high  seas  his  watery  journey ,i- 

And  merely  practised  as  a  sea-attorney. 

xv. 
The  good  old  gentleman  had  been  detained 

By  winds  and  waves,  and  some  important  captures  ; 
And,  in  the  hope  of  more,  at  sea  remained, 

Although  a  squall  or  two  had  damped  his  raptures, 
By  swamping  one  of  the  prizes ;  he  had  chained 

His  prisoners,  dividing  them  like  chapters 
In  numbered  lots ;  they  all  had  cuffs  and  collars, 
And  averaged  each  from  ten  to  a  hundred  dollars. 

XVI. 

Some  he  disposed  of  off  Cape  Matapan, 

Among  his  friends  the  Mainots  ;  some  he  sold 

To  his  Tunis  correspondents,  save  one  man 
Tossed  overboard  unsaleable  (being  old) ; 

The  rest — save  here  and  there  some  richer  one, 
Reserved  for  future  ransom — in  the  hold, 

Were  linked  alike,  as,  for  the  common  people,  he 

Had  a  large  order  from  the  Dey  of  Tripoli. 

i.  Displayed  muck  more  of  nerve,  perhaps,  of  wit, 
Than  any  of  the  parodies  of  Pitt. — \_MS.\ 


148  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

XVII. 

The  merchandise  was  served  in  the  same  way, 
Pieced  out  for  different  marts  in  the  Levant, 

Except  some  certain  portions  of  the  prey, 
Light  classic  articles  of  female  want, 

French  stuffs,  lace,  tweezers,  toothpicks,  teapot,  tray,1 
Guitars  and  castanets  from  Alicant, 

All  which  selected  from  the  spoil  he  gathers, 

Robbed  for  his  daughter  by  the  best  of  fathers. 

XVIII. 

A  monkey,  a  Dutch  mastiff,  a  mackaw,1 

Two  parrots,  with  a  Persian  cat  and  kittens, 

He  chose  from  several  animals  he  saw — 

A  terrier,  too,  which  once  had  been  a  Briton's, 

Who  dying  on  the  coast  of  Ithaca, 

The  peasants  gave  the  poor  dumb  thing  a  pittance  : 

These  to  secure  in  this  strong  blowing  weather, 

He  caged  in  one  huge  hamper  altogether. 

XIX. 

Then,  having  settled  his  marine  affairs, 
Despatching  single  cruisers  here  and  there, 

His  vessel  having  need  of  some  repairs, 

He  shaped  his  course  to  where  his  daughter  fair 

Continued  still  her  hospitable  cares ; 

But  that  part  of  the  coast  being  shoal  and  bare, 

And  rough  with  reefs  which  ran  out  many  a  mile, 

His  port  lay  on  the  other  side  o'  the  isle. 

xx. 

And  there  he  went  ashore  without  delay, 
Having  no  custom-house  nor  quarantine 

To  ask  him  awkward  questions  on  the  way, 
About  the  time  and  place  where  he  had  been  : 

He  left  his  ship  to  be  hove  down  next  day, 
With  orders  to  the  people  to  careen ; 

i.  toothpicks,  a  bidet.— [MS.     Alternative  reading.'] 

"Dr.  Murray — As  you  are  squeamish  you  may  put  'teapot,  tray,' 
in  case  the  other  piece  of  feminine  furniture  frightens  you. — B." 

i.  [For  Byron's  menagerie,  see  Werner,  acti.  sc.  i,  line  216,  Poetical 
Works,  1902,  v.  348,  note  i.] 


i 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  149 

So  that  all  hands  were  busy  beyond  measure, 
In  getting  out  goods,  ballast,  guns,  and  treasure. 

XXI. 

Arriving  at  the  summit  of  a  hill 

Which  overlooked  the  white  walls  of  his  home, 
He  stopped. — What  singular  emotions  fill 

Their  bosoms  who  have  been  induced  to  roam  ! 
With  fluttering  doubts  if  all  be  well  or  ill — 

With  love  for  many,  and  with  fears  for  some ; 
All  feelings  which  o'erleap  the  years  long  lost, 
And  bring  our  hearts  back  to  their  starting-post. 

xxn. 
The  approach  of  home  to  husbands  and  to  sires, 

After  long  travelling  by  land  or  water, 
Most  naturally  some  small  doubt  inspires — 

A  female  family  's  a  serious  matter, 
(None  trusts  the  sex  more,  or  so  much  admires — 

But  they  hate  flattery,  so  I  never  flatter) ; 
Wives  in  their  husbands'  absences  grow  subtler, 
And  daughters  sometimes  run  off  with  the  butler. 

XXIII. 

An  honest  gentleman  at  his  return 

May  not  have  the  good  fortune  of  Ulysses ; 

Not  all  lone  matrons  for  their  husbands  mourn, 
Or  show  the  same  dislike  to  suitors'  kisses  ; 

The  odds  are  that  he  finds  a  handsome  urn 

To  his  memory — and  two  or  three  young  misses 

Born  to  some  friend,  who  holds  his  wife  and  riches — 

And  that  his  Argus 1 — bites  him  by  the  breeches. 

XXIV. 

If  single,  probably  his  plighted  Fair 

Has  in  his  absence  wedded  some  rich  miser ; 

i.  ["  But  as  for  canine  recollections  ...  I  had  one  (half  a  wolf  by 
the  she-side)  that  doted  on  me  at  ten  years  old,  and  very  nearly  ate  me 
at  twenty.  When  I  thought  he  was  going  to  enact  Argus,  he  bit  away 
the  backside  of  my  breeches,  and  never  would  consent  to  any  kind  of 
recognition,  in  despite  of  all  kinds  of  bones  which  I  offered  him." — 
Letter  to  Moore,  January  19,  1815,  Letters,  1899,  iii.  171,  172.  Com- 
pare, too,  Childe  Harold,  Canto  I.  Song,  stanza  ix.,  Poetical  Works, 
1899,  ii.  30.] 


150  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

But  all  the  better,  for  the  happy  pair 

May  quarrel,  and,  the  lady  growing  wiser, 

He  may  resume  his  amatory  care 
As  cavalier  servente,  or  despise  her ; 

And  that  his  sorrow  may  not  be  a  dumb  one, 

Writes  odes  on  the  Inconstancy  of  Woman. 

XXV. 

And  oh  !  ye  gentlemen  who  have  already 
Some  chaste  liaison  of  the  kind — I  mean 

An  honest  friendship  with  a  married  lady — 
The  only  thing  of  this  sort  ever  seen 

To  last — of  all  connections  the  most  steady, 

And  the  true  Hymen,  (the  first 's  but  a  screen) — 

Yet,  for  all  that,  keep  not  too  long  away — 

I  've  known  the  absent  wronged  four  times  a  day.'- 

XXVI. 

Lambro,  our  sea-solicitor,  who  had 

Much  less  experience  of  dry  land  than  Ocean, 

On  seeing  his  own  chimney-smoke,  felt  glad ; 
But  not  knowing  metaphysics,  had  no  notion 

Of  the  true  reason  of  his  not  being  sad, 
Or  that  of  any  other  strong  emotion  ; 

He  loved  his  child,  and  would  have  wept  the  loss  of  her, 

But  knew  the  cause  no  more  than  a  philosopher. 

XXVII. 

He  saw  his  white  walls  shining  in  the  sun, 
His  garden  trees  all  shadowy  and  green ; 

He  heard  his  rivulet's  light  bubbling  run, 

The  distant  dog-bark ;  and  perceived  between 

The  umbrage  of  the  wood,  so  cool  and  dun, 
The  moving  figures,  and  the  sparkling  sheen 

Of  arms  (in  the  East  all  arm) — and  various  dyes 

Of  coloured  garbs,  as  bright  as  butterflies. 

XXVIII. 

And  as  the  spot  where  they  appear  he  nears, 
Surprised  at  these  unwonted  signs  of  idling, 

i.    Yet  for  all  that  don't  stay  away  too  long, 
A  sofa,  like  a  bed,  may  come  by  wrong. — [MS.] 
I've  known  the  friend  betrayed . — [MS.  D.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  1$! 

He  hears — alas  !  no  music  of  the  spheres, 
But  an  unhallowed,  earthly  sound  of  fiddling ! 

A  melody  which  made  him  doubt  his  ears, 

The  cause  being  past  his  guessing  or  unriddling ; 

A  pipe,  too,  and  a  drum,  and  shortly  after — 

A  most  unoriental  roar  of  laughter. 

XXIX. 

And  still  more  nearly  to  the  place  advancing, 

Descending  rather  quickly  the  declivity, 
Through  the  waved  branches  o'er  the  greensward  glancing, 

'Midst  other  indications  of  festivity, 
Seeing  a  troop  of  his  domestics  dancing 

Like  Dervises,  who  turn  as  on  a  pivot,  he 
Perceived  it  was  the  Pyrrhic  dance l  so  martial, 
To  which  the  Levantines  are  very  partial. 

xxx. 
And  further  on  a  troop  of  Grecian  girls,2 

The  first  and  tallest  her  white  kerchief  waving, 
Were  strung  together  like  a  row  of  pearls, 

Linked  hand  in  hand,  and  dancing ;  each  too  having 
Down  her  white  neck  long  floating  auburn  curls — 

(The  least  of  which  would  set  ten  poets  raving) ;  '• 

i.    That  would  have  set  Tom  Moore,  though  married,  raving,  — [MS.  ] 

1.  [The  Pyrrhic  war-dance  represented  "by  rapid  movements  of  the 
body,  the  way  in  which  missiles  and  blows  from  weapons  were  avoided, 
and  also  the  mode  in  which  the  enemy  was  attacked  "  (Diet,  of  Ant.). 
Dodwell  (Tour  through   Greece,    1819,    ii.    21,    22)  observes    that   in 
Thessaly  and  Macedon  dances  are  performed  at  the  present  day  by  men 
armed  with  their  musket  and  sword.     See,  too,   Hobhouse's  descrip- 
tion (Travels  in  Albania,  1858,  i.  166,  167)  of  the  Albanian  war-dance 
at  Loutraki.] 

2.  ["Their  manner  of  dancing  is  certainly  the  same  that  Diana  is 
sung  to  have  danced  on  the  banks  of  Eurotas.     The  great  lady  still 
leads  the  dance,  and  is  followed  by  a  troop  of  young  girls,  who  imitate 
her  steps,  and,  if  she  sings,  make  up  the  chorus.     The  tunes  are  ex- 
tremely gay  and  lively,  yet  with  something  in  them  wonderfully  soft. 
The  steps  are  varied  according  to  the  pleasure  of  her  that  leads  the 
dance,  but  always  in  exact  time,  and  infinitely  more  agreeable  than 
any  of  our  dances." — Lady  M.  W.  Montagu  to  Pope,  April  i,  O.S., 
1817,  Letters,  etc.,  1816,  p.  138.     The  "kerchief-waving"  dance  is  the 
Romaika.      See  The   Waltz,  line    125,  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  492, 
note  i.     See,  too,  Voyage  Pitloresque  ...  by  the  Comte  de  Choiseul- 
Gouffier,  1782,  vol.  i.  Planche,  33.] 


152  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

Their  leader  sang — and  bounded  to  her  song 
With  choral  step  and  voice  the  virgin  throng. 

XXXI. 

And  here,  assembled  cross-legged  round  their  trays, 

Small  social  parties  just  begun  to  dine ; 
Pilaus  and  meats  of  all  sorts  met  the  gaze, 

And  flasks  of  Samian  and  of  Chian  wine, 
And  sherbet  cooling  in  the  porous  vase ; 

Above  them  their  dessert  grew  on  its  vine ; — 
The  orange  and  pomegranate  nodding  o'er, 
Dropped  in  their  laps,  scarce  plucked,  their  mellow  store. 

XXXII. 

A  band  of  children,  round  a  snow-white  ram,1 
There  wreathe  his  venerable  horns  with  flowers ; 

While  peaceful  as  if  still  an  unweaned  lamb, 
The  patriarch  of  the  flock  all  gently  cowers 

His  sober  head,  majestically  tame, 

Or  eats  from  out  the  palm,  or  playful  lowers 

His  brow,  as  if  in  act  to  butt,  and  then 

Yielding  to  their  small  hands,  draws  back  again. 

XXXIII. 

Their  classical  profiles,  and  glittering  dresses, 
Their  large  black  eyes,  and  soft  seraphic  cheeks, 

Crimson  as  cleft  pomegranates,  their  long  tresses, 
The  gesture  which  enchants,  the  eye  that  speaks, 

The  innocence  which  happy  childhood  blesses, 
Made  quite  a  picture  of  these  little  Greeks ; 

So  that  the  philosophical  beholder 

Sighed  for  their  sakes — that  they  should  e'er  grow  older. 

xxxiv. 
Afar,  a  dwarf  buffoon  stood  telling  tales 

To  a  sedate  grey  circle  of  old  smokers, 
Of  secret  treasures  found  in  hidden  vales, 

Of  wonderful  replies  from  Arab  jokers, 

i.  ["  Upon  the  whole,  I  think  the  part  of  Don  Juan  in  which 
Lambro's  return  to  his  home,  and  Lambro  himself  are  described,  is  the 
best,  that  is,  the  most  individual,  thing  in  all  I  know  of  Lord  B.'s 
works.  The  festal  abandonment  puts  one  in  mind  of  Nicholas 
Poussin's  pictures."—  Table  7a/£ofS.  T.  Coleridge,  June  7,  1824.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON    JUAN.  1 53 

Of  charms  to  make  good  gold  and  cure  bad  ails, 
Of  rocks  bewitched  that  open  to  the  knockers, 
Of  magic  ladies  who,  by  one  sole  act, 
Transformed  their  lords  to  beasts  (but  that 's  a  fact). 

xxxv. 
Here  was  no  lack  of  innocent  diversion 

For  the  imagination  or  the  senses, 
Song,  dance,  wine,  music,  stories  from  the  Persian, 

All  pretty  pastimes  in  which  no  offence  is ; 
But  Lambro  saw  all  these  things  with  aversion, 

Perceiving  in  his  absence  such  expenses, 
Dreading  that  climax  of  all  human  ills, 
The  inflammation  of  his  weekly  bills. 

xxxvi. 
Ah  !  what  is  man  ?  what  perils  still  environ l 

The  happiest  mortals  even  after  dinner  ! 
A  day  of  gold  from  out  an  age  of  iron 

Is  all  that  Life  allows  the  luckiest  sinner ; 
Pleasure  (whene'er  she  sings,  at  least)  's  a  Siren, 

That  lures,  to  flay  alive,  the  young  beginner ; 
Lambro's  reception  at  his  people's  banquet 
Was  such  as  fire  accords  to  a  wet  blanket. 

XXXVII. 

He — being  a  man  who  seldom  used  a  word 
Too  much,  and  wishing  gladly  to  surprise 

(In  general  he  surprised  men  with  the  sword) 
His  daughter — had  not  sent  before  to  advise 

Of  his  arrival,  so  that  no  one  stirred ; 
And  long  he  paused  to  re-assure  his  eyes, 

In  fact  much  more  astonished  than  delighted, 

To  find  so  much  good  company  invited. 

i.  [Compare  Hudibras,  Part  I.  canto  iii.  lines  i.  2 — 

' '  Ay  me  !  what  perils  do  environ 
The  man  that  meddles  with  cold  iron  !  " 

Byron's  friend,  C.  S.  Matthews,  shouted  these  lines,  con  intenzione, 
under  the  windows  of  a  Cambridge  tradesman  named  Hiron,  who  had 
been  instrumental  in  the  expulsion  from  the  University  of  Sir  Henry 
Smyth,  a  riotous  undergraduate.  (See  letter  to  Murray,  October  19, 
1820.)] 


154  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

XXXVIII. 

He  did  not  know  (alas  !  how  men  will  lie) 

That  a  report  (especially  the  Greeks) 
Avouched  his  death  (such  people  never  die), 

And  put  his  house  in  mourning  several  weeks, — 
But  now  their  eyes  and  also  lips  were  dry ; 

The  bloom,  too,  had  returned  to  Haidee's  cheeks : 
Her  tears,  too,  being  returned  into  their  fount, 
She  now  kept  house  upon  her  own  account. 

XXXIX. 

Hence  all  this  rice,  meat,  dancing,  wine,  and  riddling, 
Which  turned  the  isle  into  a  place  of  pleasure ; 

The  servants  all  were  getting  drunk  or  idling, 
A  life  which  made  them  happy  beyond  measure. 

Her  father's  hospitality  seemed  middling, 

Compared  with  what  Haidee  did  with  his  treasure; 

'T  was  wonderful  how  things  went  on  improving, 

While  she  had  not  one  hour  to  spare  from  loving.1- 

XL. 
Perhaps  you  think,  in  stumbling  on  this  feast, 

He  flew  into  a  passion,  and  in  fact 
There  was  no  mighty  reason  to  be  pleased ; 

Perhaps  you  prophesy  some  sudden  act, 
The  whip,  the  rack,  or  dungeon  at  the  least, 

To  teach  his  people  to  be  more  exact, 
And  that,  proceeding  at  a  very  high  rate, 
He  showed  the  royal  penchants  of  a  pirate. 

XLI. 
You're  wrong. — He  was  the  mildest  mannered  man 

That  ever  scuttled  ship  or  cut  a  throat ; 
With  such  true  breeding  of  a  gentleman, 

You  never  could  divine  his  real  thought ; 
No  courtier  could,  and  scarcely  woman  can 

Gird  more  deceit  within  a  petticoat ; 
Pity  he  loved  adventurous  life's  variety, 
He  was  so  great  a  loss  to  good  society. 

i.  All  had  been  open  heart,  and  open  house, 

Ever  since  Juan  served  her  for  a  spouse, — [MS.~\ 


CANTO  III.]  DON  JUAN.  155 

XLII. 

Advancing  to  the  nearest  dinner  tray, 

Tapping  the  shoulder  of  the  nighest  guest, 

With  a  peculiar  smile,  which,  by  the  way, 
Boded  no  good,  whatever  it  expressed, 

He  asked  the  meaning  of  this  holiday ; 

The  vinous  Greek  to  whom  he  had  addressed 

His  question,  much  too  merry  to  divine 

The  questioner,  filled  up  a  glass  of  wine, 

XLIII. 
And  without  turning  his  facetious  head, 

Over  his  shoulder,  with  a  Bacchant  air, 
Presented  the  o'erflowing  cup,  and  said, 

"  Talking  's  dry  work,  I  have  no  time  to  spare." 
A  second  hiccuped,  "  Our  old  Master  's  dead, 

You  'd  better  ask  our  Mistress  who  's  his  heir." 
"  Our   Mistress  !  "   quoth   a   third  :    "  Our   Mistress  ! — 

pooh ! — 
You  mean  our  Master — not  the  old,  but  new." 

XLIV. 
These  rascals,  being  new  comers,  knew  not  whom 

They  thus  addressed — and  Lambro's  visage  fell — 
And  o'er  his  eye  a  momentary  gloom 

Passed,  but  he  strove  quite  courteously  to  quell 
The  expression,  and  endeavouring  to  resume 

His  smile,  requested  one  of  them  to  tell 
The  name  and  quality  of  his  new  patron, 
Who  seemed  to  have  turned  Haide'e  into  a  matron. 

XLV. 
"  I  know  not,"  quoth  the  fellow,  "  who  or  what 

He  is,  nor  whence  he  came — and  little  care  ; 
But  this  I  know,  that  this  roast  capon  's  fat, 

And  that  good  wine  ne'er  washed  down  better  fare ; 
And  if  you  are  not  satisfied  with  that, 

Direct  your  questions  to  my  neighbour  there ; 
He  '11  answer  all  for  better  or  for  worse, 
For  none  likes  more  to  hear  himself  converse."  l 

i.  ["  Rispose  allor  Margutte  :  a  dirtel  tosto, 

lo  non  credo  piii  al  nero  ch'  all'  azzurro  ; 


6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

XLVI. 
I  said  that  Lambro  was  a  man  of  patience, 

And  certainly  he  showed  the  best  of  breeding, 
Which  scarce  even  France,  the  Paragon  of  nations, 

E'er  saw  her  most  polite  of  sons  exceeding ; 
He  bore  these  sneers  against  his  near  relations, 

His  own  anxiety,  his  heart,  too,  bleeding, 
The  insults,  too,  of  every  servile  glutton, 
Who  all  the  time  was  eating  up  his  mutton. 

XLVII. 
Now  in  a  person  used  to  much  command — 

To  bid  men  come,  and  go,  and  come  again — 
To  see  his  orders  done,  too,  out  of  hand — 

Whether  the  word  was  death,  or  but  the  chain — 
It  may  seem  strange  to  find  his  manners  bland ; 

Yet  such  things  are,  which  I  cannot  explain, 
Though,  doubtless,  he  who  can  command  himself 
Is  good  to  govern — almost  as  a  Guelf. 

XLVIII. 
Not  that  he  was  not  sometimes  rash  or  so, 

But  never  in  his  real  and  serious  mood ; 
Then  calm,  concentrated,  and  still,  and  slow, 

He  lay  coiled  like  the  Boa  in  the  wood ; 
With  him  it  never  was  a  word  and  blow, 

His  angry  word  once  o'er,  he  shed  no  blood, 
But  in  his  silence  there  was  much  to  rue, 
And  his  one  blow  left  little  work  for  two. 

XLIX. 
He  asked  no  further  questions,  and  proceeded 

On  to  the  house,  but  by  a  private  way, 
So  that  the  few  who  met  him  hardly  heeded, 

So  little  they  expected  him  that  day ; 

Ma  nel  cappone,  o  lesso,  o  vuogli  arrosto, 
E  credo  alcuna  volta  anche  nel  burro ; 
Nella  cervogia,  e  quando  io  n'  ho  nel  mosto, 
E  molto  piii  nell'  aspro  che  il  mangurro ; 
Ma  sopra  tutto  nel  buon  vino  ho  fede, 
E  credo  che  sia  salvo  chi  gli  crede." 

Pulci,  Morgante  Maggwre,  Canto  XVIII.  stanza  cxv. 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  157 

If  love  paternal  in  his  bosom  pleaded 

For  Haidee's  sake,  is  more  than  I  can  say, 
But  certainly  to  one  deemed  dead  returning, 
This  revel  seemed  a  curious  mode  of  mourning. 

L. 
If  all  the  dead  could  now  return  to  life, 

(Which  God  forbid  !)  or  some,  or  a  great  many, 
For  instance,  if  a  husband  or  his  wife  '• 

(Nuptial  examples  are  as  good  as  any), 
No  doubt  whate'er  might  be  their  former  strife, 

The  present  weather  would  be  much  more  rainy — 
Tears  shed  into  the  grave  of  the  connection 
Would  share  most  probably  its  resurrection. 

LI. 
He  entered  in  the  house  no  more  his  home, 

A  thing  to  human  feelings  the  most  trying, 
And  harder  for  the  heart  to  overcome, 

Perhaps,  than  even  the  mental  pangs  of  dying ; 
To  find  our  hearthstone  turned  into  a  tomb, 

And  round  its  once  warm  precincts  palely  lying 
The  ashes  of  our  hopes,  is  a  deep  grief, 
Beyond  a  single  gentleman's  belief. 

LII. 
He  entered  in  the  house — his  home  no  more, 

For  without  hearts  there  is  no  home ; — and  felt 
The  solitude  of  passing  his  own  door 

Without  a  welcome  :  there  he  long  had  dwelt, 
There  his  few  peaceful  days  Time  had  swept  o'er, 

There  his  worn  bosom  and  keen  eye  would  melt 
Over  the  innocence  of  that  sweet  child, 
His  only  shrine  of  feelings  undefiled. 

LIII. 
He  was  a  man  of  a  strange  temperament. 

Of  mild  demeanour  though  of  savage  mood, 
Moderate  in  all  his  habits,  and  content 

With  temperance  in  pleasure,  as  in  food, 

i.  For  instance,  if  a  first  or  second  wife. 


158  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

Quick  to  perceive,  and  strong  to  bear,  and  meant 

For  something  better,  if  not  wholly  good ; 
His  Country's  wrongs  and  his  despair  to  save  her 
Had  stung  him  from  a  slave  to  an  enslaver. 

LIV. 

The  love  of  power,  and  rapid  gain  of  gold, 
The  hardness  by  long  habitude  produced, 

The  dangerous  life  in  which  he  had  grown  old, 
The  mercy  he  had  granted  oft  abused, 

The  sights  he  was  accustomed  to  behold, 

The  wild  seas,  and  wild  men  with  whom  he  cruised, 

Had  cost  his  enemies  a  long  repentance, 

And  made  him  a  good  friend,  but  bad  acquaintance. 

LV. 
But  something  of  the  spirit  of  old  Greece 

Flashed  o'er  his  soul  a  few  heroic  rays, 
Such  as  lit  onward  to  the  Golden  Fleece 

His  predecessors  in  the  Colchian  days ; 
'T  is  true  he  had  no  ardent  love  for  peace — 

Alas  !  his  country  showed  no  path  to  praise : 
Hate  to  the  world  and  war  with  every  nation 
He  waged,  in  vengeance  of  her  degradation. 

LVI. 
Still  o'er  his  mind  the  influence  of  the  clime 

Shed  its  Ionian  elegance,  which  showed 
Its  power  unconsciously  full  many  a  time, — 

A  taste  seen  in  the  choice  of  his  abode, 
A  love  of  music  and  of  scenes  sublime, 

A  pleasure  in  the  gentle  stream  that  flowed 
Past  him  in  crystal,  and  a  joy  in  flowers, 
Bedewed  his  spirit  in  his  calmer  hours. 

LVII. 
But  whatsoe'er  he  had  of  love  reposed 

On  that  beloved  daughter ;  she  had  been 
The  only  thing  which  kept  his  heart  unclosed 

Amidst  the  savage  deeds  he  had  done  and  seen, 
A  lonely  pure  affection  unopposed : 

There  wanted  but  the  loss  of  this  to  wean 


CANTO  III.]  DON    JUAN.  159 

His  feelings  from  all  milk  of  human  kindness, 

And  turn  him  like  the  Cyclops  mad  with  blindness.'- 

LVIII. 
The  cubless  tigress  in  her  jungle  raging 

Is  dreadful  to  the  shepherd  and  the  flock ; 
The  Ocean  when  its  yeasty  war  is  waging 

Is  awful  to  the  vessel  near  the  rock ; 
But  violent  things  will  sooner  bear  assuaging, 

Their  fury  being  spent  by  its  own  shock, 
Than  the  stern,  single,  deep,  and  wordless  ire  "• 
Of  a  strong  human  heart,  and  in  a  Sire. 

LIX. 
It  is  a  hard  although  a  common  case 

To  find  our  children  running  restive — they 
In  whom  our  brightest  days  we  would  retrace, 

Our  little  selves  re-formed  in  finer  clay, 
Just  as  old  age  is  creeping  on  apace, 

And  clouds  come  o'er  the  sunset  of  our  day, 
They  kindly  leave  us,  though  not  quite  alone, 
But  in  good  company — the  gout  or  stone. 

LX. 
Yet  a  fine  family  is  a  fine  thing 

(Provided  they  don't  come  in  after  dinner) ; 
'T  is  beautiful  to  see  a  matron  bring 

Her  children  up  (if  nursing  them  don't  thin  her) ; 
Like  cherubs  round  an  altar-piece  they  cling 

To  the  fire-side  (a  sight  to  touch  a  sinner). 
A  lady  with  her  daughters  or  her  nieces 
Shine  like  a  guinea  and  seven-shilling  pieces. 

LXI. 

Old  Lambro  passed  unseen  a  private  gate, 
And  stood  within  his  hall  at  eventide ; 

Meantime  the  lady  and  her  lover  sate 

At  wassail  in  their  beauty  and  their  pride : 

t.  And  send  him  forth  like  Samson  strong  in  blindness. — [MS.  D.] 

And  make  him  Samson-like — more  fierce  with  blindness. — [MS.  M.~\ 
»  ii.  Not  so  the  single,  deep,  and  -wordless  ire, 
Of  a  strong  human  heart . — [MS.] 


160  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

An  ivory  inlaid  table  spread  with  state 

Before  them,  and  fair  slaves  on  every  side  ; l 

i.  ["Almost  all  Don  Juan  is  real  life,  either  my  own,  or  from  people 
I  knew.  By  the  way,  much  of  the  description  of  the  furniture,  in 
Canto  Third,  is  taken  from  Tully's  Tripoli  (pray  note  this],  and  the 
rest  from  my  own  observation.  Remember,  I  never  meant  to  conceal 
this  at  all,  and  have  only  not  stated  it,  because  Don  Juan  had  no 
preface,  nor  name  to  it."— Letter  to  Murray,  August  23,  1821,  Letters, 
1901,  v.  346. 

The  first  edition  of  "Tully's  Tripoli"  is  entitled  Narrative  of 
a  Ten  Years'  Residence  in  Tripoli  In  Africa:  From  the  original 
correspondence  in  the  possession  of  the  Family  of  the  late  Richard 
Tully,  Esq.,  the  British  Consul,  1816,  4to.  The  book  is  in  the  form 
of  letters  (so  says  the  Preface]  written  by  the  Consul's  sister.  The 
description  of  Haidee's  dress  is  taken  from  the  account  of  a  visit  to 
Lilla  Kebbiera,  the  wife  of  the  Bashaw  (p.  30) ;  the  description  of  the 
furniture  and  refreshments  from  the  account  of  a  visit  to  "  Lilla 
Amnani,"  Hadgi  Abderrahmam's  Greek  wife  (pp.  132-137).  It  is 
evident  that  the  "Chiel"  who  took  these  "notes"  was  the  Consul's 
sister,  not  the  Consul :  "  Lilla  Aisha,  the  Bey's  wife,  is  thought  to  be 
very  sensible,  though  rather  haughty.  Her  apartments  were  grand, 
and  herself  superbly  habited.  Her  chemise  was  covered  with  gold 
embroidery  at  the  neck  ;  over  it  she  wore  a  gold  and  silver  tissue  jileck, 
or  jacket  without  sleeves,  and  over  that  another  of  purple  velvet  richly 
laced  with  gold,  with  coral  and  pearl  buttons  set  quite  close  together 
down  the  front ;  it  had  short  sleeves  finished  with  a  gold  band  not 
far  below  the  shoulder,  and  discovered  a  wide  loose  chemise  of  trans- 
parent gauze,  with  gold,  silver,  and  ribband  strips.  She  wore  round 
her  ancles  ...  a  sort  of  fetter  made  of  a  thick  bar  of  gold  so  fine 
that  they  bound  it  round  the  leg  with  one  hand  ;  it  is  an  inch  and  a 
half  wide,  and  as  much  in  thickness  :  each  of  these  weighs  four  pounds. 
Just  above  this  a  band  three  inches  wide  of  gold  thread  finished  the 
ends  of  a  pair  of  trousers  made  of  pale  yellow  and  white  silk." 

Page  132.  "  [Lilla]  rose  to  take  coffee,  which  was  served  in  very  small 
china  cups,  placed  in  silver  filigree  cups ;  and  gold  filigree  cups  were 
put  under  those  presented  to  the  married  ladies.  They  had  introduced 
cloves,  cinnamon,  and  saffron  into  the  coffee,  which  was  abundantly 
sweetened ;  but  this  mixture  was  very  soon  changed,  and  replaced  by 
excellent  simple  coffee  for  the  European  ladies.  ..." 

Page  133.  "The  Greek  then  shewed  us  the  gala  furniture  of  her  own 
room.  .  .  .  The  hangings  of  the  room  were  of  tapestry,  made  in 
pannels  of  different  coloured  velvets,  thickly  inlaid  with  flowers  of  silk 
damask ;  a  yellow  border,  of  about  a  foot  in  depth,  finished  the 
tapestry  at  top  and  bottom,  the  upper  border  being  embroidered  with 
Moorish  sentences  from  the  Koran  in  lilac  letters.  The  carpet  was  of 
crimson  satin,  with  a  deep  border  of  pale  blue  quilted  ;  this  is  laid  over 
Indian  mats  and  other  carpets.  In  the  best  part  of  the  room  the  sofa 
is  placed,  which  occupies  three  sides  in  an  alcove,  the  floor  of  which  is 
raised.  The  sofa  and  the  cushions  that  lay  around  were  of  crimson 
velvet,  the  centre  cushions  were  embroidered  with  a  sun  in  gold  of 
highly  embossed  work,  the  rest  were  of  gold  and  silver  tissue.  The 
curtains  of  the  alcove  were  made  to  match  those  before  the  bed.  A 
number  of  looking-glasses,  and  a  profusion  of  fine  china  and  chrystal 
completed  the  ornaments  and  furniture  of  the  room,  in  which  were 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  1 6 1 

Gems,  gold,  and  silver,  formed  the  service  mostly, 
Mother  of  pearl  and  coral  the  less  costly. 

LXII. 

The  dinner  made  about  a  hundred  dishes  ; 

Lamb  and  pistachio  nuts — in  short,  all  meats, 
And  saffron  soups,  and  sweetbreads ;  and  the  fishes 

Were  of  the  finest  that  e'er  flounced  in  nets, 
Dressed  to  a  Sybarite's  most  pampered  wishes ; 

The  beverage  was  various  sherbets 
Of  raisin,  orange,  and  pomegranate  juice, 
Squeezed  through  the  rind,  which  makes  it  best  for  use. 

LXIII. 
These  were  ranged  round,  each  in  its  crystal  ewer, 

And  fruits,  and  date-bread  loaves  closed  the  repast, 
And  Mocha's  berry,  from  Arabia  pure, 

In  small  fine  China  cups,  came  in  at  last ; 
Gold  cups  of  filigree,  made  to  secure 

The  hand  from  burning,  underneath  them  placed ; 
Cloves,  cinnamon,  and  saffron  too  were  boiled 
Up  with  the  coffee,  which  (I  think)  they  spoiled. 

LXIV. 

The  hangings  of  the  room  were  tapestry,  made 
Of  velvet  panels,  each  of  different  hue, 

neither  tables  nor  chairs.  A  small  table,  about  six  inches  high,  is 
brought  in  when  refreshments  are  served  ;  it  is  of  ebony,  inlaid  with 
mother-of-pearl,  tortoiseshell,  ivory,  gold  and  silver,  of  choice  woods,  or 
of  plain  mahogany,  according  to  the  circumstances  of  the  proprietor." 

Page  136.  "  On  the  tables  were  placed  all  sorts  of  refreshments,  and 
thirty  or  forty  dishes  of  meat  and  poultry,  dressed  different  ways ; 
there  were  no  knives  nor  forks,  and  only  a  few  spoons  of  gold,  silver, 
ivory,  or  coral.  ..." 

Page  137.  "The  beverage  was  various  sherbets,  some  composed  of 
the  juice  of  boiled  raisins,  very  sweet  ;  some  of  the  juice  of  pome- 
granates squeezed  through  the  rind ;  and  others  of  the  pure  juice  of 
oranges.  These  sherbets  were  copiously  supplied  in  high  glass  ewers, 
placed  in  great  numbers  on  the  ground.  .  .  .  After  the  dishes  of  meat 
were  removed,  a  dessert  of  Arabian  fruits,  confectionaries,  and  sweet- 
meats was  served ;  among  the  latter  was  the  date-bread.  This 
sweetmeat  is  made  in  perfection  only  by  the  blacks  at  Fezzan,  of  the 
ripe  date  of  the  country.  .  .  .  They  make  it  in  the  shape  of  loaves, 
weighing  from  twenty  to  thirty  pounds ;  the  stones  of  the  fruit  are 
taken  out,  and  the  dates  simply  pressed  together  with  great  weights ; 
thus  preserved,  it  keeps  perfectly  good  for  a  year."] 

VOL.  VI.  M 


1 62  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

And  thick  with  damask  flowers  of  silk  inlaid ; 

And  round  them  ran  a  yellow  border  too ; 
The  upper  border,  richly  wrought,  displayed, 

Embroidered  delicately  o'er  with  blue, 
Soft  Persian  sentences,  in  lilac  letters, 
From  poets,  or  the  moralists  their  betters. 

LXV. 
These  Oriental  writings  on  the  wall, 

Quite  common  in  those  countries,  are  a  kind 
Of  monitors  adapted  to  recall, 

Like  skulls  at  Memphian  banquets,  to  the  mind, 
The  words  which  shook  Belshazzar  in  his  hall, 

And  took  his  kingdom  from  him :  You  will  find, 
Though  sages  may  pour  out  their  wisdom's  treasure, 
There  is  no  sterner  moralist  than  Pleasure. 

LXVI. 
A  Beauty  at  the  season's  close  grown  hectic, 

A  Genius  who  has  drunk  himself  to  death, 
A  Rake  turned  methodistic,  or  Eclectic —  1 

(For  that 's  the  name  they  like  to  pray  beneath) — '• 
But  most,  an  Alderman  struck  apoplectic, 

Are  things  that  really  take  away  the  breath, — 
And  show  that  late  hours,  wine,  and  love  are  able 
To  do  not  much  less  damage  than  the  table. 

LXVII. 
Haidee  and  Juan  carpeted  their  feet 

On  crimson  satin,  bordered  with  pale  blue ; 
Their  sofa  occupied  three  parts  complete 

Of  the  apartment — and  appeared  quite  new ; 

i.  for  that 's  the  name  they  like  to  cant  beneath. — [Af5.] 

i.  ["  He  writes  like  a  man  who  has  that  clear  perception  of  the  truth 
of  things  which  is  the  result  of  the  guilty  knowledge  of  good  and  evil ; 
and  who,  by  the  light  of  that  knowledge,  has  deliberately  preferred  the 
evil  with  a  proud  malignity  of  purpose,  which  would  seem  to  leave 
little  for  the  last  consummating  change  to  accomplish.  When  he 
calculates  that  the  reader  is  on  the  verge  of  pitying  him,  he  takes  care 
to  throw  him  back  the  defiance  of  laughter,  as  if  to  let  him  know  that 
all  the  Poet's  pathos  is  but  the  sentimentalism  of  the  drunkard  between 
his  cups,  or  the  relenting  softness  of  the  courtesan,  who  the  next 
moment  resumes  the  bad  boldness  of  her  degraded  character.  With 
such  a  man,  who  would  wish  either  to  laugh  or  to  weep  ?  " — Eclectic 
Review  (Lord  Byron's  Mazeppa),  August,  1819,  vol.  xii.  p.  150.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON    JUAN.  163 

The  velvet  cushions  (for  a  throne  more  meet) 

Were  scarlet,  from  whose  glowing  centre  grew 
A  sun  embossed  in  gold,  whose  rays  of  tissue, 
Meridian-like,  were  seen  all  light  to  issue.1- 

LXVIII. 
Crystal  and  marble,  plate  and  porcelain, 

Had  done  their  work  of  splendour ;  Indian  mats 
And  Persian  carpets,  which  the  heart  bled  to  stain, 

Over  the  floors  were  spread ;  gazelles  and  cats, 
And  dwarfs  and  blacks,  and  such  like  things,  that  gain 

Their  bread  as  ministers  and  favourites  (that 's 
To  say,  by  degradation)  mingled  there 
As  plentiful  as  in  a  court,  or  fair. 

LXIX. 
There  was  no  want  of  lofty  mirrors,  and 

The  tables,  most  of  ebony  inlaid 
With  mother  of  pearl  or  ivory,  stood  at  hand, 

Or  were  of  tortoise-shell  or  rare  woods  made, 
Fretted  with  gold  or  silver  : — by  command 

The  greater  part  of  these  were  ready  spread 
With  viands  and  sherbets  in  ice — and  wine — 
Kept  for  all  comers  at  all  hours  to  dine. 

LXX. 
Of  all  the  dresses  I  select  Haidee's  : 

She  wore  two  jelicks — one  was  of  pale  yellow ; 
Of  azure,  pink,  and  white  was  her  chemise — 

'Neath  which  her  breast  heaved  like  a  little  billow  : 
With  buttons  formed  of  pearls  as  large  as  peas, 

All  gold  and  crimson  shone  her  j  click's  fellow, 
And  the  striped  white  gauze  baracan  that  bound  her, 
Like  fleecy  clouds  about  the  moon,  flowed  round  her. 

LXXI. 
One  large  gold  bracelet  clasped  each  lovely  arm, 

Lockless — so  pliable  from  the  pure  gold 
That  the  hand  stretched  and  shut  it  without  harm, 

The  limb  which  it  adorned  its  only  mould  \ 

i.    The  upholsterer's  "  fiat  lux  "  had  bade  to  issue. — [AfS.] 


164 


DON   JUAN. 


[CANTO  in. 


So  beautiful — its  very  shape  would  charm, 
And  clinging,  as  if  loath  to  lose  its  hold, 
The  purest  ore  enclosed  the  whitest  skin 
That  e'er  by  precious  metal  was  held  in.1 

LXXII. 
Around,  as  Princess  of  her  father's  land, 

A  like  gold  bar  above  her  instep  rolled  2 
Announced  her  rank ;  twelve  rings  were  on  her  hand  ; 

Her  hair  was  starred  with  gems  ;  her  veil's  fine  fold 
Below  her  breast  was  fastened  with  a  band 

Of  lavish  pearls,  whose  worth  could  scarce  be  told ; 
Her  orange  silk  full  Turkish  trousers  furled 
About  the  prettiest  ankle  in  the  world. 

LXXIII. 
Her  hair's  long  auburn  waves  down  to  her  heel 

Flowed  like  an  Alpine  torrent  which  the  sun 
Dyes  with  his  morning  light, — and  would  conceal 

Her  person  3  if  allowed  at  large  to  run, 
And  still  they  seemed  resentfully  to  feel 

The  silken  fillet's  curb,  and  sought  to  shun 
Their  bonds  whene'er  some  Zephyr  caught  began 
To  offer  his  young  pinion  as  her  fan. 

LXXIV. 

Round  her  she  made  an  atmosphere  of  life,4 
The  very  air  seemed  lighter  from  her  eyes, 

r 

1.  This  dress  is  Moorish,  and  the  bracelets  and  bar  are  worn  in  the 
manner  described.     The  reader  will  perceive  hereafter,  that  as  the 
mother  of  Haid6e  was  of  Fez,  her  daughter  wore  the  garb  of  the  country. 
\Vide  ante,  p.  160,  note  i.] 

2.  The  bar  of  gold  above  the  instep  is  a  mark  of  sovereign  rank  in 
the  women  of  the  families  of  the  Deys,  and  is  worn  as  such  by  their 
female  relatives.    {Vide  ibid.~\ 

3.  This  is  no  exaggeration:   there  were  four  women  whom  I  re- 
member to  have  seen,  who  possessed  their  hair  in  this  profusion  ;  of 
these,  three  were  English,  the  other  was  a  Levantine.     Their  hair  was 
of  that  length  and  quantity,  that,  when  let  down,  it  almost  entirely 
shaded  the  person,  so  as  nearly  to  render  dress  a  superfluity.    Of  these, 
only  one  had  dark  hair ;  the  Oriental's  had,  perhaps,  the  lightest  colour 
of  the  four. 

4.  [Compare — 

"  Yet  there  was  round  thee  such  a  dawn 
Of  Light  ne'er  seen  before, 


CANTO  III.]  DON    JUAN.  165 

They  were  so  soft  and  beautiful,  and  rife 

With  all  we  can  imagine  of  the  skies, 
And  pure  as  Psyche  ere  she  grew  a  wife — 

Too  pure  even  for  the  purest  human  ties ; 
Her  overpowering  presence  made  you  feel 
It  would  not  be  idolatry  to  kneel.1 

LXXV. 
Her  eyelashes,  though  dark  as  night,  were  tinged 

(It  is  the  country's  custom,  but  in  vain), 
For  those  large  black  eyes  were  so  blackly  fringed, 

The  glossy  rebels  mocked  the  jetty  stain, 
And  in  their  native  beauty  stood  avenged : 

Her  nails  were  touched  with  henna ;  but,  again, 
The  power  of  Art  was  turned  to  nothing,  for 
They  could  not  look  more  rosy  than  before. 

LXXVI. 
The  henna  should  be  deeply  dyed  to  make 

The  skin  relieved  appear  more  fairly  fair ; 
She  had  no  need  of  this,  day  ne'er  will  break 

On  mountain  tops  more  heavenly  white  than  her  : 
The  eye  might  doubt  if  it  were  well  awake, 

She  was  so  like  a  vision ;  I  might  err, 
But  Shakespeare  also  says,  't  is  very  silly 
"  To  gild  refine'd  gold,  or  paint  the  lily."  2 

LXXVII. 

Juan  had  on  a  shawl  of  black  and  gold, 
But  a  white  baracan,  and  so  transparent 

As  Fancy  never  could  have  drawn, 
And  never  can  restore." 

Song  by  Rev.  C.  Wolfe  (1791-1823). 
Compare,  too— 

' '  She  was  a  form  of  Life  and  Light 
That,  seen,  became  a  part  of  sight." 

The  Giaour,  lines  1127,  1128.] 

i.  [" .  .  .  but  Psyche  owns  no  lord — 

She  walks  a  goddess  from  above  ; 
All  saw,  all  praised  her,  all  adored, 

But  no  one  ever  dared  to  love." 
The  Golden  Ass  of  Apuleius  ;  in  English  verse,  entitled 

Cupid  and  Psyche,  by  Hudson  Gurney,  1799.] 

2.  \_King  John,  act  iv.  sc.  2,  line  ii.] 


1 66  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

The  sparkling  gems  beneath  you  might  behold, 
Like  small  stars  through  the  milky  way  apparent ; 

His  turban,  furled  in  many  a  graceful  fold, 
An  emerald  aigrette,  with  HaideVs  hair  in  't, 

Surmounted  as  its  clasp — a  glowing  crescent, 

Whose  rays  shone  ever  trembling,  but  incessant. 

LXXVIII. 
And  now  they  were  diverted  by  their  suite, 

Dwarfs,  dancing  girls,  black  eunuchs,  and  a  poet, 
Which  made  their  new  establishment  complete ; 

The  last  was  of  great  fame,  and  liked  to  show  it ; 
His  verses  rarely  wanted  their  due  feet — 

And  for  his  theme — he  seldom  sung  below  it, 
He  being  paid  to  satirise  or  flatter, 
As  the  Psalm  says,  "  inditing  a  good  matter." 

LXXIX. 

He  praised  the  present,  and  abused  the  past, 

Reversing  the  good  custom  of  old  days, 
An  Eastern  anti-jacobin  at  last 

He  turned,  preferring  pudding  to  no  praise — 
For  some  few  years  his  lot  had  been  o'ercast 

By  his  seeming  independent  in  his  lays, 
But  now  he  sung  the  Sultan  and  the  Pacha — 
With  truth  like  Southey,  and  with  verse l  like  Crashaw.1 

LXXX. 

He  was  a  man  who  had  seen  many  changes, 
And  always  changed  as  true  as  any  needle ; 

His  Polar  Star  being  one  which  rather  ranges, 
And  not  the  fixed — he  knew  the  way  to  wheedle  : 

i.  Believed  like  Southey — and  perused  like  Crashaw. — \MS.~\ 

i.  ["Richard  Crashaw  (died  1650),  the  friend  of  Cowley,  was 
honoured,"  says  Warton,  "with  the  praise  of  Pope;  who  both  read 
his  poems  and  borrowed  from  them.  After  he  was  ejected  from  his 
Fellowship  at  Peterhouse  for  denying  the  covenant,  he  turned  Roman 
Catholic,  and  died  canon  of  the  church  at  Loretto."  Cowley  sang  his 
In  Memoriam — 

"  Angels  (they  say)  brought  the  famed  Chappel  there  ; 
And  bore  the  sacred  Load  in  Triumph  through  the  air  : —     ' 
'T  is  surer  much  they  brought  thee  there,  and  They, 
And  Thou,  their  charge,  went  singing  all  the  way." 

The  Works,  etc.,  1668,  pp.  29,  30.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.    .  167 

So  vile  he  'scaped  the  doom  which  oft  avenges ; 

And  being  fluent  (save  indeed  when  fee'd  ill), 
He  lied  with  such  a  fervour  of  intention — 
There  was  no  doubt  he  earned  his  laureate  pension. 

LXXXI. 
But  he  had  genius, — when  a  turncoat  has  it, 

The  Vates  irritabilis x  takes  care 
That  without  notice  few  full  moons  shall  pass  it ; 

Even  good  men  like  to  make  the  public  stare : — 
But  to  my  subject — let  me  see — what  was  it  ? — 

Oh  ! — the  third  canto — and  the  pretty  pair — 
Their  loves,  and  feasts,  and  house,  and  dress,  and  mode 
Of  living  in  their  insular  abode. 

LXXXII. 
Their  poet,  a  sad  trimmer,  but,  no  less,K 

In  company  a  very  pleasant  fellow, 
Had  been  the  favourite  of  full  many  a  mess 

Of  men,  and  made  them  speeches  when  half  mellow  ; " 
And  though  his  meaning  they  could  rarely  guess, 

Yet  still  they  deigned  to  hiccup  or  to  bellow 
The  glorious  meed  of  popular  applause, 
Of  which  the  first  ne'er  knows  the  second  cause."1 

LXXXIII. 
But  now  being  lifted  into  high  society, 

And  having  picked  up  several  odds  and  ends 
Of  free  thoughts  in  his  travels  for  variety, 

He  deemed,  being  in  a  lone  isle,  among  friends, 
That,  without  any  danger  of  a  riot,  he 

Might  for  long  lying  make  himself  amends ; 
And,  singing  as  he  sung  in  his  warm  youth, 
Agree  to  a  short  armistice  with  Truth. 

LXXXIV. 
He  had  travelled  'mongst  the  Arabs,  Turks,  and  Franks, 

And  knew  the  self-loves  of  the  different  nations ; 

i.   Their  poet  a  sad  Southey.—[MS.  D.] 

ii.   Of  rogues .—  [MS.  D.] 

iii.   Of  which  the  causers  never  know  the  cause. — [MS.  D.] 

i.  [The  second  chapter  of  Coleridge's  Biographia  Lileraria   is  on 
the  "supposed  irritability  of  men  of  genius."     Ed.  1847,  i.  29.] 


1 68  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

And  having  lived  with  people  of  all  ranks, 
Had  something  ready  upon  most  occasions — 

Which  got  him  a  few  presents  and  some  thanks. 
He  varied  with  some  skill  his  adulations ; 

To  "  do  at  Rome  as  Romans  do,"  l  a  piece 

Of  conduct  was  which  //^  observed  in  Greece. 

LXXXV. 

Thus,  usually,  when  he  was  asked  to  sing, 

He  gave  the  different  nations  something  national ; 

'T  was  all  the  same  to  him — "  God  save  the  King," 
Or  "  Ca  ira,"  according  to  the  fashion  all : 

His  Muse  made  increment  of  anything, 

From  the  high  lyric  down  to  the  low  rational ;  '•  2 

If  Pindar  sang  horse-races,  what  should  hinder 

Himself  from  being  as  pliable  as  Pindar  ? 

LXXXVI. 

In  France,  for  instance,  he  would  write  a  chanson ; 

In  England  a  six  canto  quarto  tale ; 
In  Spain  he  'd  make  a  ballad  or  romance  on 

The  last  war — much  the  same  in  Portugal ; 
In  Germany,  the  Pegasus  he  'd  prance  on 

Would  be  old  Goethe's — (see  what  says  De  Stael) ;  3 
In  Italy  he  'd  ape  the  "  Trecentisti ; " 
In  Greece,  he  'd  sing  some  sort  of  hymn  like  this  t  'ye : 4 

i.  From  the  high  lyrical  to  the  low  rational. — [MS.  D.] 

1.  {Vide  St.  August.  Epist.,  xxxvi.,  cap.  xiv.,  "  Ille  [Ambrosius, 
Mediolanensis  Episcopus]  adjecit ;  Quandohicsum,  nonjejunosabbato  ; 
quando  Romae  sum,  jejuno  sabbato." — Migne's  Patrologia  Cursus, 
1845,  xxxiii.  151.] 

2.  [The  allusion  is  to  Coleridge's  eulogy  of  Southey  in  the  Biographia 
Literaria  (ed.  1847,  i.  61) :  "In  poetry  he  has  attempted  almost  every 
species  of  composition  known  before,  and  he  has  added  new  ones ; 
and  if  we  except  the  very  highest  lyric  ...  he  has  attempted  every 
species  successfully."     But  the  satire,  primarily  and  ostensibly  aimed  at 
Southey,  now  and  again  glances  at  Southey's  eulogist.] 

3.  ["Goethe  pourroit   repre'senter    la  litteYature    allemande    toute 
entiere." — De  L'Allemagne,  par  Mme.  la  Baronne  de  Stael-Holstein, 
1818,  i.  227.] 

4.  [The  poet  is  not  "a  sad  Southey,"  but  is  sketched  from  memory. 
"Lord  Byron,"  writes  Finlay  (History  of  Greece,  vi.  335,  note],  "used 
to  describe  an  evening  passed  in  the  company  of  Londos  [a  Morean 
landowner,  who  took  part  in  the  first  and  second  Greek  Civil  Wars], 
at  Vostitza  (in  1809),  when  both  were  young  men,  with  a  spirit  that 


CANTO  III.]  DON    JUAN.  169 

I. 

The  Isles  of  Greece,  the  Isles  of  Greece  ! 

Where  burning  Sappho  loved  and  sung, 
Where  grew  the  arts  of  War  and  Peace, 

Where  Delos  rose,  and  Phoebus  sprung  ! 
Eternal  summer  gilds  them  yet, 
But  all,  except  their  Sun,  is  set. 

2. 
The  Scian  and  the  Teian  muse, 

The  Hero's  harp,  the  Lover's  lute, 
Have  found  the  fame  your  shores  refuse  : 

Their  place  of  birth  alone  is  mute 
To  sounds  which  echo  further  west 
Than  your  Sires'  "  Islands  of  the  Blest."  1 

3- 
The  mountains  look  on  Marathon —  '• 

And  Marathon  looks  on  the  sea ; 
And  musing  there  an  hour  alone, 

I  dreamed  that  Greece  might  still  be  free ; 
For  standing  on  the  Persians'  grave, 
I  could  not  deem  myself  a  slave. 

4-2 

A  King  sate  on  the  rocky  brow 
Which  looks  o'er  sea-born  Salamis ; 

i.  Eubcsa  looks  on  Marathon, 

And  Marathon  looks  on  the  sea,  etc. — [MS.] 

rendered  the  scene  worthy  of  a  place  in  Don  Juan.  After  supper 
Londos,  who  had  the  face  and  figure  of  a  chimpanzee,  sprang  upon  a 
table,  .  .  .  and  commenced  singing  through  his  nose  Rhiga's  Hymn 
to  Liberty.  A  new  cadi,  passing  near  the  house,  inquired  the  cause  of 
the  discordant  hubbub.  A  native  Mussulman  replied,  '  It  is  only  the 
young  primate  Londos,  who  is  drunk,  and  is  singing  hymns  to  the  new 
panaghia  of  the  Greeks,  whom  they  call  Eleutheria. ' "  (See  letter  to 
Andreas  Londos  (undated),  Letters,  1901,  vi.  320,  note  i.)J 

1.  The  MoKtfyjcoj/  vyffoi  [Hesiod,    Works  and  Days,  line  169]  of  the 
Greek  poets  were  supposed  to  have  been  the  Cape  de  Verd  Islands, 
or  the  Canaries. 

2.  [See  ^Eschylus,  Persce,  463,  sq.  •  and  Herodotus,  viii.  90.     Harpo- 
cration  records  the  preservation,  in  the  Acropolis,  of  the  silver-footed 
throne  on  which  Xerxes  sat  when  he  watched  the  battle  of  Salamis 
from  the  slope  of  Mount  ^Egaleos.] 


DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

And  ships,  by  thousands,  lay  below, 

And  men  in  nations ; — all  were  his  ! 
He  counted  them  at  break  of  day — 
And,  when  the  Sun  set,  where  were  they  ? 

5- 
And  where  are  they  ?  and  where  art  thou, 

My  Country  ?     On  thy  voiceless  shore 
The  heroic  lay  is  tuneless  now — 

The  heroic  bosom  beats  no  more  ! L 
And  must  thy  Lyre,  so  long  divine, 
Degenerate  into  hands  like  mine  ? 

6. 
'T  is  something,  in  the  dearth  of  Fame, 

Though  linked  among  a  fettered  race, 
To  feel  at  least  a  patriot's  shame, 

Even  as  I  sing,  suffuse  my  face ; 
For  what  is  left  the  poet  here  ? 
For  Greeks  a  blush — for  Greece  a  tear. 

7- 
Must  we  but  weep  o'er  days  more  blest  ? 

Must  we  but  blush  ? — Our  fathers  bled. 
Earth  !  render  back  from  out  thy  breast 

A  remnant  of  our  Spartan  dead  ! 
Of  the  three  hundred  grant  but  three, 
To  make  a  new  Thermopylae  ! 

8. 

What,  silent  still  ?  and  silent  all  ? 

Ah  !  no ; — the  voices  of  the  dead 
Sound  like  a  distant  torrent's  fall, 

And  answer,  "  Let  one  living  head, 
But  one  arise, — we  come,  we  come  ! " 
'T  is  but  the  living  who  are  dumb. 

9- 

In  vain — in  vain  :  strike  other  chords ; 
Fill  high  the  cup  with  Samian  wine  ! 

The  Heroic  heart  awakes  no  more. — [MS.  D.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON    JUAN.  171 

Leave  battles  to  the  Turkish  hordes, 
And  shed  the  blood  of  Scio's  vine  ! 
Hark  !  rising  to  the  ignoble  call  — 
How  answers  each  bold  Bacchanal  ! 

10. 
You  have  the  Pyrrhic  dance  as  yet,1 

Where  is  the  Pyrrhic  phalanx  gone  ? 
Of  two  such  lessons,  why  forget 

The  nobler  and  the  manlier  one  ? 
You  have  the  letters  Cadmus  gave  — 
Think  ye  he  meant  them  for  a  slave  ? 

ii. 

Fill  high  the  bowl  with  Samian  wine  ! 

We  will  not  think  of  themes  like  these  ! 
It  made  Anacreon's  song  divine  : 

He  served  —  but  served  Polycrates  —  2 
A  Tyrant  ;  but  our  masters  then 
Were  still,  at  least,  our  countrymen. 

12. 
The  Tyrant  of  the  Chersonese 

Was  Freedom's  best  and  bravest  friend  ; 
That  tyrant  was  Miltiades  ! 

Oh  !  that  the  present  hour  would  lend 
Another  despot  of  the  kind  ! 
Such  chains  as  his  were  sure  to  bind. 


Fill  high  the  bowl  with  Samian  wine  ! 

On  Suli's  rock,  and  Parga's  shore, 
Exists  the  remnant  of  a  line 

Such  as  the  Doric  mothers  bore  ; 
And  there,  perhaps,  some  seed  is  sown, 
The  Heracleidan  blood  might  own.'- 

i.    Which  Hercules  might  deem  his  own.  —  [.MS.] 

1.  [For   "that   most    ancient   military  dance,   the  Pyrrhica,"  see 
Travels,  by  E.   D.   Clarke,  1814,  part   ii.  sect,   n,   p.  641;   and   for 
specimens  of  "  Cadmean  characters,"  vide  ibid.,  p.  593.] 

2.  [After  his  birthplace  Teos  was  taken  by  the  Persians,  B.C.  510, 
Anacreon  migrated  to  Abdera,  but  afterwards  lived  at  Samos,  under 
the  protection  of  Polycrates.  ] 


172  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

14. 
Trust  not  for  freedom  to  the  Franks — 1 

They  have  a  king  who  buys  and  sells ; 
In  native  swords,  and  native  ranks, 

The  only  hope  of  courage  dwells  ; 
But  Turkish  force,  and  Latin  fraud, 
Would  break  your  shield,  however  broad. 

IS- 
Fill  high  the  bowl  with  Samian  wine  ! 

Our  virgins  dance  beneath  the  shade — 
I  see  their  glorious  black  eyes  shine ; 

But  gazing  on  each  glowing  maid, 
My  own  the  burning  tear-drop  laves, 
To  think  such  breasts  must  suckle  slaves. 

1 6. 
Place  me  on  Sunium's  marbled  steep,2 

Where  nothing,  save  the  waves  and  I, 
May  hear  our  mutual  murmurs  sweep ; 

There,  swan-like,  let  me  sing  and  die  : 
A  land  of  slaves  shall  ne'er  be  mine — 
Dash  down  yon  cup  of  Samian  wine  ! 

LXXXVII. 

Thus  sung,  or  would,  or  could,  or  should  have  sung, 
The  modern  Greek,  in  tolerable  verse  ; 

1.  [See  the  translation  of  a  speech  delivered  to  the  Pargiots,  in  1815, 
by  an  aged  citizen  :  "  I  exhort  you  well  to  consider,  before  you  yield 
yourselves  up  to  the  English,  that  the  King  of  England  now  has  in  his 
pay  all  the  kings  of  Europe — obtaining  money  for  this  purpose  from 
his  merchants ;  whence,  should  it  become  advantageous  to  the  mer- 
chants to  sell  you,  in  order  to  conciliate  Ali,  and  obtain  certain  com- 
mercial advantages  in  his  harbours,  the  Eng lish  will  sell  you  to  Ali." 
— "  Parga,"  Edinburgh  Review,  October,   1819,  vol.  32,  pp.  263-293. 
Here,  perhaps,  the  "Franks"  are  the  Russians.     Compare — 

' '  Greeks  only  should  free  Greece, 
Not  the  barbarian  with  his  masque  of  peace." 

The  Age  of  Bronze,  lines  298,  299, 

Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  557,  note  i.] 

2.  [Tfvol/Jiav,  1v'  v\aej>  firfffn  ir6v- 

rov  vp60\r)/J.'  a\lie\vffrov,  &- 
Kpav  fnrb  irAe(/ca  'Sovviov,  K.T.\. 

Sophocles,  Ajax,  lines  1190-1192.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON    JUAN.  173 

If  not  like  Orpheus  quite,  when  Greece  was  young, 

Yet  in  these  times  he  might  have  done  much  worse  : 
His  strain  displayed  some  feeling — right  or  wrong  ; 

And  feeling,1  in  a  poet,  is  the  source 
Of  others'  feeling ;  but  they  are  such  liars, 
And  take  all  colours — like  the  hands  of  dyers. 

LXXXVIII. 
But  words  are  things,2  and  a  small  drop  of  ink, 

Falling  like  dew,  upon  a  thought,  produces 
That  which  makes  thousands,  perhaps  millions,  think ; 

'T  is  strange,  the  shortest  letter  which  man  uses 
Instead  of  speech,  may  form  a  lasting  link 

Of  ages ;  to  what  straits  old  Time  reduces 
Frail  man,  when  paper — even  a  rag  like  this, 
Survives  himself,  his  tomb,  and  all  that 's  his  ! 

LXXXIX. 
And  when  his  bones  are  dust,  his  grave  a  blank, 

His  station,  generation,  even  his  nation, 
Become  a  thing,  or  nothing,  save  to  rank 

In  chronological  commemoration, 
Some  dull  MS.  Oblivion  long  has  sank, 

Or  graven  stone  found  in  a  barrack's  station 
In  digging  the  foundation  of  a  closet,'- 
May  turn  his  name  up,  as  a  rare  deposit. 

xc. 
And  Glory  long  has  made  the  sages  smile ; 

'T  is  something,  nothing,  words,  illusion,  wind — 
Depending  more  upon  the  historian's  style 

Than  on  the  name  a  person  leaves  behind  : 
Troy  owes  to  Homer  what  whist  owes  to  Hoyle : 3 

The  present  century  was  growing  blind 

i.  In  digging  drains  for  a  new  water-closet. — \_AfS.~\ 

i.  [Compare — 

1 '  What  poets  feel  not,  when  they  make, 

A  pleasure  in  creating, 
The  world,  in  its  turn,  will  not  take 

Pleasure  in  contemplating." 

Matthew  Arnold  (Motto  to  Poems,  1869,  vol.  i.  Fly-leaf).] 
z.  [For  this  "sentence,"  see  Journal,  November  16, 1813,  Letters,  1898, 
ii.  320,  note  i ;  see,  too,  letter  to  Rogers,  1814,  Letters,  1899,  iii.  89,  note  i,] 
3.  [For  Edmund  Hoyle  (1672-1769),  see  English.  Bard*,  etc.,  lines 
966-968,  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  372,  note  4.] 


174  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

To  the  great  Marlborough's  skill  in  giving  knocks, 
Until  his  late  Life  by  Archdeacon  Coxe.1 

xci. 
Milton  's  the  Prince  of  poets — so  we  say ; 

A  little  heavy,  but  no  less  divine  : 
An  independent  being  in  his  day — 

Learned,  pious,  temperate  in  love  and  wine  ; 
But,  his  life  falling  into  Johnson's  way, 

We  're  told  this  great  High  Priest  of  all  the  Nine 
Was  whipped  at  college — a  harsh  sire — odd  spouse, 
For  the  first  Mrs.  Milton  left  his  house.2 

XCII. 

All  these  are,  certes,  entertaining  facts, 

Like  Shakespeare's  stealing  deer,  Lord  Bacon's  bribes ; 
Like  Titus'  youth,  and  Caesar's  earliest  acts  ; 3 

Like  Burns  (whom  Doctor  Currie  well  describes) ; 4 
Like  Cromwell's  pranks ; 6 — but  although  Truth  exacts 

These  amiable  descriptions  from  the  scribes, 
As  most  essential  to  their  Hero's  story, 
They  do  not  much  contribute  to  his  glory. 

xcm. 

All  are  not  moralists,  like  Southey,  when 
He  prated  to  the  world  of  "  Pantisocracy ; "  ' 

1.  [AVilliam  Coxe  (1747-1828),  Archdeacon  of  Wilts,  a  voluminous 
historian  and  biographer,  published  Memoirs  of  John,  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough,  in  1817-1819.] 

2.  [See  Life  of  Milton,  Works  of  Samuel  Johnson,  1825,  vii.  pp.  67, 
68,  80,  et  vide  ante,  p.  146,  note  2.] 

3.  [According  to  Suetonius,  the  youthful  Titus  amused  himself  by 
copying  handwriting,  and  boasted  that  he  could  have  made  a  first-rate 
falsarius.     One  of  Caesar's  "earliest  acts"  was  to  crucify  some  jovial 

pirates,  who  had  kidnapped  him,  and  with  whom  he  pretended  tokbc 
on  pleasant  if  not  friendly  terms.] 

4.  [James  Currie,  M.D.  (1756-1805),  published,  anonymously,  the 
Works  of  Robert  Burns,  with  an  account  of  his  Life,  etc.,  in  1800.] 

5.  ["He  [Cromwell]   was  very  notorious  for  robbing  orchards,  a 
puerile  crime   .  .  .    but  grown  so  scandalous  and   injurious  by  the 
frequent   spoyls  and   damages  of  Trees,    breaking  of    Hedges,   and 
Inclosures,  committed  by  this  Apple-Dragon,  that  many  solemn  com- 
plaints were  made  both  to  his  Father  and  Mother  for  redresse  thereof ; 
which  missed  not  their  satisfaction  and  expiation  out  of  his  hide,"  etc. 
— Flagellum,  by  James  Heath,  1663,  p.  5.     See,  too,  for  his  "name  of 
a  Royster"   at  Cambridge,  A  Short    View  of  the  Late   Troubles  in 
England,  by  Sir  William  Dugdale,  1681,  p.  459.] 

6.  [In  The  Friend,  1818,  ii.  38,  Coleridge  refers  to  "a  plan  ...  of 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  175 

Or  Wordsworth  unexcised,1  unhired,  who  then 
Seasoned  his  pedlar  poems  with  Democracy  ;  '• 

Or  Coleridge  2  long  before  his  flighty  pen 
Let  to  the  Morning  Post  its  aristocracy  ;  "• 

When  he  and  Southey,  following  the  same  path, 

Espoused  two  partners  (milliners  of  Bath).3 

xciv. 
Such  names  at  present  cut  a  convict  figure, 

The  very  Botany  Bay  in  moral  geography  ; 
Their  loyal  treason,  renegado  rigour, 

Are  good  manure  for  their  more  bare  biography  ; 


i.  Confined  his  pedlar  poems  to  democracy,  —  [ 
ii.  Flourished  its  sophistry  for  aristocracy.  —  [MS.] 

trying  the  experiment  of  human  perfectibility  on  the  banks  of  the 
Susquehanna  ;  "  and  Southey,  in  his  Letter  to  William  Smith,  Esq. 
(1817),  (Essays  Moral  and  Political,  by  Robert  Southey,  1832,  ii.  17), 
speaks  of  his  '  '  purpose  to  retire  with  a  few  friends  into  the  wilds  of 
America,  and  there  lay  the  foundations  of  a  community,"  etc.  ;  but  the 
word  "  Pantisocracy  "  is  not  mentioned.  It  occurs,  perhaps,  for  the 
first  time  in  print,  in  George  Dyer's  biographical  sketch  of  Southey, 
which  he  contributed  to  Public  Characters  of  1799-1800,  p.  225,  "Cole- 
ridge, no  less  than  Southey,  possessed  a  strong  passion  for  poetry. 
They  commenced,  like  two  young  poets,  an  enthusiastic  friendship, 
and  in  connection  with  others,  struck  out  a  plan  for  settling  in  America, 
and  for  having  all  things  in  common.  This  scheme  they  called  Panti- 
socracy." Hence,  the  phrase  must  have  "caught  on,"  for,  in  a  footnote 
to  his  review  of  Coleridge's  Literary  Life  (Edin.  Rev.,  August,  1817, 
voL  xxviii.  p.  501),  Jeffrey  speaks  of  '  '  the  Pantisocratic  or  Lake  School.  "] 

1.  [Wordsworth    was    "hired,"   but    not,    like    Burns,    "excised." 
Hazlitt  (Lectures  on  the  English  Poets,  1870,  p.  174)  is  responsible  for 
the  epithet  :  '  '  Mr.  Wordsworth  might  have  shown  the  incompatibility 
between  the  Muse  and  the  Excise,"  etc.] 

2.  [Coleridge  began  his  poetical  contributions  to  the  Morning  Post 
in  January,  1798  ;  his  poetical  articles  in  1800.] 

3.  [Coleridge   was  married  to   Sarah  Flicker,  October  5  ;   Southey 
to  her  younger  sister  Edith,  November  15,  1795.    Their  father,  Stephen 
Fricker,  who  had  been  an  innkeeper,  and  afterwards  a  potter  at  Bristol, 
migrated  to  Bath  about  the  year  1780.     For  the  last  six  years  of  his 
life  he  was  owner  and  manager  of  a  coal  wharf.     He  had  inherited  a 
small  fortune,  and  his  wife  brought  him  money,  but  he  died  bankrupt, 
and  left  his  family  destitute.     His  widow  returned  to  Bristol,  and  kept 
a  school.     In  a  letter  to  Murray,  dated  September  ii,  1822  (Letters, 
1901,  vi.   113),  Byron  quotes  the  authority  of   "Luttrell,"  and  "his 
friend  Mr.  Nugent,"  for  the  statement  that  Mrs.  Southey  and  "Cole- 
ridge's Sara  .  .  .  before  they   were   married  .  .  .   were  milliner's  or 
dressmaker's  apprentices."     The  story  rests  upon  their  evidence.     It 
is  certain  that  in  1794,  when  Coleridge  appeared  upon  the  scene,  the 
sisters  earned  their  living  by  going  out  to  work  in  the  houses  of  friends, 
and  were  not,  at  that  time,  "  milliners  of  Bath."] 


1 76  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

Wordsworth's  last  quarto,  by  the  way,  is  bigger 
Than  any  since  the  birthday  of  typography ; 
A  drowsy,  frowzy  poem,  called  the  "  Excursion," 
Writ  in  a  manner  which  is  my  aversion. 

xcv. 
He  there  builds  up  a  formidable  dyke 

Between  his  own  and  others'  intellect ; 
But  Wordsworth's  poem,  and  his  followers,  like 

Joanna  Southcote's  Shiloh l  and  her  sect, 
Are  things  which  in  this  century  don't  strike 

The  public  mind, — so  few  are  the  elect ; 
And  the  new  births  of  both  their  stale  Virginities 
Have  proved  but  Dropsies,  taken  for  Divinities. 

xcvi. 
But  let  me  to  my  story  :  I  must  own, 

If  I  have  any  fault,  it  is  digression, 
Leaving  my  people  to  proceed  alone, 

While  I  soliloquize  beyond  expression  : 
But  these  are  my  addresses  from  the  throne, 

Which  put  off  business  to  the  ensuing  session  : 
Forgetting  each  omission  is  a  loss  to 
The  world,  not  quite  so  great  as  Ariosto. 

XCVII. 

I  know  that  what  our  neighbours  call  "  longuetirs," 
(We  've  not  so  good  a  word,  but  have  the  thing^ 

In  that  complete  perfection  which  insures 
An  epic  from  Bob  Southey  every  spring — ) 

Form  not  the  true  temptation  which  allures 
The  reader ;  but 't  would  not  be  hard  to  bring 

Some  fine  examples  of  the  Epop'ee, 

To  prove  its  grand  ingredient  is  Ennui? 

1.  [For  Joanna  Southcott  (1750-1814),  see  Letters,  1899,  iii.   128- 
130,  note  2.] 

2.  [Here  follows,  in  the  original  MS. — 

' '  Time  has  approved  Ennui  to  be  the  best 

Of  friends,  and  opiate  draughts  ;  your  love  and  wine, 

Which  shake  so  much  the  human  brain  and  breast, 
Must  end  in  languor ; — men  must  sleep  like  swine  : 

The  happy  lover  and  the  welcome  guest 
Both  sink  at  last  into  a  swoon  divine  ; 

Full  of  deep  raptures  and  of  bumpers,  they 

Are  somewhat  sick  and  sorry  the  next  day."] 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  177 

XCVIII. 

We  learn  from  Horace,  "  Homer  sometimes  sleeps  ;  "  1 
We  feel  without  him, — Wordsworth  sometimes  wakes, — 

To  show  with  what  complacency  he  creeps, 
With  his  dear  "  Waggoners"  around  his  lakes.2 

He  wishes  for  "  a  boat "  to  sail  the  deeps — 
Of  Ocean  ? — No,  of  air ;  and  then  he  makes 

Another  outcry  for  "  a  little  boat," 

And  drivels  seas  to  set  it  well  afloat.3 

xcix. 
If  he  must  fain  sweep  o'er  the  ethereal  plain, 

And  Pegasus  runs  restive  in  his  "  Waggon," 
Could  he  not  beg  the  loan  of  Charles's  Wain  ? 

Or  pray  Medea  for  a  single  dragon  ?  4 
Or  if,  too  classic  for  his  vulgar  brain, 

He  feared  his  neck  to  venture  such  a  nag  on, 
And  he  must  needs  mount  nearer  to  the  moon, 
Could  not  the  blockhead  ask  for  a  balloon  ? 

c. 

"  Pedlars,"  and  "  Boats,"  and  "Waggons ! "  Oh !  ye  shades 
Of  Pope  and  Dryden,  are  we  come  to  this  ? 

That  trash  of  such  sort  not  alone  evades 
Contempt,  but  from  the  bathos'  vast  abyss 

Floats  scumlike  uppermost,  and  these  Jack  Cades 
Of  sense  and  song  above  your  graves  may  hiss — 

The  "  little  boatman  "  and  his  Peter  Bell 

Can  sneer  at  him  who  drew  "  Achitophel !  "  5 

1.  ["  Quandoque    bonus    dormitat    Homerus." — Hor.,    Epist.    Ad 
Pisones,  line  359.] 

2.  [Wordsworth's  Benjamin  ike   Waggoner,  was  written  in   1805, 
but  was  not  published  till  1819.     "  Benjamin  "  was  servant  to  William 
Jackson,  a  Keswick  carrier,  who  built  Greta  Hall,  and  let  off  part  of 
the  house  to  Coleridge.] 

3.  ["  There  's  something  in  a  flying  horse, 

There  's  something  in  a  huge  balloon  ; 
But  through  the  clouds  I  '11  never  float 
Until  I  have  a  little  Boat, 
Shaped  like  the  crescent-moon." 

Wordsworth's  Peter  Bell,  stanza  i.] 

4.  [For  Medea's  escape  from  the  wrath  of  Jason,  ' '  Titaniacis  ablata 
draconibus,"  see  Ovid.,  Met. ,  vii.  398.] 

5.  [In  his  "  Essay,  Supplementary  to  the  Preface,"  to  his  "  Poems  " 
VOL.  VI.  N 


178  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

ci. 

T  our  tale. — The  feast  was  over,  the  slaves  gone, 
The  dwarfs  and  dancing  girls  had  all  retired ; 

The  Arab  lore  and  Poet's  song  were  done, 
And  every  sound  of  revelry  expired ; 

The  lady  and  her  lover,  left  alone, 

The  rosy  flood  of  Twilight's  sky  admired ; — 

Ave  Maria  !  o'er  the  earth  and  sea, 

That  heavenliest  hour  of  Heaven  is  worthiest  thee  ! 

cu. 

Ave  Maria !  blesse'd  be  the  hour ! 

The  time,  the  clime,  the  spot,  where  I  so  oft 
Have  felt  that  moment  in  its  fullest  power 

Sink  o'er  the  earth — so  beautiful  and  soft — 
While  swung  the  deep  bell  in  the  distant  tower,1 

Or  the  faint  dying  day-hymn  stole  aloft, 
And  not  a  breath  crept  through  the  rosy  air, 
And  yet  the  forest  leaves  seemed  stirred  with  prayer. 

cm. 

Ave  Maria !  't  is  the  hour  of  prayer ! 

Ave  Maria  !  't  is  the  hour  of  Love  ! 
Ave  Maria  !  may  our  spirits  dare 

Look  up  to  thine  and  to  thy  Son's  above  ! 
Ave  Maria !  oh  that  face  so  fair  ! 

Those  downcast  eyes  beneath  the  Almighty  Dove — 
What  though  't  is  but  a  pictured  image  ? — strike — 
That  painting  is  no  idol, — 't  is  too  like. 

i.    While  swung  the  signal  from  the  sacred  tower. — [MS.] 

of  1815,  Wordsworth,  commenting  on  a  passage  on  Night  in  Dryden's 
Indian  Emperor,  says,  "  Dryden's  lines  are  vague,  bombastic,  and 
senseless.  .  .  .  The  verses  of  Dryden  once  celebrated  are  forgotten." 
He  is  not  passing  any  general  criticism  on  "  him  who  drew  Achitophel." 
In  a  letter  to  Sir  Walter  Scott  (November  7,  1805),  then  engaged  on  his 
great  edition  of  Dryden's  Works,  he  admits  that  Dryden  is  not  "  as  a 
poet  any  great  favourite  of  mine.  I  admire  his  talents  and  genius 
highly,  but  he  is  not  a  poetical  genius.  The  only  qualities  I  can  find 
in  Dryden  that  are  essentially  poetical,  are  a  certain  ardour  and  im- 
petuosity of  mind,  with  an  excellent  ear"  (Life  of  Wordsworth,  by  W. 
Knight,  1889,  ii.  26-29).  Scott  may  have  remarked  on  Wordsworth's 
estimate  of  Dryden  in  conversation  with  Byron.] 


CANTO  III.]  DON   JUAN.  179 

CIV. 

Some  kinder  casuists  are  pleased  to  say, 

In  nameless  print '• — that  I  have  no  devotion; 

But  set  those  persons  down  with  me  to  pray, 
And  you  shall  see  who  has  the  properest  notion 

Of  getting  into  Heaven  the  shortest  way ; 
My  altars  are  the  mountains  and  the  Ocean, 

Earth — air — stars,1 — all  that  springs  from  the  great  Whole, 

Who  hath  produced,  and  will  receive  the  Soul. 

cv. 

Sweet  Hour  of  Twilight ! — in  the  solitude 

Of  the  pine  forest,  and  the  silent  shore 
Which  bounds  Ravenna's  immemorial  wood, 

Rooted  where  once  the  Adrian  wave  flowed  o'er, 
To  where  the  last  Cassarean  fortress  stood,2 

Evergreen  forest !  which  Boccaccio's  lore 
And  Dryden's  lay  made  haunted  ground  to  me, 
How  have  I  loved  the  twilight  hour  and  thee  ! a 

cvi. 
The  shrill  cicalas,  people  of  the  pine, 

Making  their  summer  lives  one  ceaseless  song, 

i.  Are  not  these  pretty  stanzas  ?—some  folks  say — 
Downright  in  print . — \MSJ\ 

r.  [Compare  Coleridge's  Lines  to  Nature,  which  were  published  in  the 
Morning  Herald,  in  1815,  but  must  have  been  unknown  to  Byron — 

"  So  will  I  build  my  altar  in  the  fields, 
And  the  blue  sky  my  fretted  dome  shall  be."] 

2.  [ "  As  early  as  the  fifth  or  sixth  century  of  the  Christian  era,  the  port 
of  Augustus  was  converted  into  pleasant  orchards,  and  a  lovely  grove 
of  pines  covered  the  ground  where  the  Roman  fleet  once  rode  at 
anchor.  .  .  .  This  advantageous  situation  was  fortified  by  art  and 
labour,  and  in  the  twentieth  year  of  his  age,  the  Emperor  of  the  West 
.  .  .  retired  to  ...  the  walls  and  morasses  of  Ravenna." — Gibbon's 
Decline  and  Fall,  1825,  ii.  244,  245.] 

3.  ["The  first  time  I  had  a  conversation  with  Lord  Byron  on  the 
subject  of  religion  was  at  Ravenna,  my  native  country,  in  1820,  while 
we  were  riding  on  horseback  in  an  extensive  solitary  wood  of  pines. 
The  scene  invited  to  religious  meditation.     It  was  a  fine  day  in  spring. 
'  How,'  he  said,  'raising  our  eyes  to  heaven,  or  directing  them  to  the 
earth,  can  we  doubt  of  the  existence  of  God? — or  how,  turning  them  to 
what  is  within  us,  can  we  doubt  that  there  is  something  more  noble 
and  durable  than  the  clay  of  which  we  are  formed?'"— Count  Gamba.] 


180  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

Were  the  sole  echoes,  save  my  steed's  and  mine, 
And  Vesper  bell's  that  rose  the  boughs  along ; 

The  spectre  huntsman  of  Onesti's  line, 

His  hell-dogs,  and  their  chase,  and  the  fair  throng 

Which  learned  from  this  example  not  to  fly 

From  a  true  lover, — shadowed  my  mind's  eye.1 

cvn. 

Oh,  Hesperus  !  thou  bringest  all  good  things —  2 
Home  to  the  weary,  to  the  hungry  cheer, 

To  the  young  bird  the  parent's  brooding  wings, 
The  welcome  stall  to  the  o'erlaboured  steer; 

Whate'er  of  peace  about  our  hearthstone  clings, 
Whate'er  our  household  gods  protect  of  dear, 

Are  gathered  round  us  by  thy  look  of  rest ; 

Thou  bring'st  the  child,  too,  to  the  mother's  breast. 

1.  [If  the  Pineta  of  Ravenna,  bois  funebre,  invited  Byron  "to  re- 
ligious meditation,"  the  mental  picture  of  the  "spectre  huntsman" 
pursuing  his  eternal  vengeance  on  ' '  the  inexorable  dame  " — "  that  fatal 
she,"  who  had  mocked  his  woes — must  have  set  in  motion  another  train 
of  thought.     Such  lines  as  these  would  "speak  comfortably  "  to  him — 

"  Because  she  deem'd  I  well  deserved  to  die, 
And  made  a  merit  of  her  cruelty,  .  .  . 
Mine  is  the  ungrateful  maid  by  heaven  design'd  : 
Mercy  she  would  not  give,  nor  mercy  shall  she  find." 

"By  her  example  warn'd,  the  rest  beware  ; 
More  easy,  less  imperious,  were  the  fair  ; 
And  that  one  hunting,  which  the  Devil  design'd 
For  one  fair  female,  lost  him  half  the  kind." 

Dryden's  Theodore  and  Honoria  (sub  fine).'] 

2.  Einrfpe  Traira  tpepeis 
&fpeis  oivov — (pepfis  arya, 

4>«p«tS  fJMTfpl  TTOlSo. 

Fragment  of  Sappho. 

[/•Vtnrfpe,  WjTa  <pepow,  Sffa  <paii>o\i$  tffxeSaff'  a&us' 
Qfpeis  olv  <f>fpeis  alya,  tptpfis  &irv  fjuirfpi  iratSa. 
Sappho,  Memoir,  Text,  by  Henry  Thornton  Wharton,  1895,  p.  136. 

"  Evening,  all  things  thou  bringest 

Which  dawn  spread  apart  from  each  other  ; 
The  lamb  and  the  kid  thou  bringest, 
Thou  bringest  the  boy  to  his  mother." 

J.  A.  Symonds. 

Compare  Tennyson's  Locksley  Hall,  Sixty  Years  After — 
"  Hesper,  whom  the  poet  call'd  the  Bringer  home  of  all  good  things."] 


CANTO  III.] 


DON    JUAN. 


181 


CVIII. 

Soft  Hour !  which  wakes  the  wish  and  melts  the  heart 
Of  those  who  sail  the  seas,  on  the  first  day 

When  they  from  their  sweet  friends  are  torn  apart ; 
Or  fills  with  love  the  pilgrim  on  his  way 

As  the  far  bell  of  Vesper  makes  him  start, 
Seeming  to  weep  the  dying  day's  decay ; l 

Is  this  a  fancy  which  our  reason  scorns  ? 

Ah !  surely  Nothing  dies  but  Something  mourns  ! 

Cix. 
When  Nero  perished  by  the  justest  doom 

Which  ever  the  Destroyer  yet  destroyed, 
Amidst  the  roar  of  liberated  Rome, 

Of  nations  freed,  and  the  world  overjoyed, 
Some  hands  unseen  strewed  flowers  upon  his  tomb  : 2 

Perhaps  the  weakness  of  a  heart  not  void 
Of  feeling  for  some  kindness  done,  when  Power 
Had  left  the  wretch  an  uncorrupted  hour. 

ex. 

But  I  'm  digressing ;  what  on  earth  has  Nero, 

Or  any  such  like  sovereign  buffoons,'- 
To  do  with  the  transactions  of  my  hero, 

More  than  such  madmen's  fellow  man — the  moon's  ? 

i.  But  I  'm  digressing — what  on  earth  have  Nero 

And  Wordsworth — both  poetical  buffoons,  etc. — \MS."\ 

1.  "  Era  gi&  1'ora  che  volge  il  disio 

Al  naviganti ,  e  intenerisce  il  cuore ; 
Lo  dl  ch'  ban  detto  ai  dolci  amici  addio  ; 
E  che  lo  nuovo  peregrin'  damore 
Punge,  se  ode  squilla  di  lontano, 
Che  paia  il  giorno  pianger  che  si  more." 

Dante's  Purgatory,  canto  viii,  lines  1-6. 

This  last  line  is  the  first  of  Gray's  Elegy,  taken  by  him  without 
acknowledgment. 

2.  See  Suetonius  for  this  fact. 

["  The  public  joy  was  so  great  upon  the  occasion  of  his  death,  that 
the  common  people  ran  UD  and  down  with  caps  upon  their  heads. 
And  yet  there  were  some,  who  for  a  long  time  trimmed  up  his  tomb 
with  spring  and  summer  flowers,  and,  one  while,  placed  his  image  upon 
his  rostra  dressed  up  in  state  robes,  another  while  published  proclama- 
tions in  his  name,  as  if  he  was  yet  alive,  and  would  shortly  come  to 
Rome  again,  with  a  vengeance  to  all  his  enemies." — De  XII.  Cces., 
lib.  vi.  cap.  Ivii.] 


182  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  in. 

Sure  my  invention  must  be  down  at  zero, 

And  I  grown  one  of  many  "  Wooden  Spoons  " 
Of  verse,  (the  name  with  which  we  Cantabs  please 
To  dub  the  last  of  honours  in  degrees). 

CXI. 
I  feel  this  tediousness  will  never  do — 

'T  is  being  too  epic,  and  I  must  cut  down 
(In  copying)  this  long  canto  into  two ; 

They  '11  never  find  it  out,  unless  I  own 
The  fact,  excepting  some  experienced  few ; 

And  then  as  an  improvement 't  will  be  shown  : 
I  '11  prove  that  such  the  opinion  of  the  critic  is 
From  Aristotle  passim.— See  IIOIHTIKH2.1 

i.  [See  De  Poeticd,  cap.  xxiv.  See,  too,  the  Preface  to  Dryden's 
"  Dedication  "  of  the  SEneis  ( Works  of  John  Dryden,  1821,  xiv.  130- 
134).  Dryden  is  said  to  have  derived  his  knowledge  of  Aristotle  from 
Dacier's  translation,  and  it  is  probable  that  Byron  derived  his  from 
Dryden.  See  letter  to  Hodgson  (Letters,  1891,  v.  284),  in  which  he 
quotes  Aristotle  as  quoted  in  Johnson's  Life  of  Dry  den  .\ 


CANTO  IV.]  DON    JUAN.  183 


CANTO  THE    FOURTH. 


NOTHING  so  difficult  as  a  beginning 

In  poesy,  unless  perhaps  the  end ; 
For  oftentimes  when  Pegasus  seems  winning 

The  race,  he  sprains  a  wing,  and  down  we  tend, 
Like  Lucifer  when  hurled  from  Heaven  for  sinning ; 

Our  sin  the  same,  and  hard  as  his  to  mend, 
Being  Pride,1  which  leads  the  mind  to  soar  too  far, 
Till  our  own  weakness  shows  us  what  we  are. 

ii. 

But  Time,  which  brings  all  beings  to  their  level, 
And  sharp  Adversity,  will  teach  at  last 

Man, — and,  as  we  would  hope, — perhaps  the  Devil, 
That  neither  of  their  intellects  are  vast : 

While  Youth's  hot  wishes  in  our  red  veins  revel, 
We  know  not  this — the  blood  flows  on  too  fast ; 

But  as  the  torrent  widens  towards  the  Ocean, 

We  ponder  deeply  on  each  past  emotion.2 

1.  ["  Till  Pride  and  worse  Ambition  threw  me  down, 

Warring  in  Heaven  against  Heaven's  matchless  King." 

Paradise  Lost,  iv.  40,  41.] 

2.  ["Time  hovers  o'er,  impatient  to  destroy, 

And  shuts  up  all  the  passages  of  joy  : 

In  vain  their  gifts  the  bounteous  seasons  pour, 

The  fruit  autumnal,  and  the  vernal  flow'r  ; 

With  listless  eyes  the  dotard  views  the  store, 

He  views,  and  wonders  that  they  please  no  more." 

Johnson's  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes.  ] 


184  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

in. 
As  boy,  I  thought  myself  a  clever  fellow, 

And  wished  that  others  held  the  same  opinion ; 
They  took  it  up  when  my  days  grew  more  mellow, 

And  other  minds  acknowledged  my  dominion : 
Now  my  sere  Fancy  "  falls  into  the  yellow 

Leaf," x  and  Imagination  droops  her  pinion, 
And  the  sad  truth  which  hovers  o'er  my  desk 
Turns  what  was  once  romantic  to  burlesque. 

IV. 

And  if  I  laugh  at  any  mortal  thing, 

'T  is  that  I  may  not  weep ;  and  if  I  weep, 

'T  is  that  our  nature  cannot  always  bring 
Itself  to  apathy,  for  we  must  steep  '• 

Our  hearts  first  in  the  depths  of  Lethe's  spring,"- 
Ere  what  we  least  wish  to  behold  will  sleep : 

Thetis  baptized  her  mortal  son  in  Styx ; 

A  mortal  mother  would  on  Lethe  fix. 

v. 

Some  have  accused  me  of  a  strange  design 
Against  the  creed  and  morals  of  the  land, 

And  trace  it  in  this  poem  every  line  : 
I  don't  pretend  that  I  quite  understand 

My  own  meaning  when  I  would  be  very  fine ; 
But  the  fact  is  that  I  have  nothing  planned, 

Unless  it  were  to  be  a  moment  merry — 

A  novel  word  in  my  vocabulary. 

VI. 

To  the  kind  reader  of  our  sober  clime 
This  way  of  writing  will  appear  exotic ; 

Pulci 2  was  sire  of  the  half-serious  rhyme,"1 
Who  sang  when  Chivalry  was  more  quixotic, 

i.  Itself  to  that  fit  apathy  -whose  deed. — [MS.] 
ii.  First  in  the  icy  depths  of  Lethe's  spring. — [MS.] 
iii.  Pulci  being  Father . — [MS.     Alternative  reading."] 

1.  ["  .  .  .  my  May  of  Life 

Is  fall'n  into  the  sere,  the  yellow  leaf." 

Macbeth,  act  v.  sc.  3,  lines  22,  23.  ] 

2.  [See  "Introduction  to  the  Morgante  Maggiore,"  Poetical  Works, 
1901,  iv.  280.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON    JUAN.  185 

And  revelled  in  the  fancies  of  the  time, 

True   Knights,   chaste   Dames,   huge   Giants,  Kings 

despotic ; 

But  all  these,  save  the  last,  being  obsolete, 
I  chose  a  modern  subject  as  more  meet. 

VII. 

How  I  have  treated  it,  I  do  not  know ; 

Perhaps  no  better  than  tJiey  have  treated  me, 
Who  have  imputed  such  designs  as  show 

Not  what  they  saw,  but  what  they  wished  to  see : 
But  if  it  gives  them  pleasure,  be  it  so ; 

This  is  a  liberal  age,  and  thoughts  are  free : 
Meantime  Apollo  plucks  me  by  the  ear, 
And  tells  me  to  resume  my  story  here.1 

VIII. 

Young  Juan  and  his  lady-love  were  left 
To  their  own  hearts'  most  sweet  society ; 

Even  Time  the  pitiless  in  sorrow  cleft 

With  his  rude  scythe  such  gentle  bosoms ;  he 

Sighed  to  behold  them  of  their  hours  bereft, 

Though  foe  to  Love ;  and  yet  they  could  not  be 

Meant  to  grow  old,  but  die  in  happy  Spring, 

Before  one  charm  or  hope  had  taken  wing. 

IX. 

Their  faces  were  not  made  for  wrinkles,  their 
Pure  blood  to  stagnate,  their  great  hearts  to  fail ; 

The  blank  grey  was  not  made  to  blast  their  hair, 
But  like  the  climes  that  know  nor  snow  nor  hail, 

They  were  all  summer ;  lightning  might  assail 
And  shiver  them  to  ashes,  but  to  trail 

A  long  and  snake-like  life  of  dull  decay 

Was  not  for  them — they  had  too  little  clay. 

x. 

They  were  alone  once  more ;  for  them  to  be 
Thus  was  another  Eden ;  they  were  never 

Weary,  unless  when  separate  :  the  tree 
Cut  from  its  forest  root  of  years — the  river 

i.  ["  Cum  canerem  reges  et  praelia,  Cynthius  aurem 

Vellit,  et  admonuit." 

Virgil,  EC  I.  vi.  lines  3,  4.  ] 


1 86  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

Dammed  from  its  fountain — the  child  from  the  knee 

And  breast  maternal  weaned  at  once  for  ever, — 
Would  wither  less  than  these  two  torn  apart ;  '• 
Alas  !  there  is  no  instinct  like  the  Heart — 

XL 
The  Heart — which  may  be  broken :  happy  they  ! 

Thrice  fortunate  !  who  of  that  fragile  mould, 
The  precious  porcelain  of  human  clay, 

Break  with  the  first  fall :  they  can  ne'er  behold 
The  long  year  linked  with  heavy  day  on  day, 

And  all  which  must  be  borne,  and  never  told ; 
While  Life's  strange  principle  will  often  lie 
Deepest  in  those  who  long  the  most  to  die. 

XII. 

"  Whom  the  gods  love  die  young,"  was  said  of  yore,1 
And  many  deaths  do  they  escape  by  this : 

The  death  of  friends,  and  that  which  slays  even  more — 
The  death  of  Friendship,  Love,  Youth,  all  that  is, 

Except  mere  breath ;  and  since  the  silent  shore 
Awaits  at  last  even  those  who  longest  miss 

The  old  Archer's  shafts,  perhaps  the  early  grave 2 

Which  men  weep  over  may  be  meant  to  save. 

XIII. 

Haidde  and  Juan  thought  not  of  the  dead — 
The  Heavens,  and  Earth,  and  Air,  seemed  made  for 
them : 

i.  from  its  mother's  knee 

When  its  last  weaning  draught  is  drained  for  ever, 
The  child  divided — it  were  less  to  see, 
Than  these  two  from  each  other  torn  apart. — [MS.] 

1.  [See  Herodotus  (Cleobis  and  Biton),  i.  31.    The  sentiment  is  in  a 
fragment  of  Menander. 

"Of  ol  0€o:  <pt\ovffiv  o.TroQin\ffKti  veos 
or 

"Ov  yap  <j)t\("i  6fbs  airo6vf)ffKei  vtos. 
Menandri  et  Philemonis  reliquiae,  edidit  Augustus  Meineke,  p.  48. 

See  Letters,  1898,  ii.  22,  note  i.     Byron  applied  the  saying  to  Allegra 
in  a  letter  to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  dated  May  4,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  57.] 

2.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  II.  stanza  xcvi.  line  7.     Com- 
pare, too,  Young's  Night  Thoughts  ("The  Complaint,"  Night  I.  ed. 
1825,  p.  5).] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON   JUAN.  187 

They  found  no  fault  with  Time,  save  that  he  fled ; 

They  saw  not  in  themselves  aught  to  condemn  : 
Each  was  the  other's  mirror,  and  but  read 

Joy  sparkling  in  their  dark  eyes  like  a  gem, 
And  knew  such  brightness  was  but  the  reflection 
Of  their  exchanging  glances  of  affection. 

XIV. 

The  gentle  pressure,  and  the  thrilling  touch, 
The  least  glance  better  understood  than  words, 

Which  still  said  all,  and  ne'er  could  say  too  much ; 
A  language,1  too,  but  like  to  that  of  birds, 

Known  but  to  them,  at  least  appearing  such 
As  but  to  lovers  a  true  sense  affords ; 

Sweet  playful  phrases,  which  would  seem  absurd 

To  those  who  have  ceased  to  hear  such,  or  ne'er  heard — 

xv. 
All  these  were  theirs,  for  they  were  children  still, 

And  children  still  they  should  have  ever  been ; 
They  were  not  made  in  the  real  world  to  fill 

A  busy  character  in  the  dull  scene, 
But  like  two  beings  born  from  out  a  rill, 

A  Nymph  and  her  belove'd,  all  unseen 
To  pass  their  lives  in  fountains  and  on  flowers, 
And  never  know  the  weight  of  human  hours. 

XVI. 

Moons  changing  had  rolled  on,  and  changeless  found 
Those  their  bright  rise  had  lighted  to  such  joys 

As  rarely  they  beheld  throughout  their  round ; 
And  these  were  not  of  the  vain  kind  which  cloys, 

For  theirs  were  buoyant  spirits,  never  bound 
By  the  mere  senses ;  and  that  which  destroys  '• 

Most  love — possession — unto  them  appeared 

A  thing  which  each  endearment  more  endeared. 

i.  For  theirs  were  buoyant  spirits,  which  would  bound 
'Gainst  commo?i  failings,  etc. — [vJ/5.] 

i.  [Compare  Swift's  "little  language"  in  his  letter  to  Stella  :  Pode- 
far,  for  instance,  which  is  supposed  to  stand  for  ' '  Poor  dear  foolish 
rogue,"  and  Ppt.,  which  meant  "  Poor  pretty  thing." — See  The  Journal 
of  Stella,  edited  by  G.  A.  Aitken,  1901,  xxxv.  note  i,  and  "Journal: 
March,  1710-11,"  165,  note  2.] 


1 88  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

XVII. 

Oh  beautiful !  and  rare  as  beautiful ! 

But  theirs  was  Love  in  which  the  Mind  delights 
To  lose  itself,  when  the  old  world  grows  dull, 

And  we  are  sick  of  its  hack  sounds  and  sights, 
Intrigues,  adventures  of  the  common  school, 

Its  petty  passions,  marriages,  and  flights, 
Where  Hymen's  torch  but  brands  one  strumpet  more, 
Whose  husband  only  knows  her  not  a  whore. 

XVIII. 

Hard  words — harsh  truth  !  a  truth  which  many  know. 

Enough. — The  faithful  and  the  fairy  pair, 
Who  never  found  a  single  hour  too  slow, 

What  was  it  made  them  thus  exempt  from  care  ? 
Young  innate  feelings  all  have  felt  below, 

Which  perish  in  the  rest,  but  in  them  were 
Inherent — what  we  mortals  call  romantic, 
And  always  envy,  though  we  deem  it  frantic. 

XIX. 

This  is  in  others  a  factitious  state, 

An  opium  dream l  of  too  much  youth  and  reading, 
But  was  in  them  their  nature  or  their  fate : 

No  novels  e'er  had  set  their  young  hearts  bleeding,1- 
For  Haidee's  knowledge  was  by  no  means  great, 

And  Juan  was  a  boy  of  saintly  breeding ; 
So  that  there  was  no  reason  for  their  loves 
More. than  for  those  of  nightingales  or  doves. 

xx. 

They  gazed  upon  the  sunset ;  't  is  an  hour 
Dear  unto  all,  but  dearest  to  their  eyes, 

For  it  had  made  them  what  they  were :  the  power 
Of  Love  had  first  o'erwhelmed  them  from  such  skies, 

i.  had  set  tlieir  hearts  a  bleeding. — [MS.] 

i.  [The  reference  may  be  to  Coleridge's  Kubla  Khan,  which,  to 
Medwin's  wonderment,  "delighted"  Byron  (Conversations,  1824,  p. 
264).  De  Quincy's  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium  Eater  appeared 
in  the  London  Magazine,  October,  November,  1821,  after  Cantos. III., 
IV.,  V.,  of  Don  Juan  were  published.  But,  perhaps,  he  was  contrast- 
ing the  "  simpler  blisses"  of  Juan  and  Haid6e  with  Shelley's  mystical 
affinities  and  divagations.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON    JUAN.  189 

When  Happiness  had  been  their  only  dower, 

And  Twilight  saw  them  linked  in  Passion's  ties ; 
Charmed  with  each  other,  all  things  charmed  that  brought 
The  past  still  welcome  as  the  present  thought. 

XXI. 

I  know  not  why,  but  in  that  hour  to-night, 
Even  as  they  gazed,  a  sudden  tremor  came, 

And  swept,  as  't  were,  across  their  hearts'  delight, 
Like  the  wind  o'er  a  harp-string,  or  a  flame, 

When  one  is  shook  in  sound,  and  one  in  sight : 

And  thus  some  boding  flashed  through  either  frame, 

And  called  from  Juan's  breast  a  faint  low  sigh, 

While  one  new  tear  arose  in  HaideVs  eye. 

XXII. 

That  large  black  prophet  eye  seemed  to  dilate 

And  follow  far  the  disappearing  sun, 
As  if  their  last  day  of  a  happy  date 

With  his  broad,  bright,  and  dropping  orb  were  gone ; 
Juan  gazed  on  her  as  to  ask  his  fate — 

He  felt  a  grief,  but  knowing  cause  for  none, 
His  glance  inquired  of  hers  for  some  excuse 
For  feelings  causeless,  or  at  least  abstruse. 

XXIII. 

She  turned  to  him,  and  smiled,  but  in  that  sort 
Which  makes  not  others  smile ;  then  turned  aside  : 

Whatever  feeling  shook  her,  it  seemed  short, 
And  mastered  by  her  wisdom  or  her  pride ; 

When  Juan  spoke,  too — it  might  be  in  sport — 
Of  this  their  mutual  feeling,  she  replied — 

"  If  it  should  be  so, — but — it  cannot  be — 

Or  I  at  least  shall  not  survive  to  see." 

XXIV. 

Juan  would  question  further,  but  she  pressed 
His  lip  to  hers,  and  silenced  him  with  this, 

And  then  dismissed  the  omen  from  her  breast, 
Defying  augury  with  that  fond  kiss ; 

And  no  doubt  of  all  methods  't  is  the  best : 
Some  people  prefer  wine — 't  is  not  amiss ; 


i9°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

I  have  tried  both — so  those  who  would  a  part  take 
May  choose  between  the  headache  and  the  heartache. 

XXV. 

One  of  the  two,  according  to  your  choice, 
Woman  or  wine,  you  '11  have  to  undergo ; 

Both  maladies  are  taxes  on  our  joys  : 

But  which  to  choose,  I  really  hardly  know ; 

And  if  I  had  to  give  a  casting  voice, 

For  both  sides  I  could  many  reasons  show, 

And  then  decide,  without  great  wrong  to  either, 

It  were  much  better  to  have  both  than  neither. 

XXVI. 

Juan  and  Haidee  gazed  upon  each  other 

With  swimming  looks  of  speechless  tenderness, 

Which  mixed  all  feelings — friend,  child,  lover,  brother — 
All  that  the  best  can  mingle  and  express 

When  two  pure  hearts  are  poured  in  one  another, 
And  love  too  much,  and  yet  can  not  love  less ; 

But  almost  sanctify  the  sweet  excess 

By  the  immortal  wish  and  power  to  bless. 

XXVII. 

Mixed  in  each  other's  arms,  and  heart  in  heart, 
Why  did  they  not  then  die  ? — they  had  lived  too  long 

Should  an  hour  come  to  bid  them  breathe  apart ; 
Years  could  but  bring  them  cruel  things  or  wrong  ; 

The  World  was  not  for  them — nor  the  World's  art 
For  beings  passionate  as  Sappho's  song ; 

Love  was  born  with  them,  in  them,  so  intense, 

It  was  their  very  Spirit — not  a  sense. 

XXVIII. 

They  should  have  lived  together  deep  in  woods, 
Unseen  as  sings  the  nightingale  ; 1  they  were 

i.  ["  The  shadowy  desert,  unfrequented  woods, 

I  better  brook  than  flourishing  peopled  towns  : 
There  can  I  sit  alone,  unseen  of  any, 
And  to  the  nightingale's  complaining  notes 
Tune  my  distresses,  and  record  my  woes." 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  act  v.  sc.  4,  lines  2-6.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON    JUAN.  19! 

Unfit  to  mix  in  these  thick  solitudes 

Called  social,  haunts  of  Hate,  and  Vice,  and  Care :  '• 
How  lonely  every  freeborn  creature  broods  ! 

The  sweetest  song-birds  nestle  in  a  pair ; 
The  eagle  soars  alone ;  the  gull  and  crow 
Flock  o'er  their  carrion,  just  like  men  below. 

XXIX. 

Now  pillowed  cheek  to  cheek,  in  loving  sleep, 

Haidee  and  Juan  their  siesta  took, 
A  gentle  slumber,  but  it  was  not  deep, 

For  ever  and  anon  a  something  shook 
Juan,  and  shuddering  o'er  his  frame  would  creep ; 

And  Haidee's  sweet  lips  murmured  like  a  brook 
A  wordless  music,  and  her  face  so  fair 
Stirred  with  her  dream,  as  rose-leaves  with  the  air." 

XXX. 

Or  as  the  stirring  of  a  deep  clear  stream 
Within  an  Alpine  hollow,  when  the  wind 

Walks  o'er  it,  was  she  shaken  by  the  dream, 
The  mystical  Usurper  of  the  mind — 

O'erpowering  us  to  be  whate'er  may  seem 

Good  to  the  soul  which  we  no  more  can  bind ; 

Strange  state  of  being  !  (for  't  is  still  to  be) 

Senseless  to  feel,  and  with  sealed  eyes  to  see."1 

XXXI. 

She  dreamed  of  being  alone  on  the  sea-shore, 
Chained  to  a  rock ;  she  knew  not  how,  but  stir 

She  could  not  from  the  spot,  and  the  loud  roar 

Grew,    and    each    wave    rose    roughly,    threatening 
her; 

And  o'er  her  upper  lip  they  seemed  to  pour, 

Until  she  sobbed  for  breath,  and  soon  they  were 

Foaming  o'er  her  lone  head,  so  fierce  and  high — 

Each  broke  to  drown  her,  yet  she  could  not  die. 

i.  Called  social,  -where  all  Vice  and  Hatred  are, — [MS.] 

ii.  Moved  with  her  dream . — [MS.] 

iii.  Strange  state  of  being  !— for  't  is  still  to  be — 

And  who  can  know  all  false  what  then  we  see  ? — [MS.] 


192  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

XXXII. 

Anon — she  was  released,  and  then  she  strayed 
O'er  the  sharp  shingles  with  her  bleeding  feet, 

And  stumbled  almost  every  step  she  made  : 
And  something  rolled  before  her  in  a  sheet, 

Which  she  must  still  pursue  howe'er  afraid : 

'T  was  white  and  indistinct,  nor  stopped  to  meet 

Her  glance  nor  grasp,  for  still  she  gazed  and  grasped, 

And  ran,  but  it  escaped  her  as  she  clasped. 

XXXIII. 

The  dream  changed  : — in  a  cave 1  she  stood,  its  walls 
Were  hung  with  marble  icicles ;  the  work 

Of  ages  on  its  water-fretted  halls, 

Where  waves  might  wash,  and  seals  might  breed  and 
lurk; 

Her  hair  was  dripping,  and  the  very  balls 

Of  her  black  eyes  seemed  turned  to  tears,  and  mirk 

The  sharp  rocks  looked  below  each  drop  they  caught, 

Which  froze  to  marble  as  it  fell, — she  thought.1- 

xxxiv. 
And  wet,  and  cold,  and  lifeless  at  her  feet, 

Pale  as  the  foam  that  frothed  on  his  dead  brow, 
Which  she  essayed  in  vaia  to  clear,  (how  sweet 

Were  once  her  cares,  how  idle  seemed  they  now  !) 
Lay  Juan,  nor  could  aught  renew  the  beat 

Of  his  quenched  heart :  and  the  sea  dirges  low 
Rang  in  her  sad  ears  like  a  Mermaid's  song, 
And  that  brief  dream  appeared  a  life  too  long. 

XXXV. 

And  gazing  on  the  dead,  she  thought  his  face 
Faded,  or  altered  into  something  new — 

Like  to  her  Father's  features,  till  each  trace 
More  like  and  like  to  Lambro's  aspect  grew — 

With  all  his  keen  worn  look  and  Grecian  grace ; 
And  starting,  she  awoke,  and  what  to  view  ? 

i.  metkought. — [MS.     Alternative  reading.] 

I.  [Compare  the  description  of  the  "  spacious  cave,"  in  The  Island, 
Canto  IV.  lines  121,  sy.,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  629,  note  i.] 


CANTO  IV.] 


DON    JUAN. 


193 


Oh  !  Powers  of  Heaven  !  what  dark  eye  meets  she  there  ? 
'T  is — 't  is  her  Father's — fixed  upon  the  pair  ! 

xxxvi. 

Then  shrieking,  she  arose,  and  shrieking  fell, 
With  joy  and  sorrow,  hope  and  fear,  to  see 

Him  whom  she  deemed  a  habitant  where  dwell 
The  ocean-buried,  risen  from  death,  to  be 

Perchance  the  death  of  one  she  loved  too  well : 
Dear  as  her  father  had  been  to  Haide'e, 

It  was  a  moment  of  that  awful  kind 

I  have  seen  such — but  must  not  call  to  mind. 

XXXVII. 

Up  Juan  sprang  to  HaideVs  bitter  shriek, 
And  caught  her  falling,  and  from  off  the  wall 

Snatched  down  his  sabre,  in  hot  haste  to  wreak 
Vengeance  on  him  who  was  the  cause  of  all : 

Then  Lambro,  who  till  now  forbore  to  speak, 
Smiled  scornfully,  and  said,  "  Within  my  call, 

A  thousand  scimitars  await  the  word ; 

Put  up,  young  man,  put  up  your  silly  sword." 

XXXVIII. 

And  Haidee  clung  around  him ;  "  Juan,  't  is — 
'T  is  Lambro — 't  is  my  father  !     Kneel  with  me — 

He  will  forgive  us — yes — it  must  be — yes. 
Oh  !  dearest  father,  in  this  agony 

Of  pleasure  and  of  pain — even  while  I  kiss 
Thy  garment's  hem  with  transport,  can  it  be 

That  doubt  should  mingle  with  my  filial  joy  ? 

Deal  with  me  as  thou  wilt,  but  spare  this  boy." 

XXXIX. 

High  and  inscrutable  the  old  man  stood, 

Calm  in  his  voice,  and  calm  within  his  eye — 
Not  always  signs  with  him  of  calmest  mood  : 

He  looked  upon  her,  but  gave  no  reply ; 
Then  turned  to  Juan,  in  whose  cheek  the  blood 

Oft  came  and  went,  as  there  resolved  to  die ; 
In  arms,  at  least,  he  stood,  in  act  to  spring 
On  the  first  foe  whom  Lambro's  call  might  bring. 

VOL.  vi.  o 


194  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

XL. 
"  Young  man,  your  sword ; "  so  Lambro  once  more  said  : 

Juan  replied,  "  Not  while  this  arm  is  free." 
The  old  man's  cheek  grew  pale,  but  not  with  dread, 

And  drawing  from  his  belt  a  pistol  he 
Replied,  "  Your  blood  be  then  on  your  own  head." 

Then  looked  close  at  the  flint,  as  if  to  see 
'T  was  fresh — for  he  had  lately  used  the  lock — 
And  next  proceeded  quietly  to  cock. 

XLI. 
It  has  a  strange  quick  jar  upon  the  ear, 

That  cocking  of  a  pistol,  when  you  know 
A  moment  more  will  bring  the  sight  to  bear 

Upon  your  person,  twelve  yards  off,  or  so ; 
A  gentlemanly  distance,  not  too  near, 

If  you  have  got  a  former  friend  for  foe ; 
But  after  being  fired  at  once  or  twice, 
The  ear  becomes  more  Irish,  and  less  nice. 

XLII. 
Lambro  presented,  and  one  instant  more 

Had  stopped  this  Canto,  and  Don  Juan's  breath, 
When  Haide'e  threw  herself  her  boy  before ; 

Stern  as  her  sire  :  "  On  me,"  she  cried,  "  let  Death 
Descend — the  fault  is  mine ;  this  fatal  shore 

He  found — but  sought  not.    I  have  pledged  my  faith ; 
I  love  him — I  will  die  with  him  :  I  knew 
Your  nature's  firmness — know  your  daughter's  too." 

XLIII. 
A  minute  past,  and  she  had  been  all  tears, 

And  tenderness,  and  infancy ;  but  now 
She  stood  as  one  who  championed  human  fears — 

Pale,  statue-like,  and  stern,  she  wooed  the  blow ; 
And  tall  beyond  her  sex,  and  their  compeers, 

She  drew  up  to  her  height,  as  if  to  show 
A  fairer  mark ;  and  with  a  fixed  eye  scanned 
Her  Father's  face — but  never  stopped  his  hand. 

XLIV. 

He  gazed  on  her,  and  she  on  him ;  't  was  strange 
How  like  they  looked  !  the  expression  was  the  same ; 


CANTO  IV.] 


DON    JUAN. 


195 


Serenely  savage,  with  a  little  change 

In  the  large  dark  eye's  mutual-darted  flame ; 

For  she,  too,  was  as  one  who  could  avenge, 
If  cause  should  be — a  Lioness,  though  tame. 

Her  Father's  blood  before  her  Father's  face 

Boiled  up,  and  proved  her  truly  of  his  race. 

XLV. 
I  said  they  were  alike,  their  features  and 

Their  stature,  differing  but  in  sex  and  years ; 
Even  to  the  delicacy  of  their  hand  * 

There  was  resemblance,  such  as  true  blood  wears ; 
And  now  to  see  them,  thus  divided,  stand 

In  fixed  ferocity,  when  joyous  tears 
And  sweet  sensations  should  have  welcomed  both, 
Shows  what  the  passions  are  in  their  full  growth. 

XLVI. 
The  father  paused  a  moment,  then  withdrew 

His  weapon,  and  replaced  it  j  but  stood  still, 
And  looking  on  her,  as  to  look  her  through, 

"  Not  /,"  he  said,  "  have  sought  this  stranger's  ill ; 
Not  /  have  made  this  desolation  :  few 

Would  bear  such  outrage,  and  forbear  to  kill ; 
But  I  must  do  my  duty — how  thou  hast 
Done  thine,  the  present  vouches  for  the  past.1 

XL  VI  I. 

"  Let  him  disarm ;  or,  by  my  father's  head, 
His  own  shall  roll  before  you  like  a  ball ! " 

He  raised  his  whistle,  as  the  word  he  said, 
And  blew ;  another  answered  to  the  call, 

i.  And  if  I  did  my  duty  as  thou  hast, 

This  hour  were  thine,  and  thy  young  minion's  last. — [MS.] 

i.  [The  reader  will  observe  a  curious  mark  of  propinquity  which  the 
poet  notices,  with  respect  to  the  hands  of  the  father  and  daughter. 
Lord  Byron,  we  suspect,  is  indebted  for  the  first  hint  of  this  to  Ali 
Pacha,  who,  by  the  bye,  is  the  original  of  Lambro  ;  for,  when  his 
lordship  was  introduced,  with  his  friend  Hobhouse,  to  that  agreeable 
mannered  tyrant,  the  Vizier  said  that  he  knew  he  was  the  Megalos 
Anthropos  (i.e.  the  great  Man),  by  the  smallness  of  his  ears  and  hands. 
— Gait.  See  Byron's  letter  to  his  mother,  November  12,  1809,  Letters, 
1898,  i.  251.] 


196  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

And  rushing  in  disorderly,  though  led, 

And  armed  from  boot  to  turban,  one  and  all, 
Some  twenty  of  his  train  came,  rank  on  rank ; 
He  gave  the  word, — "  Arrest  or  slay  the  Frank." 

XLVIII. 
Then,  with  a  sudden  movement,  he  withdrew 

His  daughter ;  while  compressed  within  his  clasp, 
'Twixt  her  and  Juan  interposed  the  crew ; 

In  vain  she  struggled  in  her  father's  grasp — 
His  arms  were  like  a  serpent's  coil :  then  flew 

Upon  their  prey,  as  darts  an  angry  asp, 
The  file  of  pirates — save  the  foremost,  who 
Had  fallen,  with  his  right  shoulder  half  cut  through. 

XLIX. 
The  second  had  his  cheek  laid  open ;  but 

The  third,  a  wary,  cool  old  sworder,  took 
The  blows  upon  his  cutlass,  and  then  put 

His  own  well  in ;  so  well,  ere  you  could  look, 
His  man  was  floored,  and  helpless  at  his  foot, 

With  the  blood  running  like  a  little  brook 
From  two  smart  sabre  gashes,  deep  and  red — 
One  on  the  arm,  the  other  on  the  head. 

L. 
And  then  they  bound  him  where  he  fell,  and  bore 

Juan  from  the  apartment :  with  a  sign 
Old  Lambro  bade  them  take  him  to  the  shore, 

Where  lay  some  ships  which  were  to  sail  at  nine.'- 
They  laid  him  in  a  boat,  and  plied  the  oar 

Until  they  reached  some  galliots,  placed  in  line ; 
On  board  of  one  of  these,  and  under  hatches, 
They  stowed  him,  with  strict  orders  to  the  watches. 

LI. 

The  world  is  full  of  strange  vicissitudes, 
And  here  was  one  exceedingly  unpleasant : 

A  gentleman  so  rich  in  the  world's  goods, 

Handsome  and  young,  enjoying  all  the  present,"- 

i.    Till  further  orders  should  his  doom  assign. — 
ii.  Loving  and  loved .  — [MS. ] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON   JUAN.  197 

Just  at  the  very  time  when  he  least  broods 
On  such  a  thing,  is  suddenly  to  sea  sent, 
Wounded  and  chained,  so  that  he  cannot  move, 
And  all  because  a  lady  fell  in  love. 

LIT. 
Here  I  must  leave  him,  for  I  grow  pathetic, 

Moved  by  the  Chinese  nymph  of  tears,  green  tea ! 
Than  whom  Cassandra  was  not  more  prophetic ; 

For  if  my  pure  libations  exceed  three, 
I  feel  my  heart  become  so  sympathetic, 

That  I  must  have  recourse  to  black  Bohea : 
'T  is  pity  wine  should  be  so  deleterious, 
For  tea  and  coffee  leave  us  much  more  serious, 

LIII. 

Unless  when  qualified  with  thee,  Cogniac ! 

Sweet  Nai'ad  of  the  Phlegethontic  rill ! 
Ah  !  why  the  liver  wilt  thou  thus  attack,'- 

And  make,  like  other  nymphs,  thy  lovers  ill  ? 
I  would  take  refuge  in  weak  punch,  but  rack 

(In  each  sense  of  the  word),  whene'er  I  fill 
My  mild  and  midnight  beakers  to  the  brim, 
Wakes  me  next  morning  with  its  synonym.1 

LIV. 
I  leave  Don  Juan  for  the  present,  safe — 

Not  sound,  poor  fellow,  but  severely  wounded ; 
Yet  could  his  corporal  pangs  amount  to  half 

Of  those  with  which  his  Haide'e's  bosom  bounded  ? 
She  was  not  one  to  weep,  and  rave,  and  chafe, 

And  then  give  way,  subdued  because  surrounded ; 
Her  mother  was  a  Moorish  maid  from  Fez, 
Where  all  is  Eden,  or  a  wilderness. 

i.       But  thou,  sweet  fury  of  the  fiery  rill, 
Makest  on  the  liver  a  still  worse  attack  ; 
Besides,  thy  f  rice  is  something  dearer  still. — [MS.~\ 

i.  ["As  squire  Sullen  says,  '  My  head  aches  consumedly.'  'Scrub, 
bring  me  a  dram  ! '  Drank  some  Imola  wine,  and  some  punch  !  " — 
Extracts  from  a  Diary,  February  25,  1821,  Letters,  1901,  v.  209.  For 
rack  or  "arrack  "  punch,  see  Thackeray's  Vanity  Fair,  A  Novel  with- 
out a  Hero,  chap.  vi.  ed.  1892,  p.  44.] 


198  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

LV. 

There  the  large  olive  rains  its  amber  store 

In  marble  fonts ;  there  grain,  and  flower,  and  fruit, 

Gush  from  the  earth  until  the  land  runs  o'er ; l 
But  there,  too,  many  a  poison-tree  has  root, 

And  Midnight  listens  to  the  lion's  roar, 

And  long,  long  deserts  scorch  the  camel's  foot, 

Or  heaving  whelm  the  helpless  caravan ; 

And  as  the  soil  is,  so  the  heart  of  man. 

LVI. 
Afric  is  all  the  Sun's,  and  as  her  earth 

Her  human  clay  is  kindled ;  full  of  power 
For  good  or  evil,  burning  from  its  birth, 

The  Moorish  blood  partakes  the  planet's  hour, 
And  like  the  soil  beneath  it  will  bring  forth : 

Beauty  and  love  were  HaideVs  mother's  dower ; 
But  her  large  dark  eye  showed  deep  Passion's  force, 
Though  sleeping  like  a  lion  near  a  source.'- 

LVI  I. 

Her  daughter,  tempered  with  a  milder  ray, 

Like  summer  clouds  all  silvery,  smooth,  and  fair, 

Till  slowly  charged  with  thunder  they  display 
Terror  to  earth,  and  tempest  to  the  air, 

Had  held  till  now  her  soft  and  milky  way ; 
But  overwrought  with  Passion  and  Despair, 

The  fire  burst  forth  from  her  Numidian  veins, 

Even  as  the  Simoom 2  sweeps  the  blasted  plains. 

i.  Beauty  and  Passion  were  the  natural  dower 
Of  Haidte's  mother,  but  her  climate' s  force 
Lay  at  her  heart,  though  sleeping  at  the  source. 

or,  But  in  her  large  eye  lay  deep  Passion  s  force, 
Like  to  a  lion  sleeping  by  a  source. 

or,  But  in  her  large  eye  lay  deep  Passion  s  force. 
As  sleeps  a  lion  by  a  river  s  source. — [AfS.] 

1.  ["  At  Fas  [Fez]  the  houses  of  the  great  and  wealthy  have,  within- 
side,  spacious  courts,  adorned  with  sumptuous  galleries,  fountains, 
basons  of  fine  marble,  and  fish-ponds,  shaded  with  orange,  lemon, 
pomegranate,  and  fig  trees,  abounding  with  fruit,  and  ornamented 
with  roses,  hyacinths,  jasmine,  violets,  and  orange  flowers,  emitting  a 
delectable  fragrance." — Account  of  the  Empire  of  Morocco  and  Sues, 
by  James  Grey  Jackson,  1811,  pp.  69,  70.] 

2.  [Compare  Manfred,  act  iii.  sc.  i,  line  128,  Poetical  Works,  1901, 
iv.  125.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON   JUAN.  199 

LVIII. 

The  last  sight  which  she  saw  was  Juan's  gore, 
And  he  himself  o'ermastered  and  cut  down ; 

His  blood  was  running  on  the  very  floor 
Where  late  he  trod,  her  beautiful,  her  own ; 

Thus  much  she  viewed  an  instant  and  no  more, — 
Her  struggles  ceased  with  one  convulsive  groan ; 

On  her  Sire's  arm,  which  until  now  scarce  held 

Her  writhing,  fell  she  like  a  cedar  felled. 

LIX. 
A  vein  had  burst,  and  her  sweet  lips'  pure  dyes  '• 

Were  dabbled  with  the  deep  blood  which  ran  o'er ; 1 
And  her  head  drooped,  as  when  the  lily  lies 

O'ercharged  with  rain  :  her  summoned  handmaids  bore 
Their  lady  to  her  couch  with  gushing  eyes ; 

Of  herbs  and  cordials  they  produced  their  store, 
But  she  defied  all  means  they  could  employ, 
Like  one  Life  could  not  hold,  nor  Death  destroy. 

LX. 
Days  lay  she  in  that  state  unchanged,  though  chill — 

With  nothing  livid,  still  her  lips  were  red ; 
She  had  no  pulse,  but  Death  seemed  absent  still ; 

No  hideous  sign  proclaimed  her  surely  dead ; 
Corruption  came  not  in  each  mind  to  kill 

All  hope ;  to  look  upon  her  sweet  face  bred 
New  thoughts  of  Life,  for  it  seemed  full  of  soul — 
She  had  so  much,  Earth  could  not  claim  the  whole. 

i.    The  blood  gushed  from  her  lips,  and  ears,  and  eyes: 
Those  eyes,  so  beautiful — beheld  no  more. — [MS.] 

i.  This  is  no  very  uncommon  effect  of  the  violence  of  conflicting  and 
different  passions.  The  Doge  Francis  Foscari,  on  his  deposition  in 
1457,  hearing  the  bells  of  St.  Mark  announce  the  election  of  his  suc- 
cessor, ' '  mourut  subitement  d'une  he'morragie  cause'e  par  une  veine 
qui  s'e'clata  dans  sa  poitrine  "  [see  Sismondi,  1815,  x.  46,  and  Daru, 
1821,  ii.  536;  see,  too,  The  Two  Foscari,  act  v.  sc.  i,  line  306,  and 
Introduction  to  the  Two  Foscari,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  118,  193], 
at  the  age  of  eighty  years,  when  "  Who  would  have  thought  the  old 
man  had  so  much  blood  in  him?"  (Macbeth,  act  v.  sc.  i,  lines  34-36.) 
Before  I  was  sixteen  years  of  age  I  was  witness  to  a  melancholy  instance 
of  the  same  effect  of  mixed  passions  upon  a  young  person,  who, 
however,  did  not  die  in  consequence,  at  that  time,  but  fell  a  victim 
some  years  afterwards  to  a  seizure  of  the  same  kind,  arising  from 
causes  intimately  connected  with  agitation  of  mind. 


200  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

LXI. 

The  ruling  passion,  such  as  marble  shows 
When  exquisitely  chiselled,  still  lay  there, 

But  fixed  as  marble's  unchanged  aspect  throws 
O'er  the  fair  Venus,  but  for  ever  fair ; 1 

O'er  the  Laocoon's  all  eternal  throes, 
And  ever-dying  Gladiator's  air, 

Their  energy  like  life  forms  all  their  fame, 

Yet  looks  not  life,  for  they  are  still  the  same. — L 

LXII. 
She  woke  at  length,  but  not  as  sleepers  wake, 

Rather  the  dead,  for  Life  seemed  something  new, 
A  strange  sensation  which  she  must  partake 

Perforce,  since  whatsoever  met  her  view 
Struck  not  on  memory,  though  a  heavy  ache 

Lay  at  her  heart,  whose  earliest  beat  still  true 
Brought  back  the  sense  of  pain  without  the  cause, 
For,  for  a  while,  the  Furies  made  a  pause. 

LXIII. 
She  looked  on  many  a  face  with  vacant  eye, 

On  many  a  token  without  knowing  what : 
She  saw  them  watch  her  without  asking  why, 

And  recked  not  who  around  her  pillow  sat ; 
Not  speechless,  though  she  spoke  not — not  a  sigh 

Relieved  her  thoughts — dull  silence  and  quick  chat 
Were  tried  in  vain  by  those  who  served ;  she  gave 
No  sign,  save  breath,  of  having  left  the  grave. 

i.  Distinct  from  life,  as  being  still  the  same. — [MS.] 

i.  [The  view  of  the  Venus  of  Medici  instantly  suggests  the  lines  in 
the  "Seasons "  [the  description  of  "  Musidora  bathing "  in  Summer] — 

"...  With  wild  surprise, 
As  if  to  marble  struck,  devoid  of  sense, 
A  stupid  moment  motionless  she  stood  : 
So  stands  the  statue  that  enchants  the  world." 

Hobhouse. 

A  still  closer  parallel  to  this  stanza,  and  to  Childe  Harold,  Canto  IV. 


,     .    __      group,  are 

commemorated  as  typical  works  of  art.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON    JUAN.  2OI 

LXIV. 

Her  handmaids  tended,  but  she  heeded  not ; 

Her  Father  watched,  she  turned  her  eyes  away ; 
She  recognised  no  being,  and  no  spot, 

However  dear  or  cherished  in  their  day ; 
They  changed  from  room  to  room — but  all  forgot — 

Gentle,  but  without  memory  she  lay ; 
At  length  those  eyes,  which  they  would  fain  be  weaning 
Back  to  old  thoughts,  waxed  full  of  fearful  meaning. 

LXV. 
And  then  a  slave  bethought  her  of  a  harp  ; 

The  harper  came,  and  tuned  his  instrument ; 
At  the  first  notes,  irregular  and  sharp, 

On  him  her  flashing  eyes  a  moment  bent, 
Then  to  the  wall  she  turned  as  if  to  warp 

Her  thoughts  from  sorrow  through  her  heart  re-sent ; 
And  he  began  a  long  low  island-song 
Of  ancient  days,  ere  Tyranny  grew  strong. 

LXVI. 

Anon  her  thin  wan  fingers  beat  the  wall 

In  time  to  his  old  tune  :  he  changed  the  theme, 

And  sung  of  Love ;  the  fierce  name  struck  through  all 
Her  recollection ;  on  her  flashed  the  dream 

Of  what  she  was,  and  is,  if  ye  could  call 
To  be  so  being ;  in  a  gushing  stream 

The  tears  rushed  forth  from  her  o'erclouded  brain, 

Like  mountain  mists  at  length  dissolved  in  rain. 

LXVII. 
Short  solace,  vain  relief ! — Thought  came  too  quick, 

And  whirled  her  brain  to  madness ;  she  arose 
As  one  who  ne'er  had  dwelt  among  the  sick, 

And  flew  at  all  she  met,  as  on  her  foes ; 
But  no  one  ever  heard  her  speak  or  shriek, 

Although  her  paroxysm  drew  towards  its  close  ; — 
Hers  was  a  frenzy  which  disdained  to  rave, 
Even  when  they  smote  her,  in  the  hope  to  save. 

LXVIII. 

Yet  she  betrayed  at  times  a  gleam  of  sense ; 
Nothing  could  make  her  meet  her  Father's  face, 


202  DON   JUAN.  [CANTO  IV. 

Though  on  all  other  things  with  looks  intense 
She  gazed,  but  none  she  ever  could  retrace ; 

Food  she  refused,  and  raiment ;  no  pretence 
Availed  for  either ;  neither  change  of  place, 

Nor  time,  nor  skill,  nor  remedy,  could  give  her 

Senses  to  sleep — the  power  seemed  gone  for  ever. 

LXIX. 
Twelve  days  and  nights  she  withered  thus ;  at  last, 

Without  a  groan,  or  sigh,  or  glance,  to  show 
A  parting  pang,  the  spirit  from  her  passed : 

And  they  who  watched  her  nearest  could  not  know 
The  very  instant,  till  the  change  that  cast 

Her  sweet  face  into  shadow,  dull  and  slow,1 
Glazed  o'er  her  eyes — the  beautiful,  the  black — 
Oh  !  to  possess  such  lustre — and  then  lack  ! 

LXX. 

She  died,  but  not  alone ;  she  held,  within, 
A  second  principle  of  Life,  which  might 

Have  dawned  a  fair  and  sinless  child  of  sin  ; ''• 
But  closed  its  little  being  without  light, 

And  went  down  to  the  grave  unborn,  wherein 
Blossom  and  bough  lie  withered  with  one  blight ; 

In  vain  the  dews  of  Heaven  descend  above 

The  bleeding  flower  and  blasted  fruit  of  Love. 

LXXI. 
Thus  lived — thus  died  she ;  never  more  on  her 

Shall  Sorrow  light,  or  Shame.     She  was  not  made 
Through  years  or  moons  the  inner  weight  to  bear, 

Which  colder  hearts  endure  till  they  are  laid 
By  age  in  earth :  her  days  and  pleasures  were 

Brief,  but  delightful — such  as  had  not  staid 
Long  with  her  destiny ;  but  she  sleeps  well 1 
By  the  sea-shore,  whereon  she  loved  to  dwell. 

i.  working  slcnv. — [MS.] 

ii.  Have  dawned  a  child  of  beauty ,  though  of  sin. — [MS.] 

I.  ["  •  •  •  Duncan  is  in  his  grave  : 

After  life's  fitful  fever  he  sleeps  well." 

Macbeth,  act  iii.  sc.  2,  lines  22,  23.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON    JUAN.  203 

LXXII. 

That  isle  is  now  all  desolate  and  bare, 

Its  dwellings  down,  its  tenants  passed  away ; 

None  but  her  own  and  Father's  grave  is  there, 
And  nothing  outward  tells  of  human  clay ; 

Ye  could  not  know  where  lies  a  thing  so  fair, 
No  stone  is  there  to  show,  no  tongue  to  say, 

What  was ;  no  dirge,  except  the  hollow  sea's,'- 

Mourns  o'er  the  beauty  of  the  Cyclades. 

LXXIII. 
But  many  a  Greek  maid  in  a  loving  song 

Sighs  o'er  her  name ;  and  many  an  islander 
With  her  Sire's  story  makes  the  night  less  long ; 

Valour  was  his,  and  Beauty  dwelt  with  her : 
If  she  loved  rashly,  her  life  paid  for  wrong — 

A  heavy  price  must  all  pay  who  thus  err, 
In  some  shape ;  let  none  think  to  fly  the  danger, 
For  soon  or  late  Love  is  his  own  avenger. 

LXXIV. 

But  let  me  change  this  theme,  which  grows  too  sad, 
And  lay  this  sheet  of  sorrows  on  the  shelf; 

I  don't  much  like  describing  people  mad, 
For  fear  of  seeming  rather  touched  myself — 

Besides,  I  've  no  more  on  this  head  to  add ; 
And  as  my  Muse  is  a  capricious  elf, 

We  '11  put  about,  and  try  another  tack 

With  Juan,  left  half-killed  some  stanzas  back. 

LXXV. 
Wounded  and  fettered,  "  cabined,  cribbed,  confined,"  l 

Some  days  and  nights  elapsed  before  that  he 
Could  altogether  call  the  past  to  mind ; 

And  when  he  did,  he  found  himself  at  sea, 
Sailing  six  knots  an  hour  before  the  wind ; 

The  shores  of  Ilion  lay  beneath  their  lee — 

i.       No  stone  is  there  to  read,  nor  tongue  to  say, 
No  dirge — save  when  arise  the  stormy  seas. — [MS.  ] 

i.  ["  But  now  I  am  cabined,  cribbed,"  etc. 

Macbeth,  act  iii.  sc.  4, --line  24.] 


204  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

Another  time  he  might  have  liked  to  see  'em, 
But  now  was  not  much  pleased  with  Cape  Sigeum. 

LXXVI. 
There,  on  the  green  and  village-cotted  hill,  is 

(Flanked  by  the  Hellespont,  and  by  the  sea) 
Entombed  the  bravest  of  the  brave,  Achilles  ; 

They  say  so  —  (Bryant  1  says  the  contrary)  : 
And  further  downward,  tall  and  towering  still,  is 

The  tumulus  —  of  whom  ?  Heaven  knows  !  't  may  be 
Patroclus,  Ajax,  or  Protesilaus  — 
All  heroes,  who  if  living  still  would  slay  us.'- 

LXXVI  I. 

High  barrows,  without  marble,  or  a  name, 
A  vast,  untilled,  and  mountain-skirted  plain  ,"• 

And  Ida  in  the  distance,  still  the  same, 
And  old  Scamander  (if  't  is  he)  remain  ; 

The  situation  seems  still  formed  for  fame  — 
A  hundred  thousand  men  might  fight  again, 

With  ease  ;  but  where  I  sought  for  Ilion's  walls, 

The  quiet  sheep  feeds,  and  the  tortoise  2  crawls  ;  ill- 


i.  All  heroes  {  ^ff^^  }.-(MS.     Alternative  reading.} 

(  and  mountain-bounded  \  .,   • 
\  and  mountain-outlined]  ftain-~ 

[MS.     Alternative  reading.} 
iii.  -  and  land-tortoise  crawls.  —  [MS.     Alternative  reading.} 

1.  [Jacob  Bryant  (1715-1804)  published  his  Dissertation  concerning 
the  War  of  Troy,  etc.,  in  1796.     See  The  Bride  of  Abydos,  Canto  II. 
lines  510,  sg.,  Poetical  Works,  1900,  iii.  179,  note  i.    See,  too,  Extracts 
from  a  Diary,  January  n,  1821,  Letters,  1901,  v.   165,   166,   "I  have 
stood  upon  that  plain  [of  Troy]  daily,  for  more  than  a  month,  in  1810  ; 
and  if  anything  diminished  my  pleasure,  it  was  that  the  blackguard 
Bryant  had  impugned  its  veracity."     Hobhouse,  in  his  Travels  in 
Albania,  1858,  ii.  93,  sq.  ,  discusses  at  length  the  identity  of  the  barrows 
of  the  Troad  with  the  tumuli  of  Achilles,  Ajax,  and  Protesilaus,  and 
refutes  Bryant's  arguments  against  the  identity  of  Cape  Janissary  and 
the  Sigean  promontory.] 

2.  ["The  whole  region  was,   in  a  manner,  in  possession  of  the 
Salsette's  crew,  parties  of  whom,  in  their  white  summer  dresses,  might 
be  seen  scattered  over  the  plains  collecting  the  tortoises,  which  swarm 
on  the  sides  of  the  rivulets,  and  are  found  under  every  furze-bush."  — 
Travels  in  Albania,  1858,  ii.  116.     See,  too,  for  mention  of  '  '  hundreds 

of  tortoises  "  falling  "  from  the  overhanging  branches,  and  thick  under- 
wood," into  the  waters  of  the  Mender,  Travels,  etc.,  by  E.  D.  Clarke, 
1812,  Part  II.  sect.  i.  p.  96.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON    JUAN.  205 

LXXVI1I. 

Troops  of  untended  horses ;  here  and  there 
Some  little  hamlets,  with  new  names  uncouth  ; 

Some  shepherds  (unlike  Paris)  led  to  stare 
A  moment  at  the  European  youth 

Whom  to  the  spot  their  school-boy  feelings  bear ;  '• 
A  Turk,  with  beads  in  hand,  and  pipe  in  mouth, 

Extremely  taken  with  his  own  religion, 

Are  what  I  found  there — but  the  devil  a  Phrygian. 

LXXIX. 
Don  Juan,  here  permitted  to  emerge 

From  his  dull  cabin,  found  himself  a  slave ; 
Forlorn,  and  gazing  on  the  deep  blue  surge, 

O'ershadowed  there  by  many  a  Hero's  grave ; 
Weak  still  with  loss  of  blood,  he  scarce  could  urge 

A  few  brief  questions ;  and  the  answers  gave 
No  very  satisfactory  information 
About  his  past  or  present  situation. 

LXXX. 
He  saw  some  fellow  captives,  who  appeared 

To  be  Italians  (as  they  were  in  fact) — 
From  them,  at  least,  their  destiny  he  heard, 

Which  was  an  odd  one  ;  a  troop  going  to  act 
In  Sicily — all  singers,  duly  reared 

In  their  vocation,  had  not  been  attacked 
In  sailing  from  Livorno  by  the  pirate, 
But  sold  by  the  impresario  at  no  high  rate.1 

i.  their  learned  researches  bear. — [MS.     Alternative  reading.} 

i.  This  is  a  fact.  A  few  years  ago  a  man  engaged  a  company  for 
some  foreign  theatre,  embarked  them  at  an  Italian  port,  and  carrying 
them  to  Algiers,  sold  them  all.  One  of  the  women,  returned  from  her 
captivity,  I  heard  sing,  by  a  strange  coincidence,  in  Rossini's  opera  of 
L  Italiana  in  Algieri,  at  Venice,  in  the  beginning  of  1817. 

[We  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  following,  which  we  take  from 
the  MS.  journal  of  a  highly  respectable  traveller,  is  a  more  correct 
account :  "  In  1812  a  Signor  Guariglia  induced  several  young  persons 
of  both  sexes — none  of  them  exceeding  fifteen  years  of  age — to  accom- 
pany him  on  an  operatic  excursion ;  part  to  form  the  opera,  and  part 
the  ballet.  He  contrived  to  get  them  on  board  a  vessel,  which  took 
them  to  Janina,  where  he  sold  them  for  the  basest  purposes.  Some 
died  from  the  effect  of  the  climate,  and  some  from  suffering.  Among 
the  few  who  returned  were  a  Signor  Molinari,  and  a  female  dancer 


206  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

LXXXI. 

By  one  of  these,  the  buffo  1  of  the  party, 
Juan  was  told  about  their  curious  case ; 

For  although  destined  to  the  Turkish  mart,  he 
Still  kept  his  spirits  up — at  least  his  face ; 

The  little  fellow  really  looked  quite  hearty, 
And  bore  him  with  some  gaiety  and  grace, 

Showing  a  much  more  reconciled  demeanour, 

Than  did  the  prima  donna  and  the  tenor. 

LXXXII. 
In  a  few  words  he  told  their  hapless  story, 

Saying,  "  Our  Machiavelian  impresario <, 
Making  a  signal  off  some  promontory, 

Hailed  a  strange  brig — Corpo  di  Caio  Mario  ! 
We  were  transferred  on  board  her  in  a  hurry, 

Without  a  single  scudo  of  salario  ; 
But  if  the  Sultan  has  a  taste  for  song, 
We  will  revive  our  fortunes  before  long. 

LXXXIII. 
"  The  prima  donna,  though  a  little  old, 

And  haggard  with  a  dissipated  life, 
And  subject,  when  the  house  is  thin,  to  cold, 

Has  some  good  notes ;  and  then  the  tenor's  wife, 
With  no  great  voice,  is  pleasing  to  behold ; 

Last  carnival  she  made  a  deal  of  strife, 
By  carrying  off  Count  Cesare  Cicogna 
From  an  old  Roman  Princess  at  Bologna. 

LXXXIV. 
"  And  then  there  are  the  dancers ;  there  's  the  Nini, 

With  more  than  one  profession  gains  by  all ; 
Then  there  's  that  laughing  slut  the  Pelegrini, 

She,  too,  was  fortunate  last  Carnival, 

named  Bonfiglia,  who  afterwards  became  the  wife  of  Crespi,  the  tenor 
singer.  The  wretch  who  so  basely  sold  them  was,  when  Lord  Byron 
resided  at  Venice,  employed  as  capo  de'  vestarj,  or  head  tailor,  at  the 
Fenice." — Maria  Graham  (Lady  Callcot).  Ed.  1832.] 

i.  [A  comic  singer  in  the  opera  buffa.  The  Italians,  however,  dis- 
tinguish the  buffo  cantante,  which  requires  good  singing,  from  the  buffo 
cuinico,  in  which  there  is  more  acting. — Ed.  1832.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON   JUAN.  207 

And  made  at  least  five  hundred  good  zecckini, 
But  spends  so  fast,  she  has  not  now  a  paul  j 
And  then  there  's  the  Grotesca — such  a  dancer  ! 
Where  men  have  souls  or  bodies  she  must  answer. 

LXXXV. 

"As  for  ti&fguranti*  they  are  like 

The  rest  of  all  that  tribe ;  with  here  and  there 

A  pretty  person,  which  perhaps  may  strike — 
The  rest  are  hardly  fitted  for  a  fair ; 

There  's  one,  though  tall  and  stiffer  than  a  pike, 
Yet  has  a  sentimental  kind  of  air 

Which  might  go  far,  but  she  don't  dance  with  vigour — 

The  more  's  the  pity,  with  her  face  and  figure. 

LXXXVI. 
"  As  for  the  men,  they  are  a  middling  set ; 

The  musico  is  but  a  cracked  old  basin, 
But,  being  qualified  in  one  way  yet, 

May  the  seraglio  do  to  set  his  face  in,'r 
And  as  a  servant  some  preferment  get ; 

His  singing  I  no  further  trust  can  place  in  : 
From  all  the  Pope 2  makes  yearly  't  would  perplex 
To  find  three  perfect  pipes  of  the  third  sex. 

LXXXVI  I. 

"  The  tenor's  voice  is  spoilt  by  affectation ; 

And  for  the  bass,  the  beast  can  only  bellow — 
In  fact,  he  had  no  singing  education, 

An  ignorant,  noteless,  timeless,  tuneless  fellow ; 

i.    To  help  the  ladies  in  their  dress  and  lacing. — [Af5.] 

1.  [The  figuranti  are  those  dancers  of  a  ballet  who  do  not  dance 
singly,  but  many  together,  and  serve  to  fill  up  the  background  during 
the  exhibition  of   individual   performers.      They  correspond  to  the 
chorus  in  the  opera. — Maria  Graham.] 

2.  It  is  strange  that  it  should  be  the  Pope  and  the  Sultan,  who  are 
the  chief  encouragers  of  this  branch  of  trade — women  being  prohibited 
as  singers  at  St.  Peter's,  and  not  deemed  trustworthy  as  guardians  of 
the  harem. 

["Scarcely  a  soul  of  them  can  read.  Pacchierotti  was  one  of  the 
best  informed  of  the  castrati  .  .  .  Marchesi  is  so  grossly  ignorant  that 
he  wrote  the  word  opera,  opperra,  but  Nature  has  been  so  bountiful  to 
the  animal,  that  his  ignorance  and  insolence  were  forgotten  the  moment 
he  sang." — Venice,  etc.,  by  a  Lady  of  Rank,  1824,  ii.  86.] 


zoS  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

But  being  the  prima  donna's  near  relation, 

Who  swore  his  voice  was  very  rich  and  mellow, 
They  hired  him,  though  to  hear  him  you  'd  believe 
An  ass  was  practising  recitative. 

LXXXVIII. 
"  'T  would  not  become  myself  to  dwell  upon 

My  own  merits,  and  though  young — I  see,  Sir — you 
Have  got  a  travelled  air,  which  speaks  you  one 

To  whom  the  opera  is  by  no  means  new : 
You  've  heard  of  Raucocanti  ? — I  'm  the  man ; 

The  time  may  come  when  you  may  hear  me  too ; 
You  was x  not  last  year  at  the  fair  of  Lugo, 
But  next,  when  I  'm  engaged  to  sing  there — do  go. 

LXXXIX. 
"  Our  baritone  I  almost  had  forgot, 

A  pretty  lad,  but  bursting  with  conceit ; 
With  graceful  action,  science  not  a  jot, 

A  voice  of  no  great  compass,  and  not  sweet, 
He  always  is  complaining  of  his  lot, 

Forsooth,  scarce  fit  for  ballads  in  the  street ; 
In  lovers'  parts  his  passion  more  to  breathe, 
Having  no  heart  to  show,  he  shows  his  teeth."  '• 

xc. 
Here  Raucocanti' s  eloquent  recital 

Was  interrupted  by  the  pirate  crew, 
Who  came  at  stated  moments  to  invite  all 

The  captives  back  to  their  sad  berths ;  each  threw 
A  rueful  glance  upon  the  waves,  (which  bright  all 

From  the  blue  skies  derived  a  double  blue, 
Dancing  all  free  and  happy  in  the  sun,) 
And  then  went  down  the  hatchway  one  by  one. 

xci. 

They  heard  next  day — that  in  the  Dardanelles, 
Waiting  for  his  Sublimity's  firman,2 

i.  He  never  shows  his  feelings,  but  his  teeth. — 

[MS.     Alternative  reading.} 

i.  [ThejV.  Engl.  Diet,  cites  Bunyan,  Walpole,  Fielding,  Miss  Austen, 
and  Dickens  as  authorities  for  the  plural  "  was."  See  art.  "  be."  Here, 
as  elsewhere,  Byron  wrote  as  he  spoke.] 

,     2.  ["Our  firman  arrived  from  Constantinople  on  the  soth  of  April 
(1810)."—  Travels  in  Albania,  1858,  ii.  186.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON   JUAN.  209 

The  most  imperative  of  sovereign  spells, 
Which  everybody  does  without  who  can, 

More  to  secure  them  in  their  naval  cells, 
Lady  to  lady,  well  as  man  to  man, 

Were  to  be  chained  and  lotted  out  per  couple, 

For  the  slave  market  of  Constantinople. 

xcn. 
It  seems  when  this  allotment  was  made  out, 

There  chanced  to  be  an  odd  male,  and  odd  female, 
Who  (after  some  discussion  and  some  doubt, 

If  the  soprano  might  be  deemed  to  be  male, 
They  placed  him  o'er  the  women  as  a  scout) 

Were  linked  together,  and  it  happened  the  male 
Was  Juan, — who,  an  awkward  thing  at  his  age, 
Paired  off  with  a  Bacchante  blooming  visage. 

XCIII. 

With  Raucocanti  lucklessly  was  chained 
The  tenor ;  these  two  hated  with  a  hate 

Found  only  on  the  stage,  and  each  more  pained 
With  this  his  tuneful  neighbour  than  his  fate ; 

Sad  strife  arose,  for  they  were  so  cross-grained, 
Instead  of  bearing  up  without  debate, 

That  each  pulled  different  ways  with  many  an  oath, 

"  Arcades  ambo,"  id  est — blackguards  both.'- 

xciv. 
Juan's  companion  was  a  Romagnole, 

But  bred  within  the  march  of  old  Ancona, 
With  eyes  that  looked  into  the  very  soul 

(And  other  chief  points  of  a  bella  donna), 
Bright — and  as  black  and  burning  as  a  coal ; 

And  through  her  clear  brunette  complexion  shone  a 
Great  wish  to  please — a  most  attractive  dower, 
Especially  when  added  to  the  power. 

xcv. 
But  all  that  power  was  wasted  upon  him, 

For  Sorrow  o'er  each  sense  held  stern  command ; 

i.   That  each  pulled  different  -ways — and  waxing  rough, 

Had  cuffed  each  other,  only  for  the  cuff. — [MS.} 
VOL.  VI.  P 


210  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

Her  eye  might  flash  on  his,  but  found  it  dim : 
And  though  thus  chained,  as  natural  her  hand 

Touched  his,  nor  that — nor  any  handsome  limb 
(And  she  had  some  not  easy  to  withstand) 

Could  stir  his  pulse,  or  make  his  faith  feel  brittle ; 

Perhaps  his  recent  wounds  might  help  a  little. 

xcvi. 
No  matter ;  we  should  ne'er  too  much  inquire, 

But  facts  are  facts  :  no  Knight  could  be  more  true, 
And  firmer  faith  no  Ladye-love  desire ; 

We  will  omit  the  proofs,  save  one  or  two  : 
'T  is  said  no  one  in  hand  "  can  hold  a  fire 

By  thought  of  frosty  Caucasus  "  1 — but  few, 
I  really  think — yet  Juan's  then  ordeal 
Was  more  triumphant,  and  not  much  less  real. 

xcvu. 
Here  I  might  enter  on  a  chaste  description, 

Having  withstood  temptation  in  my  youth,1- 
But  hear  that  several  people  take  exception 

At  the  first  two  books  having  too  much  truth ; 
Therefore  I  '11  make  Don  Juan  leave  the  ship  soon, 

Because  the  publisher  declares,  in  sooth, 
Through  needles'  eyes  it  easier  for  the  camel  is 
To  pass,  than  those  two  cantos  into  families. 

XCVIII. 

'T  is  all  the  same  to  me ;  I  'm  fond  of  yielding, 
And  therefore  leave  them  to  the  purer  page 

Of  Smollett,  Prior,  Ariosto,  Fielding, 
Who  say  strange  things  for  so  correct  an  age ; 2 

i.  Having  had  some  experience  in  my  youth. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  ["  O,  who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand, 

By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus?" 

Richard  H.,  act  i.  sc.  3,  lines  294,  295.] 

2.  ["Don  Juan  will  be  known,  by  and  by,  for  what  it  is  intended — a 
Satire  on  abuses  in  the  present  states  of  society,  and  not  an  eulogy  of 
vice.      It  may  be  now  and   then  voluptuous  : — I  can't   help    that. 
Ariosto  is  worse.    Smollett  (see  Lord  Strutwell  in  vol.  2id  of  R\odtriclt\ 
K[andom\  [1793,  pp.  119-127])  ten  times  worse;  and  Fielding  no  better. " 
—Letter  to  Murray,  December  25,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  155,  156.] 


CANTO  IV.] 


DON   JUAN. 


21  1 


I  once  had  great  alacrity  in  wielding 

My  pen,  and  liked  poetic  war  to  wage, 
And  recollect  the  time  when  all  this  cant 
Would  have  provoked  remarks — which  now  it  shan't. 

xcix. 
As  boys  love  rows,  my  boyhood  liked  a  squabble ; 

But  at  this  hour  I  wish  to  part  in  peace, 
Leaving  such  to  the  literary  rabble ; 

Whether  my  verse's  fame  be  doomed  to  cease 
While  the  right  hand  which  wrote  it  still  is  able, 

Or  of  some  centuries  to  take  a  lease, 
The  grass  upon  my  grave  will  grow  as  long, 
And  sigh  to  midnight  winds,  but  not  to  song. 

c. 
Of  poets  who  come  down  to  us  through  distance 

Of  time  and  tongues,  the  foster-babes  of  Fame, 
Life  seems  the  smallest  portion  of  existence ; 

Where  twenty  ages  gather  o'er  a  name, 
'T  is  as  a  snowball  which  derives  assistance 

From  every  flake,  and  yet  rolls  on  the  same, 
Even  till  an  iceberg  it  may  chance  to  grow ; 
But,  after  all,  't  is  nothing  but  cold  snow. 

ci. 
And  so  great  names  are  nothing  more  than  nominal, 

And  love  of  Glory  's  but  an  airy  lust, 
Too  often  in  its  fury  overcoming  all 

Who  would  as  't  were  identify  their  dust 
From  out  the  wide  destruction,  which,  entombing  all, 

Leaves  nothing  till  "  the  coming  of  the  just " — 
Save  change :  I  've  stood  upon  Achilles'  tomb, 
And  heard  Troy  doubted ; 1  Time  will  doubt  of  Rome. 

i.  \Vide  ante,  p.  204,  note  \.  "It  seems  hardly  to 'admit  of  doubt, 
that  the  plain  of  Anatolia,  watered  by  the  Mender,  and  backed  by  a 
mountainous  ridge,  of  which  Kazdaghy  is  the  summit,  offers  the  precise 
territory  alluded  to  by  Homer.  The  long  controversy,  excited  by  Mr. 
Bryant's  publication,  and  since  so  vehemently  agitated,  would  probably 
never  have  existed,  had  it  not  been  for  the  erroneous  maps  of  the 
country  which,  even  to  this  hour,  disgrace  our  geographical  knowledge 
of  that  part  of  Asia. "—  Tra vels,  etc.,  by  E.  D.  Clarke,  1812,  Part  II. 
sect.  i.  p.  78.] 


2i2  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

en. 
The  very  generations  of  the  dead 

Are  swept  away,  and  tomb  inherits  tomb, 
Until  the  memory  of  an  Age  is  fled, 

And,  buried,  sinks  beneath  its  offspring's  doom : 
Where  are  the  epitaphs  our  fathers  read  ? 

Save  a  few  gleaned  from  the  sepulchral  gloom 
Which  once-named  myriads  nameless  lie  beneath, 
And  lose  their  own  in  universal  Death. 

cm. 
I  canter  by  the  spot  each  afternoon 

Where  perished  in  his  fame  the  hero-boy, 
Who  lived  too  long  for  men,  but  died  too  soon 

For  human  vanity,  the  young  De  Foix  ! 
A  broken  pillar,  not  uncouthly  hewn, 

But  which  Neglect  is  hastening  to  destroy, 
Records  Ravenna's  carnage  on  its  face, 
While  weeds  and  ordure  rankle  round  the  base.1 

civ. 
I  pass  each  day  where  Dante's  bones  are  laid : 3 

A  little  cupola,  more  neat  than  solemn, 
Protects  his  dust,  but  reverence  here  is  paid  '• 

To  the  Bard's  tomb,  and  not  the  Warrior's  column  : 
The  time  must  come,  when  both  alike  decayed, 

The  Chieftain's  trophy,  and  the  Poet's  volume, 
Will  sink  where  lie  the  songs  and  wars  of  earth, 
Before  Pelides'  death,  or  Homer's  birth. 

i.  Protects  his  tomb,  but  greater  care  is  paid. — \MS.~\ 

1.  The  pillar  which  records  the  battle  of  Ravenna  is  about  two  miles 
from  the  city,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  to  the  road  towards 
Forli.    Gaston  de  Foix  [(1489-1512)  Due  de  Nemours,   nephew  of 
Louis  XII.],  who  gained  the  battle,  was  killed  in  it :  there  fell  on  both 
sides  twenty  thousand  men.     The  present  state  of  the  pillar  and  its  site 
is  described  in  the  text. 

[Beyond  the  Porta  Sisi,  about  two  miles  from  Ravenna,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Ronco,  is  a  square  pillar  (La  Colonna  de'  Francesi),  erected  in 
1557  by  Pietro  Cesi,  president  of  Romagna,  as  a  memorial  of  the  battle 
gained  by  the  combined  army  of  Louis  XII.  and  the  Duke  of  Ferrara 
over  the  troops  of  Julius  II.  and  the  King  of  Spain,  April  u,  1512. — 
Handbook  of  Northern  Italy,  p.  548.] 

2.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  IV.  stanza  Ivii.  line  i,  Poetical 
Works,  1899,  ii.  371,  note  i.     See,  too,  Preface  to  the  Prophecy  of 
Dante,  ibid.,  iv.  243.] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON   JUAN.  213 

CV. 

With  human  blood  that  column  was  cemented, 

With  human  filth  that  column  is  defiled, 
As  if  the  peasant's  coarse  contempt  were  vented 

To  show  his  loathing  of  the  spot  he  soiled :  '• 
Thus  is  the  trophy  used,  and  thus  lamented 

Should  ever  be  those  blood-hounds,  from  whose  wild 
Instinct  of  gore  and  glory  Earth  has  known 
Those  sufferings  Dante  saw  in  Hell  alone."- 

cvi. 

Yet  there  will  still  be  bards  :  though  Fame  is  smoke, 
Its  fumes  are  frankincense  to  human  thought ; 

And  the  unquiet  feelings,  which  first  woke 

Song  in  the  world,  will  seek  what  then  they  sought ;  "'• 

As  on  the  beach  the  waves  at  last  are  broke, 

Thus  to  their  extreme  verge  the  passions  brought 

Dash  into  poetry,  which  is  but  Passion, 

Or,  at  least,  was  so  ere  it  grew  a  fashion. 

cvn. 
If  in  the  course  of  such  a  life  as  was 

At  once  adventurous  and  contemplative, 
Men  who  partake  all  passions  as  they  pass, 

Acquire  the  deep  and  bitter  power  to  give iv- 
Their  images  again  as  in  a  glass, 

And  in  such  colours  that  they  seem  to  live ; 
You  may  do  right  forbidding  them  to  show  'em, 
But  spoil  (I  think)  a  very  pretty  poem.1 

>>i.        With  human  ordure  is  it  now  defiled, 
As  if  the  peasant s  scorn  this  mode  invented 

To  show  his  loathing  of  the  thing  he  soiled. — [MS.] 
ii.   Those  sufferings  once  reserved  for  Hell  alone. — [Af£.] 
iii.       Its  fumes  are  frankincense  ;  and  were  there  nought 
Even  of  this  vapour,  still  the  chilling  yoke 

Of  silence  -would  not  long  be  borne  by  Thought. — [/!/£.] 
iv.  /  have  drunk  deep  of  passions  as  they  pass. 

And  dearly  bought  the  bitter  power  to  give. — [MS.] 

i.  [See,  for  instance,  Wilson's  review  of  Don  Juan,  in  Blackwood's 
Edinburgh  Magazine,  August,  1819,  vol.  v.  p.  512,  sq,  :  "To  confess 
...  to  his  Maker,  and  to  weep  over  in  secret  agonies  the  wildest  and 
most  fantastic  transgressions  of  heart  and  mind,  is  the  part  of  a 
conscious  sinner,  in  whom  sin  has  not  become  the  sole  principle  of  life 


214  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

CVIII. 

Oh !  ye,  who  make  the  fortunes  of  all  books  ! 

Benign  Ceruleans  of  the  second  sex ! 
Who  advertise  new  poems  by  your  looks, 

Your  "  Imprimatur  "  will  ye  not  annex  ? 
What !  must  I  go  to  the  oblivious  cooks,1- 

Those  Cornish  plunderers  of  Parnassian  wrecks  ? 
Ah  !  must  I  then  the  only  minstrel  be, 
Proscribed  from  tasting  your  Castalian  tea  ! l 

cix. 

What !  can  I  prove  "  a  lion  "  then  no  more  ? 

A  ball-room  bard,  a  foolscap,  hot-press  darling  ? 
To  bear  the  compliments  of  many  a  bore, 

And  sigh,  "  I  can't  get  out,"  like  Yorick  s  starling ; 2 
Why  then  I  '11  swear,  as  poet  Wordy  swore 

(Because  the  world  won't  read  him,  always  snarling), 
That  Taste  is  gone,  that  Fame  is  but  a  lottery, 
Drawn  by  the  blue-coat  misses  of  a  coterie.3 

i.    What  I  must  I  go  with  Wordy  to  the  cooks  ? 

Read — were  U  but  your  Grandmother's  to  vex — 
And  let  me  not  the  only  minstrel  be 
Cut  off  from  tasting  your  Castalian  tea. — [MS.'] 

and  action.  .  .  .  But  to  lay  bare  to  the  eye  of  man — and  of  woman 
— all  the  hidden  convulsions  of  a  wicked  spirit,"  etc.] 

1.  [Compare — 

"  I  leave  them  to  their  daily  '  tea  is  ready,' 
Snug  coterie,  and  literary  lady." 

Beppo,  stanza  Ixxvi.  lines  7,  8, 

Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  184,  note.] 

2.  [The  caged  starling,  by  its  repeated  cry,  "  I  can't  get  out !  I  can't 
get  out ! "  cured  Yorick  of  his  sentimental  yearnings  for  imprisonment 
in  the   Bastille.      See   Sterne's  Sentimental  Journey,   ed.    1804,  pp. 
100-106.] 

3.  [In    his   Essay,  Supplement  to  the  Preface  (Poems   by   William 
Wordsworth,  ed.  1820,  iii.  315-348),  Wordsworth  maintains  that   the 

appreciation  of  great  poetry  is  a  plant  of  slow  growth,  that  immediate 
recognition  is  a  mark  of  inferiority,  or  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  the 
presence  of  adventitious  qualities:  "So  strange,  indeed,  are  the 
obliquities  of  admiration,  that  they  whose  opinions  are  much  influenced 
by  authority  will  often  be  tempted  to  think  that  there  are  no  fixed 
principles  in  human  nature  for  this  art  to  rest  upon.  .  .  .  Away,  then, 
with  the  senseless  iteration  of  the  word  popular/^  .  .  .  The  voice 
that  issues  from  this  spirit  [of  human  knowledge]  is  that  Vox  Populi 
which  the  Deity  inspires.  Foolish  must  he  be  who  can  mistake  for  this 
a  local  acclamation,  or  a  transitory  outcry — transitory  though  it  be  for 


CANTO  IV.]  DON    JUAN.  215 

CX. 

Oh  !  "  darkly,  deeply,  beautifully  blue,"  l 

As  some  one  somewhere  sings  about  the  sky, 

And  I,  ye  learne'd  ladies,  say  of  you  ; 

They  say  your  stockings  are  so  —  (Heaven  knows  why, 

I  have  examined  few  pair  of  that  hue)  ; 
Blue  as  the  garters  which  serenely  lie 

Round  the  Patrician  left-legs,  which  adorn 

The  festal  midnight,  and  the  levee  morn.*' 

CXI. 

Yet  some  of  you  are  most  seraphic  creatures  — 
But  times  are  altered  since,  a  rhyming  lover, 

You  read  my  stanzas,  and  I  read  your  features  : 
And  —  but  no  matter,  all  those  things  are  over  ; 

Still  I  have  no  dislike  to  learne'd  natures, 

For  sometimes  such  a  world  of  virtues  cover  ; 

I  knew  one  woman  of  that  purple  school, 

The  loveliest,  chastest,  best,  but  —  quite  a  fool." 

CXI  I. 

Humboldt,  "  the  first  of  travellers,"  but  not 

The  last,  if  late  accounts  be  accurate, 
Invented,  by  some  name  I  have  forgot, 

As  well  as  the  sublime  discovery's  date, 
An  airy  instrument,  with  which  he  sought 

To  ascertain  the  atmospheric  state, 

i.  Not  having  looked  at  many  of  thai  hue, 

Nor  garters  —  save  those  of  the  "  honi  soit  "-—which  he 
Round  the  Patrician  legs  which  walk  about, 
The  ornaments  of  levee  and  of  rout.  —  [ 


years,  local  though  from  a  Nation.  Still  more  lamentable  is  his  error 
who  can.  believe  that  there  is  anything  of  divine  infallibility  in  this 
clamour  of  that  small  though  loud  portion  of  the  community  ever 
governed  by  factitious  influence,  which  under  the  name  of  the  PUBLIC, 
passes  itself  upon  the  unthinking  for  the  PEOPLE."  Naturally  enough 
Byron  regarded  this  pronouncement  as  a  taunt  if  not  as  a  challenge. 
Wordsworth's  noble  appeal  from  a  provincial  to  an  imperial  authority, 
from  the  present  to  the  future,  is  not  strengthened  by  the  obvious 
reference  to  the  popularity  of  contemporaries.] 

1.  [Southey's  Madoc  in   Wales,  Poetical  Works,  Part  I.  Canto  V. 
Ed.  1838,  v.  39.] 

2.  [Probably  Lady  Charlemont.    See  "Journal,"  November  22,  1813.] 


216  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  iv. 

By  measuring  "  the  intensity  of  blue:" * 
Oh,  Lady  Daphne  !  let  me  measure  you !  '• 

cxin. 
But  to  the  narrative  : — The  vessel  bound 

With  slaves  to  sell  off  in  the  capital, 
After  the  usual  process,  might  be  found 

At  anchor  under  the  seraglio  wall ; 
Her  cargo,  from  the  plague  being  safe  and  sound, 

Were  landed  in  the  market,2  one  and  all ; 
And,  there,  with  Georgians,  Russians,  and  Circassians, 
Bought  up  for  different  purposes  and  passions. 

cxiv. 
Some  went  off  dearly ;  fifteen  hundred  dollars 

For  one  Circassian,  a  sweet  girl,  were  given, 
Warranted  virgin ;  Beauty's  brightest  colours 

Had  decked  her  out  in  all  the  hues  of  heaven  : 
Her  sale  sent  home  some  disappointed  bawlers, 

Who  bade  on  till  the  hundreds  reached  eleven ; 

i.  /  '//  back  a  London  ' '  Bas  "  against  Peru. 
or,  /  '//  bet  some  pair  of  stocking  beat  Peru. 
or,  And  so,  old  Sotheby,  we  '  II  measure  you. — [MS.] 

1.  [The  cyanometer,  an  instrument  for  ascertaining  the  intensity  of 
the  blue  colour  of  the  sky,  was  invented  by  Horace  Be'ne'dict  de  Saussure 
(1740-1799);  see  his  Essai  sur  £  Hygromttrie .     F.  H.  Alexander  von 
Humboldt  (1769-1859)   "made  great  use  of  his  instrument  on  his 
voyages,  and  ascertained  by  the  colour  the  degree  of  blueness,  the 
accumulation  and  the  nature  of  the  non-transparent  exhalations  of  the 
air." — Alexander  von  Humboldt,  by  Professor  Klencke,  translated  by 
Juliette  Bauer,  1852,  pp.  45,  46.] 

2.  ["The  slave-market  is  a  quadrangle,  surrounded  by  a  covered 
gallery,  and  ranges  of  small  and  separate  apartments. "     Here  the  poor 
wretches  sit  in  a  melancholy  posture.      "Before   they  cheapen  'em, 
they  turn  'em  about  from  this  side  to  that,  survey  'em  from  top  to 
bottom.  .  .  .  Such  of  'em,  both  men  and  women,  to  whom  Dame  Nature 
has  been  niggardly  of  her  charms,  are  set  apart  for  the  vilest  services : 
but  such  girls  as  have  youth  and  beauty  pass  their  time  well  enough.  . .  . 
The  retailers  of  this  human  ware  are  the  Jews,  who  take  good  care  of 
their  slaves'  education,  that  they  may  sell  the  better  :  their  choicest  they 
keep  at  home,  and  there  you  must  go,  if  you  would  have  better  than 
ordinary  ;  for  'tis  here,  as  'tis  in  markets  for  horses,  the  handsomest 
don't  always  appear,  but  are  kept  within  doors." — A   Voyage  into  the 
levant,  by  M.  Tournefort,  1741,  ii.  198,  199.    See,  too,  for  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  sale  of  two  Circassians  and  one  Georgian,  Voyage  de  Vienne 
a  Belgrade,    .    .    .    par   N.  'E.  Kleeman,   1780,   pp.    141,   142.     The 
"  lowest  offer  for  the  prize  Circassian  was  4000  piastres."] 


CANTO  IV.]  DON   JUAN.  21 7 

But  when  the  offer  went  beyond,  they  knew 
'T  was  for  the  Sultan,  and  at  once  withdrew. 

cxv. 

Twelve  negresses  from  Nubia  brought  a  price 

Which  the  West  Indian  market  scarce  could  bring — 

Though  Wilberforce,  at  last,  has  made  it  twice 
What 't  was  ere  Abolition ;  and  the  thing 

Need  not  seem  very  wonderful,  for  Vice 
Is  always  much  more  splendid  than  a  King : 

The  Virtues,  even  the  most  exalted,  Charity, 

Are  saving — Vice  spares  nothing  for  a  rarity. 

cxvi. 
But  for  the  destiny  of  this  young  troop, 

How  some  were  bought  by  Pachas,  some  by  Jews, 
How  some  to  burdens  were  obliged  to  stoop, 

And  others  rose  to  the  command  of  crews 
As  renegadoes ;  while  in  hapless  group, 

Hoping  no  very  old  Vizier  might  choose, 
The  females  stood,  as  one  by  one  they  picked  'em, 
To  make  a  mistress,  or  fourth  wife,  or  victim  : u 

CXVI  I. 

All  this  must  be  reserved  for  further  song ; 

Also  our  Hero's  lot,  howe'er  unpleasant 
(Because  this  Canto  has  become  too  long),"- 

Must  be  postponed  discreetly  for  the  present ; 
I  'm  sensible  redundancy  is  wrong, 

But  could  not  for  the  Muse  of  me  put  less  in  't : 
And  now  delay  the  progress  of  Don  Juan, 
Till  what  is  called  in  Ossian  the  fifth  Duan. 

Written  Nov.  1819.     Copied  January,  1820. 

i.    The  females  stood,  till  chosen  each  as  victim 

To  the  soft  oath  of  "  Ana  seing  Siktum  .'"  J — [MS.] 
ii.  For  fear  the  Canto  should  become  too  long. — [MS.] 

i.  [If  the  Turkish  words  are  correctly  given,  "the  oath  "  may  be  an 
imprecation  on  "your  mother's"  chastity.] 


2i8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 


CANTO    THE    FIFTH.1 


WHEN  amatory  poets  sing  their  loves 

In  liquid  lines  mellifluously  bland, 
And  pair  their  rhymes  as  Venus  yokes  her  doves, 

They  little  think  what  mischief  is  in  hand ; 
The  greater  their  success  the  worse  it  proves, 

As  Ovid's  verse  may  give  to  understand ; 
Even  Petrarch's  self,  if  judged  with  due  severity, 
Is  the  Platonic  pimp  of  all  posterity. 

ii. 
I  therefore  do  denounce  all  amorous  writing, 

Except  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  attract ; 
Plain — simple — short,  and  by  no  means  inviting, 

But  with  a  moral  to  each  error  tacked, 
Formed  rather  for  instructing  than  delighting, 

And  with  all  passions  in  their  turn  attacked ; 
Now,  if  my  Pegasus  should  not  be  shod  ill, 
This  poem  will  become  a  moral  model. 

in. 
The  European  with  the  Asian  shore 

Sprinkled  with  palaces — the  Ocean  stream  'l 

1.  [Canto  V.  was  begun  at  Ravenna,  October  the  i6th,  and  finished 
November  the  zoth,  1820.     It  was  published  August  8,  1821,  together 
with  Cantos  III.  and  IV.] 

2.  This  expression  of  Homer  has  been  much  criticized.     It  hardly 
answers  to  our  Atlantic  ideas  of  the  ocean,  but  is  sufficiently  applicable 
to  the  Hellespont,  and  the  Bosphorus,  with  the  ^Egean  intersected  with 
islands. 

[Vide  Iliad,  xiv.  245,  etc.     Homer's  "ocean-stream"  was  not  the 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  219 

Here  and  there  studded  with  a  seventy-four, 

Sophia's  Cupola  with  golden  gleam,1 
The  cypress  groves,  Olympus  high  and  hoar, 

The  twelve  isles,  and  the  more  than  I  could  dream, 
Far  less  describe,  present  the  very  view 
Which  charmed  the  charming  Mary  Montagu. 

IV. 

I  have  a  passion  for  the  name  of  "  Mary,"  2 
For  once  it  was  a  magic  sound  to  me ; 

And  still  it  half  calls  up  the  realms  of  Fairy, 
Where  I  beheld  what  never  was  to  be  ; 

All  feelings  changed,  but  this  was  last  to  vary, 
A  spell  from  which  even  yet  I  am  not  quite  free : 

But  I  grow  sad — and  let  a  tale  grow  cold, 

Which  must  not  be  pathetically  told. 

v. 
The  wind  swept  down  the  Euxine,  and  the  wave 

Broke  foaming  o'er  the  blue  Symplegades  ; 
'T  is  a  grand  sight  from  off  "  the  Giant's  Grave  "  3 

To  watch  the  progress  of  those  rolling  seas 

Hellespont,  but  the  rim  of  waters  which  encircled  the  disk  of  the 
world.] 

1.  ["The  pleasure  of  going  in  a  barge  to  Chelsea  is  not  comparable 
to  that  of  rowing  upon  the  canal  of  the  sea  here,  where,  for  twenty 
miles  together,  down  the  Bosphorus,  the  most  beautiful  variety  of 
prospects  present  themselves.     The  Asian  side  is  covered  with   fruit 
trees,  villages,  and  the  most  delightful  landscapes  in  nature;  on  the 
European  stands  Constantinople,  situated  on  seven  hills  ;  showing  an 
agreeable  mixture  of  gardens,  pine  and  cypress  trees,  palaces,  mosques, 
and  public  buildings,  raised  one  above  another,  with  as  much  beauty 
and  appearance  of  symmetry  as  your  ladyship  ever  saw  in  a  cabinet 
adorned  by  the  most  skilful  hands,  where  jars  show  themselves  above 
jars,  mixed  with  canisters,  babies,  and  candlesticks.    This  is  a  very  odd 
comparison  ;  but  it  gives  me  an  exact  idea  of  the  thing." — See  letter  to 
Mr.  Pope,  No.  xl.  June  17,  1717,  and  letter  to  the  Countess  of  Bristol, 
No.    xlvi.   n.d. ,   Letters  of  the  Lady  Mary    Wortley  Montagu,  1816, 
pp.  183-219.     See,  too,  letter  to  Mrs.  Byron,  June  28,  1810,  Letters, 
1890,  i.  280,  note  i.] 

2.  [For  Byron's  "  Marys,"  see  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  192,  note  2.] 

3.  The  "Giant's  Grave"  is  a  height   on   the  Asiatic   shore  of  the 
Bosphorus,  much  frequented  by  holiday  parties ;   like   Harrow  and 
Highgate. 

["The  Giant's' Mountain,  650  feet  high,  is  almost  exactly  opposite 
Buyukdereh  ...  It  is  called  by  the  Turks  Yoshadagh,  Mountain  of 
Joshua,  because  the  Giant's  Grave  on  the  top  is,  according  to  the  Moslem 


220  DON    JUAN.  [CANTO  V. 

Between  the  Bosphorus,  as  they  lash  and  lave 
Europe  and  Asia,  you  being  quite  at  ease : 
There  's  not  a  sea  the  passenger  e'er  pukes  in, 
Turns  up  more  dangerous  breakers  than  the  Euxine. 

VI. 

T  was  a  raw  day  of  Autumn's  bleak  beginning, 
When  nights  are  equal,  but  not  so  the  days ; 

The  Parcse  then  cut  short  the  further  spinning 
Of  seamen's  fates,  and  the  loud  tempests  raise  '• 

The  waters,  and  repentance  for  past  sinning 
In  all,  who  o'er  the  great  deep  take  their  ways  : 

They  vow  to  amend  their  lives,  and  yet  they  don't ; 

Because  if  drowned,  they  can't — if  spared,  they  won't. 

VII. 

A  crowd  of  shivering  slaves  of  every  nation, 
And  age,  and  sex,  were  in  the  market  ranged ; 

Each  bevy  with  the  merchant  in  his  station : 

Poor  creatures  !   their  good  looks  were  sadly  changed. 

All  save  the  blacks  seemed  jaded  with  vexation, 

From  friends,  and  home,  and  freedom  far  estranged ; 

The  negroes  more  philosophy  displayed, — 

Used  to  it,  no  doubt,  as  eels  are  to  be  flayed. 

VIII. 

Juan  was  juvenile,  and  thus  was  full, 

As  most  at  his  age  are,  of  hope,  and  health ; 

Yet  I  must  own,  he  looked  a  little  dull, 

And  now  and  then  a  tear  stole  down  by  stealth ; 

Perhaps  his  recent  loss  of  blood  might  pull 
His  spirit  down ;  and  then  the  loss  of  wealth, 

A  mistress,  and  such  comfortable  quarters, 

To  be  put  up  for  auction  amongst  Tartars, 

i.  For  then  the  Parccz  are  most  busy  spinning 

The  fates  of  seamen,  and  the  loud  winds  raise. — [MS.] 

legend,  the  grave  of  Joshua.  The  grave  was  formerly  called  the  Couch 
of  Hercules  ;  but  the  classical  story  is  that  it  was  the  tomb  of  Amycus, 
king  of  the  Bebryces  [on  his  grave  grew  the  laurus  insana,  a  branch  of 
which  caused  strife  (Plin.,  Hist.  Nat.,  lib.  xvi.  cap.  xliv.  ed.  1593,  ii. 
198)].  The  grave  is  20  feet  long,  and  5  feet  broad  ;  it  is  within  a  stone 
enclosure,  and  is  planted  with  flowers  and  bushes." — Handbook  for 
Constantinople,  p.  103.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  221 

IX. 

Were  things  to  shake  a  Stoic ;  ne'ertheless, 
Upon  the  whole  his  carriage  was  serene  : 

His  figure,  and  the  splendour  of  his  dress, 

Of  which  some  gilded  remnants  still  were  seen, 

Drew  all  eyes  on  him,  giving  them  to  guess 
He  was  above  the  vulgar  by  his  mien ; 

And  then,  though  pale,  he  was  so  very  handsome ; 

And  then — they  calculated  on  his  ransom.'' 

x. 

Like  a  backgammon  board  the  place  was  dotted 
With  whites  and  blacks,  in  groups  on  show  for  sale, 

Though  rather  more  irregularly  spotted  -: 

Some  bought  the  jet,  while  others  chose  the  pale. 

It  chanced  amongst  the  other  people  lotted,"- 
A  man  of  thirty,  rather  stout  and  hale, 

With  resolution  in  his  dark  grey  eye, 

Next  Juan  stood,  till  some  might  choose  to  buy. 

XI. 

He  had  an  English  look  ;  that  is,  was  square 
In  make,  of  a  complexion  white  and  ruddy, 

Good  teeth,  with  curling  rather  dark  brown  hair, 
And,  it  might  be  from  thought,  or  toil,  or  study, 

An  open  brow  a  little  marked  with  care  : 
One  arm  had  on  a  bandage  rather  bloody  ; 

And  there  he  stood  with  such  sangfroid,  that  greater 

Could  scarce  be  shown  even  by  a  mere  spectator. 

XII. 

But  seeing  at  his  elbow  a  mere  lad, 

Of  a  high  spirit  evidently,  though 
At  present  weighed  down  by  a  doom  which  had 

O'erthrown  even  men,  he  soon  began  to  show 
A  kind  of  blunt  compassion  for  the  sad 

Lot  of  so  young  a  partner  in  the  woe, 

i.       That  he  a  man  of  rank  and  birth  had  been, 
And  then  they  calculated  on  his  ransom, 
And  last  not  least — he  -was  so  very  handsome. — [AfS,~\ 

ii.  //  chanced  that  near  him,  separately  lotted. 

From  out  the  group  of  slaves  put  up  for  sale, 
A  man  of  middle  age,  and . — [MS.] 


222  DON    JUAN.  [CANTO  V. 

Which  for  himself  he  seemed  to  deem  no  worse 
Than  any  other  scrape,  a  thing  of  course. 

XIII. 

"  My  boy ! " — said  he,  "  amidst  this  motley  crew 
Of  Georgians,  Russians,  Nubians,  and  what  not, 

All  ragamuffins  differing  but  in  hue, 

With  whom  it  is  our  luck  to  cast  our  lot, 

The  only  gentlemen  seem  I  and  you ; 
So  let  us  be  acquainted,  as  we  ought : 

If  I  could  yield  you  any  consolation, 

'T  would  give  me  pleasure. — Pray,  what  is  your  nation  ?  " 

XIV. 

When  Juan  answered — "  Spanish  ! "  he  replied, 
"  I  thought,  in  fact,  you  could  not  be  a  Greek  j 

Those  servile  dogs  are  not  so  proudly  eyed  : 
Fortune  has  played  you  here  a  pretty  freak, 

But  that 's  her  way  with  all  men,  till  they  're  tried ; 
But  never  mind, — she  '11  turn,  perhaps,  next  week  ; 

She  has  served  me  also  much  the  same  as  you, 

Except  that  I  have  found  it  nothing  new." 

xv. 
"  Pray,  sir,"  said  Juan,  "  if  I  may  presume, 

What  brought  you  here  ?  " — "  Oh  !  nothing  very  rare — 
Six  Tartars  and  a  drag-chain " — "  To  this  doom 

But  what  conducted,  if  the  question  's  fair, 
Is  that  which  I  would  learn." — "  I  served  for  some 

Months  with  the  Russian  army  here  and  there ; 
And  taking  lately,  by  Suwarrow's  bidding, 
A  town,  was  ta'en  myself  instead  of  Widdin."  1 

XVI. 

"  Have    you    no    friends  ? " — "  I    had — but,   by   God's 
blessing, 

Have  not  been  troubled  with  them  lately.     Now 
I  have  answered  all  your  questions  without  pressing, 

And  you  an  equal  courtesy  should  show." 

i.  [The  object  of  Suwarof  s  campaign  of  1789  was  the  conquest  of 
Belgrade  and  Servia,  that  of  Wallachia  by  the  Austrians,  etc.  Neither 
of  these  plans  succeeded." — The  Life  of  Field-Marshal  Sowarof,  by 
L.  M.  P.  Tranchant  de  Laverne,  1814,  pp.  105,  106.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON   JUAN.  223 

"  Alas  !  "  said  Juan,  "  't  were  a  tale  distressing, 
And  long  besides." — "  Oh  !  if 't  is  really  so, 
You're  right  on  both  accounts  to  hold  your  tongue  ; 
A  sad  tale  saddens  doubly  when  't  is  long. 

XVII. 

"  But  droop  not :  Fortune  at  your  time  of  life, 

Although  a  female  moderately  fickle, 
Will  hardly  leave  you  (as  she  's  not  your  wife) 

For  any  length  of  days  in  such  a  pickle. 
To  strive,  too,  with  our  fate  were  such  a  strife 

As  if  the  corn-sheaf  should  oppose  the  sickle  : 
Men  are  the  sport  of  circumstances,  when 
The  circumstances  seem  the  sport  of  men." 

XVIII. 

"  'T  is  not,"  said  Juan,  "  for  my  present  doom 
I  mourn,  but  for  the  past ; — I  loved  a  maid  : " — 

He  paused,  and  his  dark  eye  grew  full  of  gloom  ; 
A  single  tear  upon  his  eyelash  staid 

A  moment,  and  then  dropped ;  "  but  to  resume, 
'Tis  not  my  present  lot,  as  I  have  said, 

Which  I  deplore  so  much ;  for  I  have  borne 

Hardships  which  have  the  hardiest  overworn, 

XIX. 

"  On  the  rough  deep.     But  this  last  blow —  "  and  here 
He  stopped  again,  and  turned  away  his  face. 

"  Aye,"  quoth  his  friend,  "  I  thought  it  would  appear 
That  there  had  been  a  lady  in  the  case ; 

And  these  are  things  which  ask  a  tender  tear, 
Such  as  I,  too,  would  shed  if  in  your  place  : 

I  cried  upon  my  first  wife's  dying  day, 

And  also  when  my  second  ran  away  : 

xx. 

"My  third " — "Your  third!"  quoth  Juan,  turning 

round ; 

"  You  scarcely  can  be  thirty  :  have  you  three  ?  " 
"  No — only  two  at  present  above  ground  : 

Surely  't  is  nothing  wonderful  to  see 
One  person  thrice  in  holy  wedlock  bound  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  your  third,"  said  Juan ;  "  what  did  she  ? 


224  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

She  did  not  run  away,  too, — did  she,  sir  ?  " 

"  No,  faith."—"  What  then  ?  "— "  I  ran  away  from  her." 

XXI. 

"  You  take  things  coolly,  sir,"  said  Juan.     "  Why," 
Replied  the  other,  "  what  can  a  man  do  ? 

There  still  are  many  rainbows  in  your  sky, 

But  mine  have  vanished.     All,  when  Life  is  new, 

Commence  with  feelings  warm,  and  prospects  high ; 
But  Time  strips  our  illusions  of  their  hue, 

And  one  by  one  in  turn,  some  grand  mistake 

Casts  off  its  bright  skin  yearly  like  the  snake. 

XXII. 

"  'T  is  true,  it  gets  another  bright  and  fresh, 

Or  fresher,  brighter ;  but  the  year  gone  through, 

This  skin  must  go  the  way,  too,  of  all  flesh, 
Or  sometimes  only  wear  a  week  or  two ; — 

Love  's  the  first  net  which  spreads  its  deadly  mesh ; 
Ambition,  Avarice,  Vengeance,  Glory,  glue 

The  glittering  lime-twigs  of  our  latter  days, 

Where  still  we  flutter  on  for  pence  or  praise." 

XXIII. 

"  All  this  is  very  fine,  and  may  be  true," 

Said  Juan ;  "  but  I  really  don't  see  how 
It  betters  present  times  with  me  or  you." 

" No ? "  quoth  the  other ;  "yet  you  will  allow 
By  setting  things  in  their  right  point  of  view, 

Knowledge,  at  least,  is  gained ;  for  instance,  now, 
We  know  what  slavery  is,  and  our  disasters 
May  teach  us  better  to  behave  when  masters." 

XXIV. 

"  Would  we  were  masters  now,  if  but  to  try 

Their  present  lessons  on  our  Pagan  friends  here," 

Said  Juan, — swallowing  a  heart-burning  sigh : 

"  Heaven  help  the  scholar,  whom  his  fortune   sends 
here ! " 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  be  one  day,  by  and  by," 

Rejoined  the  other,  "  when  our  bad  luck  mends  here ; 

Meantime  (yon  old  black  eunuch  seems  to  eye  us) 

I  wish  to  G — d  that  somebody  would  buy  us. 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  225 

XXV. 

"  But  after  all,  what  is  our  present  state  ? 

'T  is  bad,  and  may  be  better — all  men's  lot : 
Most  men  are  slaves,  none  more  so  than  the  great, 

To  their  own  whims  and  passions,  and  what  not ; 
Society  itself,  which  should  create 

Kindness,  destroys  what  little  we  had  got : 
To  feel  for  none  is  the  true  social  art 
Of  the  world's  Stoics — men  without  a  heart." 

XXVI. 

Just  now  a  black  old  neutral  personage 

Of  the  third  sex  stepped  up,  and  peering  over 

The  captives  seemed  to  mark  their  looks  and  age, 
And  capabilities,  as  to  discover 

If  they  were  fitted  for  the  purposed  cage  : 
No  lady  e'er  is  ogled  by  a  lover, 

Horse  by  a  blackleg,  broadcloth  by  a  tailor, 

Fee  by  a  counsel,  felon  by  a  jailor, 

XXVII. 

As  is  a  slave  by  his  intended  bidder. 

'T  is  pleasant  purchasing  our  fellow-creatures  ; 
And  all  are  to  be  sold,  if  you  consider 

Their  passions,  and  are  dext'rous  ;  some  by  features 
Are  bought  up,  others  by  a  warlike  leader, 

Some  by  a  place — as  tend  their  years  or  natures  : 
The  most  by  ready  cash — but  all  have  prices, 
From  crowns  to  kicks,  according  to  their  vices. 

XXVIII. 

The  eunuch,  having  eyed  them  o'er  with  care, 
Turned  to  the  merchant,  and  began  to  bid 

First  but  for  one,  and  after  for  the  pair ; 

They  haggled,  wrangled,  swore,  too — so  they  did  ! 

As  though  they  were  in  a  mere  Christian  fair, 
Cheapening  an  ox,  an  ass,  a  lamb,  or  kid ; 

So  that  their  bargain  sounded  like  a  battle 

For  this  superior  yoke  of  human  cattle. 

XXIX. 

At  last  they  settled  into  simple  grumbling, 
And  pulling  out  reluctant  purses,  and 

VOL.  VI.  Q 


226  DON   JUAN.  [CANTO  V. 

Turning  each  piece  of  silver  o'er,  and  tumbling 
Some  down,  and  weighing  others  in  their  hand, 

And  by  mistake  sequins l  with  paras  jumbling, 
Until  the  sum  was  accurately  scanned, 

And  then  the  merchant  giving  change,  and  signing 

Receipts  in  full,  began  to  think  of  dining. 

xxx. 

I  wonder  if  his  appetite  was  good  ? 

Or,  if  it  were,  if  also  his  digestion  ? 
Methinks  at  meals  some  odd  thoughts  might  intrude, 

And  Conscience  ask  a  curious  sort  of  question, 
About  the  right  divine  how  far  we  should 

Sell  flesh  and  blood.   When  dinner  has  oppressed  one, 
I  think  it  is  perhaps  the  gloomiest  hour 
Which  turns  up  out  of  the  sad  twenty-four. 

XXXI. 

Voltaire  says  "  No  :  "  he  tells  you  that  Candide 

Found  life  most  tolerable  after  meals ; 2 
He  's  wrong — unless  man  were  a  pig,  indeed, 

Repletion  rather  adds  to  what  he  feels, 
Unless  he  's  drunk,  and  then  no  doubt  he  's  freed 

From  his  own  brain's  oppression  while  it  reels. 
Of  food  I  think  with  Philip's  son  3  or  rather 
Ammon's  (ill  pleased  with  one  world  and  one  father) ; ' 

i.  But  for  mere  food,  I  think  with  Philip's  son, 

Or  Ammon's— for  two  fathers  claimed  this  one. — [A/5.] 

1.  [The  Turkish  zecchino  is  a  gold  coin,  worth  about  seven  shillings 
and  sixpence.     The  para  is  not  quite  equal  to  an  English  halfpenny.] 

2.  [Candide's  increased  satisfaction  with  life  is  implied  in  the  narra- 
tive.    For  example,  in  chap,  xviii.,  where  Candide  visits  Eldorado  : — 
"Never  was  there  a  better  entertainment,  and  never  was  more  wit 
shown  at  table  than  that  which  fell  from  His  Majesty.     Cacambo  ex- 
plained the  king's  bans  mots  to  Candide,  and  notwithstanding  they  were 
translated,  they  still  appeared  bans  mots."   This  was  after  supper.    See, 
too,  Part  II.  chap,  ii.] 

3.  See  Plutarch  in  Alex.,  Q.  Curt.  Hist,  Alexand.,  and  Sir  Richard 
Clayton's  "Critical  Inquiry  into  the  Life  of  Alexander  the  Great,"  1763 
[from  the  Examen  Critique,  etc.,  of  Guilhem  de  Clermont-Lodeve, 
Baron  de  Sainte  Croix,  1775.] 

["He  used  to  say  that  sleep  and  the  commerce  with  the  sex  were 
the  things  that  made  him  most  sensible  of  his  mortality,  .  .  .  He  was 
also  very  temperate  in  eating." — Plutarch's  Alexander,  Langhorne, 
1838,  p.  473.] 


CANTO  V.] 


DON    JUAN. 


227 


XXXII. 

I  think  with  Alexander,  that  the  act 

Of  eating,  with  another  act  or  two, 
Makes  us  feel  our  mortality  in  fact 

Redoubled ;  when  a  roast  and  a  ragout, 
And  fish,  and  soup,  by  some  side  dishes  backed, 

Can  give  us  either  pain  or  pleasure,  who 
Would  pique  himself  on  intellects,  whose  use 
Depends  so  much  upon  the  gastric  juice  ? 

XXXIII. 

The  other  evening  ('t  was  on  Friday  last) — 
This  is  a  fact,  and  no  poetic  fable — 

Just  as  my  great  coat  was  about  me  cast, 
My  hat  and  gloves  still  lying  on  the  table, 

I  heard  a  shot — 't  was  eight  o'clock  scarce  past — 
And,  running  out  as  fast  as  I  was  able,1 

i.  The  assassination  alluded  to  took  place  on  the  8th  of  December, 
1820,  in  the  streets  of  Ravenna,  not  a  hundred  paces  from  the  residence 
of  the  writer.  The  circumstances  were  as  described. 

["December  9,  1820.  I  open  my  letter  to  tell  you  a  fact,  which  will 
show  the  state  of  this  country  better  than  I  can.  The  commandant  of 
the  troops  is  now  lying  dead  in  my  house.  He  was  shot  at  a  little  past 
eight  o'clock,  about  two  hundred  paces  from  my  door.  I  was  putting 
on  my  great  coat  to  visit  Madame  la  Comtessa  G. ,  when  I  heard  the 
shot.  On  coming  into  the  hall,  I  found  all  my  servants  on  the  balcony, 
exclaiming  that  a  man  was  murdered.  I  immediately  ran  down,  calling 
on  Tita  (the  bravest  of  them)  to  follow  me.  The  rest  wanted  to  hinder 
us  from  going,  as  it  is  the  custom  for  everybody  here,  it  seems,  to  run 
away  from  'the  stricken  deer.'  ...  we  found  him  lying  on  his  back, 
almost,  if  not  quite,  dead,  with  five  wounds ;  one  in  the  heart,  two  in  the 
stomach,  one  in  the  finger,  and  the  other  in  the  arm.  Some  soldiers 
cocked  their  guns,  and  wanted  to  hinder  me  from  passing.  However, 
we  passed,  and  I  found  Diego,  the  adjutant,  crying  over  him  like  a 
child — a  surgeon,  who  said  nothing  of  his  profession — a  priest,  sobbing 
a  frightened  prayer — and  the  commandant,  all  this  time,  on  his  back, 
on  the  hard,  cold  pavement,  without  light  or  assistance,  or  anything 
around  him  but  confusion  and  dismay.  As  nobody  could,  or  would, 
do  anything  but  howl  and  pray,  and  as  no  one  would  stir  a  finger  to 
move  him,  for  fear  of  consequences,  I  lost  my  patience — made  my 
servant  and  a  couple  of  the  mob  take  up  the  body — sent  off  two  soldiers 
to  the  guard — despatched  Diego  to  the  Cardinal  with  the  news,  and 
had  him  carried  upstairs  into  my  own  quarters.  But  it  was  too  late — 
he  was  gone.  ...  I  had  him  partly  stripped — made  the  surgeon  examine 
him,  and  examined  him  myself.  He  had  been  shot  by  cut  balls  or 
slugs.  I  fell  one  of  the  slugs,  which  had  gone  through  him,  aM  but  the 
skin.  ...  He  only  said,  '  O  Dio ! '  and  '  Gesu  ! '  two  or  three  times,  and 
appeared  to  have  suffered  little.  Poor  fellow  !  he  was  a  brave  officer  ; 
but  had  made  himself  much  disliked  by  the  people.  "—Letter  to  Moore, 


228 


DON   JUAN. 


[CANTO  v. 


I  found  the  military  commandant 

Stretched  in  the  street,  and  able  scarce  to  pant. 

xxxiv. 
Poor  fellow !  for  some  reason,  surely  bad, 

They  had  slain  him  with  five  slugs ;  and  left  him  there 
To  perish  on  the  pavement :  so  I  had 

Him  borne  into  the  house  and  up  the  stair, 
And  stripped,  and  looked  to,' But  why  should  I  add 

More  circumstances  ?  vain  was  every  care ; 
The  man  was  gone — in  some  Italian  quarrel 
Killed  by  five  bullets  from  an  old  gun-barrel. 

xxxv. 
I  gazed  upon  him,  for  I  knew  him  well ; 

And  though  I  have  seen  many  corpses,  never 
Saw  one,  whom  such  an  accident  befell, 

So  calm ;  though  pierced  through  stomach,  heart,  and 

liver, 
He  seemed  to  sleep, — for  you  could  scarcely  tell 

(As  he  bled  inwardly,  no  hideous  river 
Of  gore  divulged  the  cause)  that  he  was  dead : 
So  as  I  gazed  on  him,  I  thought  or  said — 

xxxvi. 
"  Can  this  be  Death  ?  then  what  is  Life  or  Death  ? 

Speak  ! "   but  he  spoke  not :   "  wake  ! "   but  still  he 

slept : — 
"  But  yesterday  and  who  had  mightier  breath  ? 

A  thousand  warriors  by  his  word  were  kept 
In  awe :  he  said,  as  the  Centurion  saith, 

*  Go,'  and  he  goeth  ;  '  come,'  and  forth  he  stepped. 
The  trump  and  bugle  till  he  spake  were  dumb — 
And  now  nought  left  him  but  the  muffled  drum."  "• 

i.  so  I  had 

Him  borne,  as  soon  's  1  could,  up  several  pair 

Of  stairs — and  looked  to, But  -why  should  1  add 

More  circumstances  ? . — [MS.] 

ii.  And  now  as  silent  as  an  unstrung  drum. — [MS,] 

December  9,  1820,  Letters,  1901,  v.  133.     The  commandant's  name 
was  Del  Pinto  (Life,  p.  472).] 


CANTO  V.]  DON  JUAN.  229 

XXXVII. 

And  they  who  waited  once  and  worshipped — they 
With  their  rough  faces  thronged  about  the  bed 

To  gaze  once  more  on  the  commanding  clay 

Which  for  the  last,  though  not  the  first,  time  bled ; 

And  such  an  end  !  that  he  who  many  a  day 
Had  faced  Napoleon's  foes  until  they  fled, — 

The  foremost  in  the  charge  or  in  the  sally. 

Should  now  be  butchered  in  a  civic  alley. 

xxxvin. 
The  scars  of  his  old  wounds  were  near  his  new, 

Those  honourable  scars  which  brought  him  fame ; 
And  horrid  was  the  contrast  to  the  view 

But  let  me  quit  the  theme ;  as  such  things  claim 
Perhaps  even  more  attention  than  is  due 

From  me :  I  gazed  (as  oft  I  have  gazed  the  same) 
To  try  if  I  could  wrench  aught  out  of  Death 
Which  should  confirm,  or  shake,  or  make  a  faith ; 

XXXIX. 

But  it  was  all  a  mystery.     Here  we  are, 

And  there  we  go  : — but  where  ?  five  bits  of  lead, 

Or  three,  or  two,  or  one,  send  very  far  ! 

And  is  this  blood,  then,  formed  but  to  be  shed  ? 

Can  every  element  our  elements  mar? 

And  Air — Earth — Water — Fire  live — and  we  dead  ? 

We,  whose  minds  comprehend  all  things  ?     No  more ; 

But  let  us  to  the  story  as  before. 

XL. 
The  purchaser  of  Juan  and  acquaintance 

Bore  off  his  bargains  to  a  gilded  boat, 
Embarked  himself  and  them,  and  off  they  went  thence 

As  fast  as  oars  could  pull  and  water  float ; 
They  looked  like  persons  being  led  to  sentence, 

Wondering  what  next,  till  the  cai'que  1  was  brought 
Up  in  a  little  creek  below  a  wall 
O'ertopped  with  cypresses,  dark-green  and  tall. 

i.  The  light  and  elegant  wherries  plying  about  the  quays  of  Con- 
stantinople are  so  called. 


230  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

XLI. 
Here  their  conductor  tapping  at  the  wicket 

Of  a  small  iron  door,  't  was  opened,  and 
He  led  them  onward,  first  through  a  low  thicket 

Flanked  by  large  groves,  which  towered  on  either 

hand: 
They  almost  lost  their  way,  and  had  to  pick  it — 

For  night  was  closing  ere  they  came  to  land. 
The  eunuch  made  a  sign  to  those  on  board, 
Who  rowed  off,  leaving  them  without  a  word. 

XLII. 
As  they  were  plodding  on  their  winding  way 

Through  orange  bowers,  and  jasmine,  and  so  forth  : 
(Of  which  I  might  have  a  good  deal  to  say, 

There  being  no  such  profusion  in  the  North 
Of  oriental  plants,  et  cetera, 

But  that  of  late  your  scribblers  think  it  worth 
Their  while  to  rear  whole  hotbeds  in  their  works, 
Because  one  poet  travelled  'mongst  the  Turks  :) l 

XLIII. 
As  they  were  threading  on  their  way,  there  came 

Into  Don  Juan's  head  a  thought,  which  he 
Whispered  to  his  companion  : — 't  was  the  same 

Which  might  have  then  occurred  to  you  or  me. 
"  Methinks," — said  he, — "  it  would  be  no  great  shame 

If  we  should  strike  a  stroke  to  set  us  free  ; 
Let 's  knock  that  old  black  fellow  on  the  head, 
And  march  away — 't  were  easier  done  than  said." 

XLIV. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  "  and  when  done,  what  then  ? 

How  get  out  ?  how  the  devil  got  we  in  ? 
And  when  we  once  were  fairly  out,  and  when 

From  Saint  Bartholomew  we  have  saved  our  skin,2  '• 

i.   We  from  impalement . — [MS.] 

1.  \Jlderim,  a  Syrian  Tale,  by  Henry  Gaily  Knight,  was  published 
in  1816  ;  Phrosyne,  a  Grecian  Tale,  and  Alashtar,  an  Arabian  Tale,  in 
1817.     Moore's  Lalla  Rookh  also  appeared  in  1817.] 

2.  [St.  Bartholomew  was  "discoriate,  and  flayed  quick"   (Golden 
Legend,  1900,  v.  43).] 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  331 

To-morrow  'd  see  us  in  some  other  den, 

And  worse  off  than  we  hitherto  have  been ; 
Besides,  I  'm  hungry,  and  just  now  would  take, 
Like  Esau,  for  my  birthright  a  beef-steak. 

XLV. 
"  We  must  be  near  some  place  of  man's  abode ; — 

For  the  old  negro's  confidence  in  creeping, 
With  his  two  captives,  by  so  queer  a  road, 

Shows  that  he  thinks  his  friends  have  not  been  sleeping ; 
A  single  cry  would  bring  them  all  abroad  : 

'T  is  better  therefore  looking  before  leaping — 
And  there,  you  see,  this  turn  has  brought  us  through, 
By  Jove,  a  noble  palace  ! — lighted  too." 

XLVI. 
It  was  indeed  a  wide  extensive  building 

Which  opened  on  their  view,  and  o'er  the  front 
There  seemed  to  be  besprent  a  deal  of  gilding 

And  various  hues,  as  is  the  Turkish  wont, — 
A  gaudy  taste ;  for  they  are  little  skilled  in 

The  arts  of  which  these  lands  were  once  the  font : 
Each  villa  on  the  Bosphorus  looks  a  screen 
New  painted,  or  a  pretty  opera-scene.1 

XLVI  I. 

And  nearer  as  they  came,  a  genial  savour 
Of  certain  stews,  and  roast-meats,  and  pilaus, 

Things  which  in  hungry  mortals'  eyes  find  favour, 
Made  Juan  in  his  harsh  intentions  pause, 

And  put  himself  upon  his  good  behaviour  : 
His  friend,  too,  adding  a  new  saving  clause, 

Said,  "  In  Heaven's  name  let 's  get  some  supper  now, 

And  then  I  'm  with  you,  if  you  're  for  a  row." 

XLVIII. 

Some  talk  of  an  appeal  unto  some  passion, 
Some  to  men's  feelings,  others  to  their  reason  ; 

i.  ["  Many  of  the  serai'  and  summer-houses  [on  the  Bosphorus]  have 
received  these  significant,  or  rather  fantastic  names :  one  is  the  Pearl 
Pavilion  ;  another  is  the  Star  Palace  ;  a  third  the  Mansion  of  Looking- 
glasses." —  Travels  in  Albania,  1858,  ii.  243.] 


232  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

The  last  of  these  was  never  much  the  fashion, 
For  Reason  thinks  all  reasoning  out  of  season : 

Some  speakers  whine,  and  others  lay  the  lash  on, 
But  more  or  less  continue  still  to  tease  on, 

With  arguments  according  to  their  "  forte  :  " 

But  no  one  ever  dreams  of  being  short. — 

XLIX. 
But  I  digress  :  of  all  appeals, — although 

I  grant  the  power  of  pathos,  and  of  gold, 
Of  beauty,  flattery,  threats,  a  shilling, — no 

Method  's  more  sure  at  moments  to  take  hold  '• 
Of  the  best  feelings  of  mankind,  which  grow 

More  tender,  as  we  every  day  behold, 
Than  that  all-softening,  overpowering  knell, 
The  Tocsin  of  the  Soul — the  dinner-bell. 

L. 
Turkey  contains  no  bells,  and  yet  men  dine  \ 

And  Juan  and  his  friend,  albeit  they  heard 
No  Christian  knoll  to  table,  saw  no  line 

Of  lackeys  usher  to  the  feast  prepared, 
Yet  smelt  roast-meat,  beheld  a  huge  fire  shine, 

And  cooks  in  motion  with  their  clean  arms  bared, 
And  gazed  around  them  to  the  left  and  right, 
With  the  prophetic  eye  of  appetite. 

LI. 
And  giving  up  all  notions  of  resistance, 

They  followed  close  behind  their  sable  guide, 
Who  little  thought  that  his  own  cracked  existence 

Was  on  the  point  of  being  set  aside  : 
He  motioned  them  to  stop  at  some  small  distance, 

And  knocking  at  the  gate,  't  was  opened  wide, 
And  a  magnificent  large  hall  displayed 
The  Asian  pomp  of  Ottoman  parade. 

LII. 

I  won't  describe ;  description  is  my  "  forte," 
But  every  fool  describes  in  these  bright  days 

i.   Of  speeches,  beauty ,  flattery — there  is  no 
Method,  more  sure  ——. — [MS.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON   JUAN.  233 

His  wondrous  journey  to  some  foreign  court, 
And  spawns  his  quarto,  and  demands  your  praise — 

Death  to  his  publisher,  to  him  't  is  sport ;. 
While  Nature,  tortured  twenty  thousand  ways, 

Resigns  herself  with  exemplary  patience 

To  guide-books,  rhymes,  tours,  sketches,  illustrations.1 

LIII. 
Along  this  hall,  and  up  and  down,  some,  squatted 

Upon  their  hams,  were  occupied  at  chess ; 
Others  in  monosyllable  talk  chatted, 

And  some  seemed  much  in  love  with  their  own  dress'; 
And  divers  smoked  superb  pipes  decorated 

With  amber  mouths  of  greater  price  or  less ; 
And  several  strutted,  others  slept,  and  some 
Prepared  for  supper  with  a  glass  of  rum.2 

LIV. 

As  the  black  eunuch  entered  with  his  brace 
Of  purchased  Infidels,  some  raised  their  eyes 

A  moment,  without  slackening  from  their  pace ; 
But  those  who  sate  ne'er  stirred  in  any  wise : 

One  or  two  stared  the  captives  in  the  face, 
Just  as  one  views  a  horse  to  guess  his  price ; 

Some  nodded  to  the  negro  from  their  station, 

But  no  one  troubled  him  with  conversation.3 

1.  [Guide  des  Voyageurs ;  Directions  for  Travellers,  etc. — Rhymes, 
Incidental   and   Humorous;    Rhyming  Reminiscences;   Effusions   in 
Rhyme,  etc. — Lady  Morgan's  Tour  in  Italy ;  Tour  through  Istria,  etc., 
etc. — Sketches  of  Italy  ;  Sketches  of  Modern  Greece,  etc.,  etc. — Historical 
Illustrations  of  the  Fourth  Canto  of  Childe  Harold,  by  J.  C.  Hobhouse, 
1818.] 

2.  In  Turkey  nothing  is  more  common  than  for  the  Mussulmans  to 
take  several  glasses  of  strong  spirits  by  way  of  appetiser.     I  have  seen 
them  take  as  many  as  six  of  raki  before  dinner,  and  swear  that  they 
dined  the  better  for  it :  I  tried  the  experiment,  but  fared  like  the  Scotch- 
man, who  having  heard  that  the  birds  called  kittiwakes  were  admirable 
whets,  ate  six  of  them,  and  complained  that  "he  was  no  hungrier  than 
when  he  began." 

3.  ["  Everything  is  so  still  [in  the  court  of  the  Seraglio],  that  the 
motion  of  a  fly  might  be  heard,  in  a  manner ;  and  if  any  one  should 
presume  to  raise  his  voice  ever  so  little,  or  show  the  least  want  of 
respect  to  the  Mansion-place  of  their  Emperor,  he  would  instantly  have 
the  bastinado  by  the  officers  that  go  the  rounds." — A   Voyage  in  the 
Levant,  by  M.  Tournefort,  1741,  ii.  183.] 


234  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

LV. 
He  leads  them  through  the  hall,  and,  without  stopping, 

On  through  a  farther  range  of  goodly  rooms, 
Splendid,  but  silent,  save  in  one,  where  dropping x 

A  marble  fountain  echoes  through  the  glooms 
Of  night  which  robe  the  chamber,  or  where  popping 

Some  female  head  most  curiously  presumes 
To  thrust  its  black  eyes  through  the  door  or  lattice, 
As  wondering  what  the  devil  noise  that  is  ! 

LVI. 
Some  faint  lamps  gleaming  from  the  lofty  walls 

Gave  light  enough  to  hint  their  farther  way, 
But  not  enough  to  show  the  imperial  halls 

In  all  the  flashing  of  their  full  array ; 
Perhaps  there  's  nothing — I  '11  not  say  appals, 

But  saddens  more  by  night  as  well  as  day, 
Than  an  enormous  room  without  a  soul 2 
To  break  the  lifeless  splendour  of  the  whole. 

LVII. 
Two  or  three  seem  so  little,  one  seems  nothing  : 

In  deserts,  forests,  crowds,  or  by  the  shore, 
There  Solitude,  we  know,  has  her  full  growth  in 

The  spots  which  were  her  realms  for  evermore  ; 
But  in  a  mighty  hall  or  gallery,  both  in 

More  modern  buildings  and  those  built  of  yore, 
A  kind  of  Death  comes  o'er  us  all  alone, 
Seeing  what 's  meant  for  many  with  but  one. 

1,  A  common  furniture.     I  recollect  being  received  by  All  Pacha,  in 
a  large  room,  paved  with  marble,  containing  a  marble  basin,   and 
fountain  playing  in  the  centre,  etc. ,  etc. 

[Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  II.  stanza  Ixii. — 

"  In  marble-paved  pavilion,  where  a  spring 
Of  living  water  from  the  centre  rose, 
Whose  bubbling  did  a  genial  freshness  fling, 
And  soft  voluptuous  couches  breathed  repose, 
Ali  reclined,  a  man  of  war  and  woes,"  etc.] 

2.  [A  reminiscence  of  Newstead.     Compare  Moore's  song,  ' '  Oft  in 
the  Stilly  Night "— 

"I  feel  like  one 

Who  treads  alone 
Some  banquet-hall  deserted." 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  235 

LVIII. 

A  neat,  snug  study  on  a  winter's  night,'' 

A  book,  friend,  single  lady,  or  a  glass 
Of  claret,  sandwich,  and  an  appetite, 

Are  things  which  make  an  English  evening  pass — 
Though  certes  by  no  means  so  grand  a  sight 

As  is  a  theatre  lit  up  by  gas — 
/  pass  my  evenings  in  long  galleries  solely,"- l 
And  that 's  the  reason  I  'm  so  melancholy. 

LIX. 

Alas  !  Man  makes  that  great  which  makes  him  little — 
I  grant  you  in  a  church  't  is  very  well : 

What  speaks  of  Heaven  should  by  no  means  be  brittle, 
But  strong  and  lasting,  till  no  tongue  can  tell 

Their  names  who  reared  it ;  but  huge  houses  fit  ill, 
And  huge  tombs,  worse,  Mankind — since  Adam  fell : 

Methinks  the  story  of  the  tower  of  Babel 

Might  teach  them  this  much  better  than  I  'm  able. 

LX. 

Babel  was  Nimrod's  hunting-box,  and  then 
A  town  of  gardens,  walls,  and  wealth  amazing. 

Where  Nabuchadonosor,2  King  of  men, 

Reigned,  till  one  summer's  day  he  took  to  grazing, 

And  Daniel  tamed  the  lions  in  their  den, 
The  people's  awe  and  admiration  raising  • 

'T  was  famous,  too,  for  Thisbe  and  for  Pyramus,3 

And  the  calumniated  queen  Semiramis — 

i.  A  small,  snug  c/iamber  on  a  winter's  night, 

Well  furnished  with  a  book,  friend,  girl,  or  glass,  etc. — [MS.] 
ii.  I  pass  my  days  in  long  dull  galleries  solely. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [When  this  stanza  was  written  Byron  was  domiciled  in  the  Palazzo 
Guiccioli  (in  the  Via  di  Porta  Adriana)  at  Ravenna  ;  but  he  may  have 
had  in  his  mind  the  monks'  refectory  at  Newstead  Abbey,  ' '  the  dark 
gallery,  where  his  fathers  frowned"  (Lara,  Canto  I.  line  137),  or  the 
corridors  which  form  the  upper  story  of  the  cloisters.] 

2.  ["  Nabuchtfdonosor, "  here  used  metri  gratia,  is  Latin  (see  the 
Vulgate)  and  French  (see  J.  P.  De  Bdranger,  Chansons  Inddites,  1828, 
p.  48)  for  Nebuchadnezzar.] 

3.  [See  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  lib.  iv.  lines  55-58 — 

"  In  Babylon,  where  first  her  queen,  for  state, 
Raised  walls  of  brick  magnificently  great, 


236  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

LXI. 

That  injured  Queen,  by  chroniclers l  so  coarse, 
Has  been  accused  (I  doubt  not  by  conspiracy) 

Of  an  improper  friendship  for  her  horse 

(Love,  like  Religion,  sometimes  runs  to  heresy) : 

This  monstrous  tale  had  probably  its  source 
(For  such  exaggerations  here  and  there  I  see) 

In  writing  "  Courser  "  by  mistake  for  "  Courier  : " l 

I  wish  the  case  could  come  before  a  jury  here.2 

LXII. 
But  to  resume, — should  there  be  (what  may  not 

Be  in  these  days  ?)  some  infidels,  who  don't, 
Because  they  can't  find  out  the  very  spot 

Of  that  same  Babel,  or  because  they  won't 
(Though  Claudius  Rich,  Esquire,  some  bricks  has  got, 

And  written  lately  two  memoirs  upon  't),3 
Believe  the  Jews,  those  unbelievers,  who 
Must  be  believed,  though  they  believe  not  you  : 

LXIII. 
Yet  let  them  think  that  Horace  has  expressed 

Shortly  and  sweetly  the  masonic  folly 
Of  those,  forgetting  the  great  place  of  rest, 

Who  give  themselves  to  Architecture  wholly ; 
We  know  where  things  and  men  must  end  at  best : 

A  moral  (like  all  morals)  melancholy, 

i.  In  an  Erratum  of  her  Horse  for  Courier. — [MS.~\ 

Lived  Pyramus  and  Thisbe,  lovely  pair  ! 
He  found  no  Eastern  youth  his  equal  there, 
And  she  beyond  the  fairest  nymph  was  fair." 

Garth.] 

1.  Babylon  was  enlarged  by  Ninirod,  strengthened  and  beautified  by 
Nabuchadonosor,  and  rebuilt  by  Semiramis. 

[Pliny  (Nat.  Hist.,  lib.  viii.  cap.  xlii.  ed.   1593,  i.  392)  cites  Juba, 
King  of  Mauretania,  died  A.D.  19,  as  his  authority  for  the  calumny.] 

2.  [Queen  Caroline — whose  trial  (August — November,  1820)  was  pro- 
ceeding whilst  this  canto  was  being  written — was  charged  with  having 
committed  adultery  with  Bartolommeo  Bergami,  who  had  been  her 
courier,  and  was,  afterwards,  her  chamberlain.] 

3.  ["Memoir  on  the  Ruins  of  Babylon,  by  Claudius  James  Rich,  Esq., 
Resident  for  the  Honourable  East  India  Company  at  the  Court  of  the 
Pasha  of  Bagdad,  1815,"  pp.  61-64  :  Second  Memoir  on  Babylon,  .  .  . 
1818,  by  Claudius  James  Rich.    See  the  plates  at  the  end  of  the  volume.  ] 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  237 

And  "  Et  sepulchri  immemor  struis  domos  " 

Shows  that  we  build  when  we  should  but  entomb  us. 

LXIV. 
At  last  they  reached  a  quarter  most  retired, 

Where  Echo  woke  as  if  from  a  long  slumber ; 
Though  full  of  all  things  which  could  be  desired, 

One  wondered  what  to  do  with  such  a  number 
Of  articles  which  nobody  required ; 

Here  Wealth  had  done  its  utmost  to  encumber 
With  furniture  an  exquisite  apartment, 
Which  puzzled  Nature  much  to  know  what  Art  meant. 

LXV. 
It  seemed,  however,  but  to  open  on 

A  range  or  suite  of  further  chambers,  which 
Might  lead  to  Heaven  knows  where ;  but  in  this  one 

The  moveables  were  prodigally  rich : 
Sofas  't  was  half  a  sin  to  sit  upon, 

So  costly  were  they ;  carpets  every  stitch 
Of  workmanship  so  rare,  they  made  you  wish 
You  could  glide  o'er  them  like  a  golden  fish. 

LXVI. 
The  black,  however,  without  hardly  deigning 

A  glance  at  that  which  wrapped  the  slaves  in  wonder, 
Trampled  what  they  scarce  trod  for  fear  of  staining, 

As  if  the  milky  way  their  feet  was  under 
With  all  its  stars ;  and  with  a  stretch  attaining 

A  certain  press  or  cupboard  niched  in  yonder, 
In  that  remote  recess  which  you  may  see — 
Or  if  you  don't  the  fault  is  not  in  me, — 

LXVII. 
I  wish  to  be  perspicuous — and  the  black, 

I  say,  unlocking  the  recess,  pulled  forth 
A  quantity  of  clothes  fit  for  the  back 

Of  any  Mussulman,  whate'er  his  worth ; 
And  of  variety  there  was  no  lack — 

And  yet,  though  I  have  said  there  was  no  dearth, — < 
He  chose  himself  to  point  out  what  he  thought 
Most  proper  for  the  Christians  he  had  bought. 


238  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

LXVIII. 

The  suit  he  thought  most  suitable  to  each 
Was,  for  the  elder  and  the  stouter,  first 

A  Candiote  cloak,  which  to  the  knee  might  reach, 
And  trousers  not  so  tight  that  they  would  burst, 

But  such  as  fit  an  Asiatic  breech ; 

A  shawl,  whose  folds  in  Cashmire  had  been  nursed, 

Slippers  of  saffron,  dagger  rich  and  handy ; 

In  short,  all  things  which  form  a  Turkish  Dandy. 

LXIX. 
While  he  was  dressing,  Baba,  their  black  friend, 

Hinted  the  vast  advantages  which  they 
Might  probably  attain  both  in  the  end, 

If  they  would  but  pursue  the  proper  way 
Which  Fortune  plainly  seemed  to  recommend ; 

And  then  he  added,  that  he  needs  must  say, 
"  'T  would  greatly  tend  to  better  their  condition, 
If  they  would  condescend  to  circumcision. 

LXX. 

"  For  his  own  part,  he  really  should  rejoice 
To  see  them  true  believers,  but  no  less 

Would  leave  his  proposition  to  their  choice." 
The  other,  thanking  him  for  this  excess 

Of  goodness,  in  thus  leaving  them  a  voice 
In  such  a  trifle,  scarcely  could  express 

"  Sufficiently  "  (he  said)  "  his  approbation 

Of  all  the  customs  of  this  polished  nation. 

LXXI. 

"  For  his  own  share — he  saw  but  small  objection 

To  so  respectable  an  ancient  rite ; 
And,  after  swallowing  down  a  slight  refection, 

For  which  he  owned  a  present  appetite, 
He  doubted  not  a  few  hours  of  reflection 

Would  reconcile  him  to  the  business  quite." 
"  Will  it  ?  "  said  Juan,  sharply  :  "  Strike  me  dead, 
But  they  as  soon  shall  circumcise  my  head  !  '• 

i.  If  they  shall  not  as  soon  cut  off  my  head. — [MS.} 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  239 

LXXII. 

"  Cut  off  a  thousand  heads,  before " — "  Now,  pray," 

Replied  the  other,  "  do  not  interrupt : 
You  put  me  out  in  what  I  had  to  say. 

Sir ! — as  I  said,  as  soon  as  I  have  supped, 
I  shall  perpend  if  your  proposal  may 

Be  such  as  I  can  properly  accept ; 
Provided  always  your  great  goodness  still 
Remits  the  matter  to  our  own  free-will." 

LXXIII. 
Baba  eyed  Juan,  and  said,  "  Be  so  good 

As  dress  yourself —  "  and  pointed  out  a  suit 
In  which  a  Princess  with  great  pleasure  would 

Array  her  limbs ;  but  Juan  standing  mute, 
As  not  being  in  a  masquerading  mood, 

Gave  it  a  slight  kick  with  his  Christian  foot ; 
And  when  the  old  negro  told  him  to  "  Get  ready," 
Replied,  "  Old  gentleman,  I  'm  not  a  lady." 

LXXIV. 
"  What  you  may  be,  I  neither  know  nor  care," 

Said  Baba ;  "  but  pray  do  as  I  desire  : 
I  have  no  more  time  nor  many  words  to  spare." 

"  At  least,"  said  Juan,  "  sure  I  may  inquire 
The  cause  of  this  odd  travesty  ?  " — "  Forbear," 

Said  Baba,  "  to  be  curious  ;  't  will  transpire, 
No  doubt,  in  proper  place,  and  time,  and  season : 
I  have  no  authority  to  tell  the  reason." 

LXXV. 
"  Then  if  I  do,"  said  Juan,  "  I  '11  be "— "  Hold  !  " 

Rejoined  the  negro,  "  pray  be  not  provoking ; 
This  spirit 's  well,  but  it  may  wax  too  bold, 

And  you  will  find  us  not  too  fond  of  joking." 
"  What,  sir ! "  said  Juan,  "  shall  it  e'er  be  told 

That  I  unsexed  my  dress  ?  "     But  Baba,  stroking 
The  things  down,  said,  "  Incense  me,  and  I  call 
Those  who  will  leave  you  of  no  sex  at  all. 

LXXVI. 

"  I  offer  you  a  handsome  suit  of  clothes  : 
A  woman's,  true ;  but  then  there  is  a  cause 


240  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

Why  you  should  wear  them." — "  What,  though  my  soul 
loathes 

The  effeminate  garb  ?  " — thus,  after  a  short  pause, 
Sighed  Juan,  muttering  also  some  slight  oaths, 

"  What  the  devil  shall  I  do  with  all  this  gauze  ?  " 
Thus  he  profanely  termed  the  finest  lace 
Which  e'er  set  off  a  marriage-morning  face. 

LXXVII. 

And  then  he  swore ;  and,  sighing,  on  he  slipped 
A  pair  of  trousers  of  flesh-coloured  silk ;  '• 

Next  with  a  virgin  zone  he  was  equipped, 
Which  girt  a  slight  chemise  as  white  as  milk ; 

But  tugging  on  his  petticoat,  he  tripped, 

Which — as  we  say — or  as  the  Scotch  say,  whilk^ 

(The  rhyme  obliges  me  to  this ;  sometimes 

Monarchs  are  less  imperative  than  rhymes) — "• 

LXXVIII. 
Whilk,  which  (or  what  you  please),  was  owing  to 

His  garment's  novelty,  and  his  being  awkward : 
And  yet  at  last  he  managed  to  get  through 

His  toilet,  though  no  doubt  a  little  backward : 
The  negro  Baba  helped  a  little  too, 

When  some  untoward  part  of  raiment  stuck  hard  : 
And,  wrestling  both  his  arms  into  a  gown, 
He  paused,  and  took  a  survey  up  and  down. 

LXXIX. 

One  difficulty  still  remained — his  hair 

Was  hardly  long  enough ;  but  Baba  found 

So  many  false  long  tresses  all  to  spare, 

That  soon  his  head  was  most  completely  crowned, 

After  the  manner  then  in  fashion  there ; 

And  this  addition  with  such  gems  was  bound 

As  suited  the  ensemble  of  his  toilet, 

While  Baba  made  him  comb  his  head  and  oil  it. 

i.  A  pair  of  drawers . — [MS.] 

ii.  Kings  are  not  more  imperative  than  rhymes. — [MS.] 

i.  [Compare   "Extracts  from  a  Diary,"  January  24,  1821,  Letters, 
1901,  v.  184.] 


CANTO  V.] 


DON  JUAN. 


241 


LXXX. 

And  now  being  femininely  all  arrayed, 

With  some  small  aid  from  scissors,  paint,  and  tweezers, 
He  looked  in  almost  all  respects  a  maid,1- 

And  Baba  smilingly  exclaimed,  "  You  see,  sirs, 
A  perfect  transformation  here  displayed ; 

And  now,  then,  you  must  come  along  with  me,  sirs, 
That  is — the  Lady : "  clapping  his  hands  twice, 
Four  blacks  were  at  his  elbow  in  a  trice. 

LXXXI. 
"  You,  sir,"  said  Baba,  nodding  to  the  one, 

"  Will  please  to  accompany  those  gentlemen 
To  supper ;  but  you,  worthy  Christian  nun, 

Will  follow  me  :  no  trifling,  sir ;  for  when 
I  say  a  thing,  it  must  at  once  be  done. 

What  fear  you  ?  think  you  this  a  lion's  den  ? 
Why,  't  is  a  palace ;  where  the  truly  wise 
Anticipate  the  Prophet's  paradise. 

LXXXII. 

"  You  fool !  I  tell  you  no  one  means  you  harm." 
"  So  much  the  better,"  Juan  said,  "  for  them ; 

Else  they  shall  feel  the  weight  of  this  my  arm, 
Which  is  not  quite  so  light  as  you  may  deem. 

I  yield  thus  far ;  but  soon  will  break  the  charm, 
If  any  take  me  for  that  which  I  seem  : 

So  that  I  trust  for  every  body's  sake, 

That  this  disguise  may  lead  to  no  mistake." 

LXXXIII. 

"  Blockhead  !  come  on,  and  see,"  quoth  Baba ;  while 

Don  Juan,  turning  to  his  comrade,  who 
Though  somewhat  grieved,  could  scarce  forbear  a  smile 

Upon  the  metamorphosis  in  view, — 
"  Farewell !  "  they  mutually  exclaimed  :  "  this  soil 

Seems  fertile  in  adventures  strange  and  new ; 
One  's  turned  half  Mussulman,  and  one  a  maid, 
By  this  old  black  enchanter's  unsought  aid." 

i.  He  looked  almost  in  modesty  a  maid. — [MS.] 
VOL.    VI.  R 


242  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

LXXXIV. 

"  Farewell ! "  said  Juan  :  "  should  we  meet  no  more, 
I  wish  you  a  good  appetite." — "  Farewell ! " 

Replied  the  other ;  "  though  it  grieves  me  sore  : 
When  we  next  meet,  we  '11  have  a  tale  to  tell : 

We  needs  must  follow  when  Fate  puts  from  shore. 

Keep  your  good  name  ;  though  Eve  herself  once  fell." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  maid,  "  the  Sultan's  self  shan't  carry  me, 

Unless  his  Highness  promises  to  marry  me." 

LXXXV. 
And  thus  they  parted,  each  by  separate  doors ; 

Baba  led  Juan  onward,  room  by  room, 
Through  glittering  galleries,  and  o'er  marble  floors, 

Till  a  gigantic  portal  through  the  gloom, 
Haughty  and  huge,  along  the  distance  lowers ; 

And  wafted  far  arose  a  rich  perfume  : 
It  seemed  as  though  they  came  upon  a  shrine, 
For  all  was  vast,  still,  fragrant,  and  divine. 

LXXXVI. 
The  giant  door  was  broad,  and  bright,  and  high, 

Of  gilded  bronze,  and  carved  in  curious  guise ; 
Warriors  thereon  were  battling  furiously ; 

Here  stalks  the  victor,  there  the  vanquished  lies ; 
There  captives  led  in  triumph  droop  the  eye, 

And  in  perspective  many  a  squadron  flies  : 
It  seems  the  work  of  times  before  the  line 
Of  Rome  transplanted  fell  with  Constantine. 

LXXXVII. 
This  massy  portal  stood  at  the  wide  close 

Of  a  huge  hall,  and  on  its  either  side 
Two  little  dwarfs,  the  least  you  could  suppose, 

Were  sate,  like  ugly  imps,  as  if  allied 
In  mockery  to  the  enormous  gate  which  rose 

O'er  them  in  almost  pyramidic  pride  : 
The  gate  so  splendid  was  in  all  its  features,1 
You  never  thought  about  those  little  creatures, 

i.  Features  of  a  gate — a  ministerial  metaphor  :  "  the  feature  upon 
which  this  question  hinges."  See  the  "Fudge  Family,"  or  hear 
Castlereagh. 

[Phil.  Fudge,  in  his  letter  to  Lord  Castlereagh,  says— 


CANTO  V.] 


DON  JUAN. 


243 


LXXXVIII. 

Until  you  nearly  trod  on  them,  and  then 

You  started  back  in  horror  to  survey 
The  wondrous  hideousness  of  those  small  men, 

Whose  colour  was  not  black,  nor  white,  nor  grey, 
But  an  extraneous  mixture,  which  no  pen 

Can  trace,  although  perhaps  the  pencil  may ; 
They  were  mis-shapen  pigmies,  deaf  and  dumb — 
Monsters,  who  cost  a  no  less  monstrous  sum. 

LXXXIX. 
Their  duty  was — for  they  were  strong,  and  though 

They  looked  so  little,  did  strong  things  at  times — 
To  ope  this  door,  which  they  could  really  do, 

The  hinges  being  as  smooth  as  Rogers'  rhymes ; 
And  now  and  then,  with  tough  strings  of  the  bow, 

As  is  the  custom  of  those  Eastern  climes, 
To  give  some  rebel  Pacha  a  cravat — 
For  mutes  are  generally  used  for  that. 

xc. 
They  spoke  by  signs — that  is,  not  spoke  at  all ; 

And  looking  like  two  Incubi,  they  glared 
As  Baba  with  his  fingers  made  them  fall 

To  heaving  back  the  portal  folds  :  it  scared 
Juan  a  moment,  as  this  pair  so  small, 

With  shrinking  serpent  optics  on  him  stared ; 1 
It  was  as  if  their  little  looks  could  poison 
Or  fascinate  whome'er  they  fixed  their  eyes  on. 

"  As  thou  would'st  say,  my  guide  and  teacher 

In  these  gay  metaphoric  fringes, 
I  must  embark  into  the/eafure 
On  which  this  letter  chiefly  hinges." 

Moore's  note    adds,   "Verbatim  from  one  of  the   noble  Viscount's 
speeches: — 'And  now,  sir,  I  must  embark  into  the  feature  on  which 
this  question  chiefly  hinges.'  " — Fudge  Family  in  Paris,  Letter  II.    See, 
too,  post,  the  Preface  to  Cantos  VI.,  VII.,  and  VIII. ,  p.  264,  note  3.] 
i.  [Compare — 

' '  A  snake's  small  eye  blinks  dull  and  sly, 
And  the  lady's  eyes  they  shrunk  in_her  head, 
Each  shrunk  up  to  a  serpent's  eye." 

Christabel.  Part  II.  lines  583-585.] 


244  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

xci. 
Before  they  entered,  Baba  paused  to  hint 

To  Juan  some  slight  lessons  as  his  guide : 
"  If  you  could  just  contrive,"  he  said,  "  to  stint 

That  somewhat  manly  majesty  of  stride, 
'T  would  be  as  well,  and — (though  there  's  not  much  in  't) 

To  swing  a  little  less  from  side  to  side, 
Which  has  at  times  an  aspect  of  the  oddest ; — 
And  also  could  you  look  a  little  modest, 

xcn. 
"  'T  would  be  convenient ;  for  these  mutes  have  eyes 

Like  needles,  which  may  pierce  those  petticoats ; 
And  if  they  should  discover  your  disguise, 

You  know  how  near  us  the  deep  Bosphorus  floats ; 
And  you  and  I  may  chance,  ere  morning  rise, 

To  find  our  way  to  Marmora  without  boats, 
Stitched  up  in  sacks — a  mode  of  navigation 
A  good  deal  practised  here  upon  occasion."  l 

XCIII. 

With  this  encouragement  he  led  the  way 

Into  a  room  still  nobler  than  the  last ; 
A  rich  confusion  formed  a  disarray 

In  such  sort,  that  the  eye  along  it  cast 
Could  hardly  carry  anything  away, 

Object  on  object  flashed  so  bright  and  fast; 
A  dazzling  mass  of  gems,  and  gold,  and  glitter, 
Magnificently  mingled  in  a  litter. 

xciv. 
Wealth  had  done  wonders — taste  not  much ;  such  things 

Occur  in  Orient  palaces,  and  even 
In  the  more  chastened  domes  of  Western  kings 

(Of  which  I  have  also  seen  some  six  or  seven), 

i.  A  few  years  ago  the  wife  of  Muchtar  Pacha  complained  to  his 
father  of  his  son's  supposed  infidelity :  he  asked  with  whom,  and  she 
had  the  barbarity  to  give  in  a  list  of  the  twelve  handsomest  women  in 
Yanina.  They  were  seized,  fastened  up  in  sacks,  and  drowned  in  the 
lake  the  same  night.  One  of  the  guards  who  was  present  informed  me, 
that  not  one  of  the  victims  uttered  a  cry,  or  showed  a  symptom  of 
terror  at  so  sudden  a  "wrench  from  all  we  know,  from  all  we  love." 

[See  The  Giaour,  line  1328,  Poetical  Works,  1900,  iii.  144,  note  i.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON   JUAN.  245 

Where  I  can't  say  or  gold  or  diamond  flings 
Great  lustre,  there  is  much  to  be  forgiven ; 
Groups  of  bad  statues,  tables,  chairs,  and  pictures, 
On  which  I  cannot  pause  to  make  my  strictures. 

xcv. 
In  this  imperial  hall,  at  distance  lay 

Under  a  canopy,  and  there  reclined 
Quite  in  a  confidential  queenly  way, 

A  lady ;  Baba  stopped,  and  kneeling  signed 
To  Juan,  who  though  not  much  used  to  pray, 

Knelt  down  by  instinct,  wondering  in  his  mind 
What  all  this  meant :  while  Baba  bowed  and  bended 
His  head,  until  the  ceremony  ended. 

xcvi. 
The  lady  rising  up  with  such  an  air 

As  Venus  rose  with  from  the  wave,  on  them 
Bent  like  an  antelope  a  Paphian  pair  '• 

Of  eyes,  which  put  out  each  surrounding  gem ; 
And  raising  up  an  arm  as  moonlight  fair, 

She  signed  to  Baba,  who  first  kissed  the  hem 
Of  her  deep  purple  robe,  and,  speaking  low, 
Pointed  to  Juan  who  remained  below. 

xcvi  i. 
Her  presence  was  as  lofty  as  her  state ; 

Her  beauty  of  that  overpowering  kind, 
Whose  force  Description  only  would  abate : 

I  'd  rather  leave  it  much  to  your  own  mind, 
Than  lessen  it  by  what  I  could  relate 

Of  forms  and  features ;  it  would  strike  you  blind 
Could  I  do  justice  to  the  full  detail ; 
So,  luckily  for  both,  my  phrases  fail. 

XCVIII. 

Thus  much  however  I  may  add, — her  years 

Were  ripe,  they  might  make  six-and-twenty  springs, 

But  there  are  forms  which  Time  to  touch  forbears, 
And  turns  aside  his  scythe  to  vulgar  things  :  "• 

i.       As  Vemis  rose  from  Ocean — bent  on  them 

With  a  far-reaching  glance,  a  Paphian  fair. — [MS,] 
ii.  But  there  are  forms  -which  Time  adorns,  not  wears, 
And  to  which  Beauty  obstinately  clings. — [MS.] 


246  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

Such  as  was  Mary's,  Queen  of  Scots ;  true — tears 
And  Love  destroy ;  and  sapping  Sorrow  wrings 
Charms  from  the  charmer,  yet  some  never  grow 
Ugly ;  for  instance — Ninon  de  1'Enclos.1 

xcix. 
She  spake  some  words  to  her  attendants,  who 

Composed  a  choir  of  girls,  ten  or  a  dozen, 
And  were  all  clad  alike ;  like  Juan,  too, 

Who  wore  their  uniform,  by  Baba  chosen  : 
They  formed  a  very  nymph-like  looking  crew,2 

Which  might  have  called  Diana's  chorus  "  cousin," 
As  far  as  outward  show  may  correspond — 
I  won't  be  bail  for  anything  beyond. 

c. 

They  bowed  obeisance  and  withdrew,  retiring, 
But  not  by  the  same  door  through  which  came  in 

Baba  and  Juan,  which  last  stood  admiring, 
At  some  small  distance,  all  he  saw  within 

This  strange  saloon,  much  fitted  for  inspiring 
Marvel  and  praise ;  for  both  or  none  things  win ; 

And  I  must  say,  I  ne'er  could  see  the  very 

Great  happiness  of  the  "  Nil  admirari." 3 

ci. 
"  Not  to  admire  is  all  the  art  I  know 

(Plain  truth,  dear  Murray,  needs  few  flowers  of  speech) — 

1.  [Legend  has  credited  Ninon  de  Lenclos  (1620-1705)  with  lovers 
when  she  had  "come  to  four-score  years."    According  to  Voltaire, 
John  Casimir,  ex-king  of  Poland,  succumbed  to  her  secular  charms  (see 
Mazeppa,  line  138,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  212,  note  i).     "  In  her  old 
age,  her  house  was  the  rendezvous  of  wits  and  men  of  letters.    Scarron 
is  said  to  have  consulted  her  on  his  romances,  Saint-Evremond  on  his 
poems,  Moliere  on  his  comedies,  Fontenelle  on  his  dialogues,  and  La 
Rochefoucauld  on  his  maxims.     Coligny,  SeVign6,  etc.,  were  her  lovers 
and  friends.      At  her  death,  in  1705,  she  bequeathed  to  Voltaire  two 
thousand  francs,  to  expend  in  books." — Biographic  Universelle,  art. 
"  Lenclos."] 

2.  [' '  Her  fair  maids  were  ranged  below  the  sofa,  to  the  number  of 
twenty,  and  put  me  in  mind  of  the  pictures  of  the  ancient  nymphs.     I 
did  not  think  all  nature  could  have  furnished  such  a  scene  of  beauty," 
etc. — Lady  M.  W.  Montagu  to  the  Countess  of  Mar,  April  18,  O.S. 
1717,  ed.  1816,  p.  163.] 

3.  ["  Nil  admirari  prope  res  est  una,  Numici, 

Solaque  quse  possit  facere  et  servare  beatum. 

Hor.,  Epist.,  lib.  i,  ep.  vi.  lines  i,  2.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  247 

To  make  men  happy,  or  to  keep  them  so  " 
(So  take  it  in  the  very  words  of  Creech) — 

Thus  Horace  wrote  we  all  know  long  ago  ; 
And  thus  Pope *  quotes  the  precept  to  re-teach 

From  his  translation ;  but  had  none  admired, 

Would  Pope  have  sung,  or  Horace  been  inspired  ?  - 

en. 
Baba,  when  all  the  damsels  were  withdrawn, 

Motioned  to  Juan  to  approach,  and  then 
A  second  time  desired  him  to  kneel  down, 

And  kiss  the  lady's  foot ;  which  maxim  when 
He  heard  repeated,  Juan  with  a  frown 

Drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height  again, 
And  said,  "  It  grieved  him,  but  he  could  not  stoop 
To  any  shoe,  unless  it  shod  the  Pope." 

cm. 

Baba,  indignant  at  this  ill-timed  pride, 

Made  fierce  remonstrances,  and  then  a  threat 

He  muttered  (but  the  last  was  given  aside) 
About  a  bow-string — quite  in  vain  ;  not  yet 

Would  Juan  bend,  though  't  were  to  Mahomet's  bride  : 
There  's  nothing  in  the  world  like  etiquette 

In  kingly  chambers  or  imperial  halls, 

As  also  at  the  Race  and  County  Balls. 

civ. 

He  stood  like  Atlas,  with  a  world  of  words 
About  his  ears,  and  nathless  would  not  bend ; 

1.  ["  Not  to  admire,  is  all  the  Art  I  know 

To  make  men  happy,  and  to  keep  them  so, 
(Plain  Truth,  dear  MURRAY,  needs  no  flow'rs  of  speech, 
So  take  it  in  the  very  words  of  Creech)." 

To  Mr.   Murray    (Lord    Mansfield),    Pope's  Imitations    of  Horace, 
Book  I.  epist.  vi.  lines  1-4. 

Thomas  Creech  (1659-1701)  published  his  Translation  of  Horace  in 
1684.     In  the  second  edition,  1688,  p.  487,  the  lines  run — 
"  Not  to  admire,  as  most  are  wont  to  do, 
It  is  the  only  method  that  I  know, 
To  make  Men  happy  and  to  keep  'em  so."] 

2.  [Johnson  placed  judgment  and  friendship  above  admiration  and 
love.     "Admiration  and  love  are  like  being   intoxicated  with  cham- 
pagne ;  judgment  and  friendship  like  being  enlivened."    See  Boswell's 
Life  of  Johnson,  1876,  p.  450.] 


248  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

The  blood  of  all  his  line's  Castilian  lords 
Boiled  in  his  veins,  and,  rather  than  descend 

To  stain  his  pedigree,  a  thousand  swords 
A  thousand  times  of  him  had  made  an  end  ; 

At  length  perceiving  the  "foot"  could  not  stand, 

Baba  proposed  that  he  should  kiss  the  hand. 

cv. 

Here  was  an  honourable  compromise, 

A  half-way  house  of  diplomatic  rest, 
Where  they  might  meet  in  much  more  peaceful  guise ; 

And  Juan  now  his  willingness  expressed 
To  use  all  fit  and  proper  courtesies, 

Adding,  that  this  was  commonest  and  best, 
For  through  the  South,  the  custom  still  commands 
The  gentleman  to  kiss  the  lady's  hands. 

cvi. 
And  he  advanced,  though  with  but  a  bad  grace, 

Though  on  more  thorough-bred*  or  fairer  fingers 
No  lips  e'er  left  their  transitory  trace : 

On  such  as  these  the  lip  too  fondly  lingers, 
And  for  one  kiss  would  fain  imprint  a  brace, 

As  you  will  see,  if  she  you  love  shall  bring  hers 
In  contact ;  and  sometimes  even  a  fair  stranger's 
An  almost  twelvemonth's  constancy  endangers. 

cvn. 
The  lady  eyed  him  o'er  and  o'er,  and  bade 

Baba  retire,  which  he  obeyed  in  style, 
As  if  well  used  to  the  retreating  trade ; 

And  taking  hints  in  good  part  all  the  while, 
He  whispered  Juan  not  to  be  afraid, 

And  looking  on  him  with  a  sort  of  smile, 
Took  leave,  with  such  a  face  of  satisfaction, 
As  good  men  wear  who  have  done  a  virtuous  action. 

cvni. 

When  he  was  gone,  there  was  a  sudden  change : 
I  know  not  what  might  be  the  lady's  thought, 

i.  There  is  nothing,  perhaps,  more  distinctive  of  birth  than  the 
hand.  It  is  almost  the  only  sign  of  blood  which  aristocracy  can 
generate. 


CANTO  V.]  DON   JUAN.  249 

But  o'er  her  bright  brow  flashed  a  tumult  strange, 
And  into  her  clear  cheek  the  blood  was  brought, 

Blood-red  as  sunset  summer  clouds  which  range 

The  verge  of  Heaven ;  and  in  her  large  eyes  wrought, 

A  mixture  of  sensations  might  be  scanned, 

Of  half  voluptuousness  and  half  command. 

cix. 
Her  form  had  all  the  softness  of  her  sex, 

Her  features  all  the  sweetness  of  the  Devil, 
When  he  put  on  the  Cherub  to  perplex l 

Eve,  and  paved  (God  knows  how)  the  road  to  evil ; 
The  Sun  himself  was  scarce  more  free  from  specks 

Than  she  from  aught  at  which  the  eye  could  cavil ; 
Yet,  somehow,  there  was  something  somewhere  wanting, 
As  if  she  rather  ordered  than  was  granting. — 

ex. 
Something  imperial,  or  imperious,  threw 

A  chain  o'er  all  she  did ;  that  is,  a  chain 
Was  thrown  as  't  were  about  the  neck  of  you, — 

And  Rapture's  self  will  seem  almost  a  pain 
With  aught  which  looks  like  despotism  in  view ; 

Our  souls  at  least  are  free,  and  't  is  in  vain 
We  would  against  them  make  the  flesh  obey — 
The  spirit  in  the  end  will  have  its  way. 

CXI. 

Her  very  smile  was  haughty,  though  so  sweet ; 

Her  very  nod  was  not  an  inclination ; 
There  was  a  self-will  even  in  her  small  feet, 

As  though  they  were  quite  conscious  of  her  station — 
They  trod  as  upon  necks ;  and  to  complete 

Her  state  (it  is  the  custom  of  her  nation), 
A  poniard  decked  her  girdle,  as  the  sign 
She  was  a  Sultan's  bride  (thank  Heaven,  not  mine !). 

CXII. 

"  To  hear  and  to  obey  "  had  been  from  birth 
The  law  of  all  around  her ;  to  fulfil 

i.  [In  old  pictures  of  the  Fall,  it  is  a  cherub  who  whispers  into  the 
ear  of  Eve.    The  serpent's  coils  are  hidden  in  the  foliage  of  the  tree.] 


250  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

All  phantasies  which  yielded  joy  or  mirth, 

Had  been  her  slaves'  chief  pleasure,  as  her  will ; 

Her  blood  was  high,  her  beauty  scarce  of  earth  : 
Judge,  then,  if  her  caprices  e'er  stood  still ; 

Had  she  but  been  a  Christian,  I  've  a  notion 

We  should  have  found  out  the  "  perpetual  motion." 

CXIII. 

Whate'er  she  saw  and  coveted  was  brought ; 

Whate'er  she  did  not  see,  if  she  supposed 
It  might  be  seen,  with  diligence  was  sought, 

And  when 't  was  found  straightway  the  bargain  closed  : 
There  was  no  end  unto  the  things  she  bought, 

Nor  to  the  trouble  which  her  fancies  caused ; 
Yet  even  her  tyranny  had  such  a  grace, 
The  women  pardoned  all  except  her  face.1 

cxiv. 

Juan,  the  latest  of  her  whims,  had  caught 

Her  eye  in  passing  on  his  way  to  sale ; 
She  ordered  him  directly  to  be  bought, 

And  Baba,  who  had  ne'er  been  known  to  fail 
In  any  kind  of  mischief  to  be  wrought, 

At  all  such  auctions  knew  how  to  prevail :  "• 
She  had  no  prudence,  but  he  had — and  this 
Explains  the  garb  which  Juan  took  amiss. 

cxv. 

His  youth  and  features  favoured  the  disguise, 
And  should  you  ask  how  she,  a  Sultan's  bride, 

Could  risk  or  compass  such  strange  phantasies, 
This  I  must  leave  sultanas  to  decide  : 

Emperors  are  only  husbands  in  wives'  eyes, 
And  kings  and  consorts  oft  are  mystified,'"' 

As  we  may  ascertain  with  due  precision, 

Some  by  experience,  others  by  tradition. 

i.    The  very  -women  half  forgave  her  face. — \_MS.  erased.] 
ii.  Had  his  instructions  where  and  how  to  deal. — [MS.] 
iii.  And  husbands  now  and  then  are  mystified. — [MS.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON   JUAN.  251 

cxvr. 

But  to  the  main  point,  where  we  have  been  tending : — 

She  now  conceived  all  difficulties  past, 
And  deemed  herself  extremely  condescending 

When,  being  made  her  property  at  last, 
Without  more  preface,  in  her  blue  eyes  blending 

Passion  arid  power,  a  glance  on  him  she  cast, 
And  merely  saying,  "  Christian,  canst  thou  love  ?  " 
Conceived  that  phrase  was  quite  enough  to  move. 

CXVII. 

And  so  it  was,  in  proper  time  and  place ; 

But  Juan,  who  had  still  his  mind  o'erflowing 
With  HaideVs  isle  and  soft  Ionian  face, 

Felt  the  warm  blood,  which  in  his  face  was  glowing 
Rush  back  upon  his  heart,  which  filled  apace, 

And  left  his  cheeks  as  pale  as  snowdrops  blowing : 
These  words  went  through  his  soul  like  Arab  spears,1 
So  that  he  spoke  not,  but  burst  into  tears. 

CXVIII. 

She  was  a  good  deal  shocked ;  not  shocked  at  tears, 
For  women  shed  and  use  them  at  their  liking ; 

But  there  is  something  when  man's  eye  appears 
Wet,  still  more  disagreeable  and  striking  : 

A  woman's  tear-drop  melts,  a  man's  half  sears, 
Like  molten  lead,  as  if  you  thrust  a  pike  in 

His  heart  to  force  it  out,  for  (to  be  shorter) 

To  them  't  is  a  relief,  to  us  a  torture. 

cxix. 
And  she  would  have  consoled,  but  knew  not  how  : 

Having  no  equals,  nothing  which  had  e'er 
Infected  her  with  sympathy  till  now, 

And  never  having  dreamt  what 't  was  to  bear 
Aught  of  a  serious,  sorrowing  kind,  although 

There  might  arise  some  pouting  petty  care 
To  cross  her  brow,  she  wondered  how  so  near 
Her  eyes  another's  eye  could  shed  a  tear. 

i.  [Narrow  javelins,  once  known  as  archegays — the  assegais  of  Zulu 
warfare.] 


252  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

cxx. 
But  Nature  teaches  more  than  power  can  spoil,'- 

And,  when  a  strong  although  a  strange  sensation 
Moves — female  hearts  are  such  a  genial  soil 

For  kinder  feelings,  whatso'er  their  nation, 
They  naturally  pour  the  "  wine  and  oil," 

Samaritans  in  every  situation ; 
And  thus  Gulbeyaz,  though  she  knew  not  why, 
Felt  an  odd  glistening  moisture  in  her  eye. 

CXXI. 

But  tears  must  stop  like  all  things  else  ;  and  soon 
Juan,  who  for  an  instant  had  been  moved 

To  such  a  sorrow  by  the  intrusive  tone 

Of  one  who  dared  to  ask  if  "  he  had  loved," 

Called  back  the  Stoic  to  his  eyes,  which  shone 
Bright  with  the  very  weakness  he  reproved ; 

And  although  sensitive  to  beauty,  he 

Felt  most  indignant  still  at  not  being  free. 

CXXII. 

Gulbeyaz,  for  the  first  time  in  her  days, 
Was  much  embarrassed,  never  having  met 

In  all  her  life  with  aught  save  prayers  and  praise ; 
And  as  she  also  risked  her  life  to  get 

Him  whom  she  meant  to  tutor  in  love's  ways 
Into  a  comfortable  tete-a-te'te, 

To  lose  the  hour  would  make  her  quite  a  martyr, 

And  they  had  wasted  now  almost  a  quarter. 

CXXIII. 

I  also  would  suggest  the  fitting  time 
To  gentlemen  in  any  such  like  case, 

That  is  to  say  in  a  meridian  clime — 

With  us  there  is  more  law  given  to  the  chase, 

But  here  a  small  delay  forms  a  great  crime  : 
So  recollect  that  the  extremest  grace 

i.  But  nature  teaches  what  power  cannot  spoil 

And,  though  it  was  a  new  and  strange  sensation, 
Young  female  hearts  are  such  a  genial  soil 
For  kinder  feelings,  she  forgot  her  station. — \MS."\ 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  253 

Is  just  two  minutes  for  your  declaration — 
A  moment  more  would  hurt  your  reputation. 

cxxiv. 
Juan's  was  good ;  and  might  have  been  still  better, 

But  he  had  got  Haidee  into  his  head : 
However  strange,  he  could  not  yet  forget  her, 

Which  made  him  seem  exceedingly  ill-bred. 
Gulbeyaz,  who  looked  on  him  as  her  debtor 

For  having  had  him  to  her  palace  led, 
Began  to  blush  up  to  the  eyes,  and  then 
Grow  deadly  pale,  and  then  blush  back  again. 

cxxv. 
At  length,  in  an  imperial  way,  she  laid 

Her  hand  on  his,  and  bending  on  him  eyes 
Which  needed  not  an  empire  to  persuade, 

Looked  into  his  for  love,  where  none  replies : 
Her  brow  grew  black,  but  she  would  not  upbraid, 

That  being  the  last  thing  a  proud  woman  tries  ; 
She  rose,  and  pausing  one  chaste  moment  threw 
Herself  upon  his  breast,  and  there  she  grew. 

cxxvi. 
This  was  an  awkward  test,  as  Juan  found, 

But  he  was  steeled  by  Sorrow,  Wrath,  and  Pride : 
With  gentle  force  her  white  arms  he  unwound, 

And  seated  her  all  drooping  by  his  side, 
Then  rising  haughtily  he  glanced  around, 

And  looking  coldly  in  her  face  he  cried, 
"  The  prisoned  eagle  will  not  pair,  nor  I 
Serve  a  Sultana's  sensual  phantasy. 

cxxvi  i. 
"  Thou  ask'st,  if  I  can  love  ?  be  this  the  proof 

How  much  I  have  loved — that  I  love  not  thee  ! 
In  this  vile  garb,  the  distaff,  web,  and  woof, 

Were  fitter  for  ms  :  Love  is  for  the  free  ! 
I  am  not  dazzled  by  this  splendid  roof; 

Whate'er  thy  power,  and  great  it  seems  to  be, 
Heads  bow,  knees  bend,  eyes  watch  around  a  throne, 
And  hands  obey — our  hearts  are  still  our  own." 


254  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

cxxvni. 
This  was  a  truth  to  us  extremely  trite ; 

Not  so  to  her,  who  ne'er  had  heard  such  things  : 
She  deemed  her  least  command  must  yield  delight, 

Earth  being  only  made  for  Queens  and  Kings. 
If  hearts  lay  on  the  left  side  or  the  right 

She  hardly  knew,  to  such  perfection  brings 
Legitimacy  its  born  votaries,  when 
Aware  of  their  due  royal  rights  o'er  men. 

cxxix. 
Besides,  as  has  been  said,  she  was  so  fair 

As  even  in  a  much  humbler  lot  had  made 
A  kingdom  or  confusion  anywhere, 

And  also,  as  may  be  presumed,  she  laid 
Some  stress  on  charms,  which  seldom  are,  if  e'er, 

By  their  possessors  thrown  into  the  shade : 
She  thought  hers  gave  a  double  "  right  divine ; " 
And  half  of  that  opinion  's  also  mine. 

cxxx. 
Remember,  or  (if  you  can  not)  imagine, 

Ye  !  who  have  kept  your  chastity  when  young, 
While  some  more  desperate  dowager  has  been  waging 

Love  with  you,  and  been  in  the  dog-days  stung  '• 
By  your  refusal,  recollect  her  raging  ! 

Or  recollect  all  that  was  said  or  sung 
On  such  a  subject ;  then  suppose  the  face 
Of  a  young  downright  beauty  in  this  case  ! 

CXXXI. 

Suppose, — but  you  already  have  supposed, 
The  spouse  of  Potiphar,  the  Lady  Booby,1 

Phaedra,2  and  all  which  story  has  disclosed 
Of  good  examples ;  pity  that  so  few  by 

i.    War  with  your  heart . — [MS.] 

1.  [See  Fielding's  History  of  the  Adventures  of  Joseph  Andrews,  bk.  i. 
chap,  v.] 

2.  ["  '  But  if  my  boy  with  virtue  be  endued, 

What  harm  will  beauty  do  him  ? '     Nay,  what  good  ? 
Say,  what  avail'd,  of  old,  to  Theseus'  son, 
The  stern  resolve?  what  to  Bellerophon  ? — 


CANTO  V.]  DON   JUAN.  255 

Poets  and  private  tutors  are  exposed,'- 

To  educate — ye  youth  of  Europe — you  by  ! 
But  when  you  have  supposed  the  few  we  know, 
You  can't  suppose  Gulbeyaz'  angry  brow. 

cxxxn. 
A  tigress  robbed  of  young,  a  lioness, 

Or  any  interesting  beast  of  prey, 
Are  similes  at  hand  for  the  distress 

Of  ladies  who  can  not  have  their  own  way  ; 
But  though  my  turn  will  not  be  served  with  less, 

These  don't  express  one  half  what  I  should  say : 
For  what  is  stealing  young  ones,  few  or  many, 
To  cutting  short  their  hope  of  having  any  ? 

CXXXIII. 

The  love  of  offspring  's  Nature's  general  law, 

From  tigresses  and  cubs  to  ducks  and  ducklings ; 

There  's  nothing  whets  the  beak,  or  arms  the  claw 
Like  an  invasion  of  their  babes  and  sucklings ; 

And  all  who  have  seen  a  human  nursery,  saw 

How  mothers  love  their  children's  squalls  and  chuck- 
lings  : 

This  strong  extreme  effect  (to  tire  no  longer 

Your  patience)  shows  the  cause  must  still  be  stronger."- 

cxxxiv. 

If  I  said  fire  flashed  from  Gulbeyaz'  eyes, 
'T  were  nothing — for  her  eyes  flashed  always  fire  ; 

i.   The  poets  and  romances . — \MS.~\ 

ii.  And  this  strong  second  cause  (to  tire  no  longer 

Your  patience)  shows  the  first  must  still  be  stronger. — 

[MS.     Alternative  reading.'] 

O,  then  did  Phaedra  redden,  then  her  pride 

Took  fire  to  be  so  steadfastly  denied  ! 

Then,  too,  did  Sthenobaea  glow  with  shame, 

And  both  burst  forth  with  unextinguish'd  flame  !  " 

Gifford,  Juvenal,  Sat.  x.  473-480. 

The  adventures  of  Hippolytus,  the  son  of  Theseus,  and  Bellerophon 
are  well  known.  They  were  accused  of  incontinence,  by  the  women 
whose  inordinate  passions  they  had  refused  to  gratify  at  the  expense  of 
their  duty,  and  sacrificed  to  the  fatal  credulity  of  the  husbands  of  the 
disappointed  fair  ones.  It  is  very  probable  that  both  the  stories  are 
founded  on  the  Scripture  account  of  Joseph  and  Potiphar's  wife. — 
Footnote,  ibid.,  ed.  1817,  ii.  pp.  49,  50.] 


256  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

Or  said  her  cheeks  assumed  the  deepest  dyes, 
I  should  but  bring  disgrace  upon  the  dyer, 

So  supernatural  was  her  passion's  rise ; 

For  ne'er  till  now  she  knew  a  checked  desire  : 

Even  ye  who  know  what  a  checked  woman  is 

(Enough,  God  knows  !)  would  much  fall  short  of  this. 

cxxxv. 

Her  rage  was  but  a  minute's,  and  't  was  well — 
A  moment's  more  had  slain  her ;  but  the  while 

It  lasted  't  was  like  a  short  glimpse  of  Hell : 
Nought 's  more  sublime  than  energetic  bile, 

Though  horrible  to  see,  yet  grand  to  tell, 
Like  Ocean  warring  'gainst  a  rocky  isle ; 

And  the  deep  passions  flashing  through  her  form 

Made  her  a  beautiful  embodied  storm. 

cxxxvi. 
A  vulgar  tempest 't  were  to  a  typhoon 

To  match  a  common  fury  with  her  rage, 
And  yet  she  did  not  want  to  reach  the  moon,1 

Like  moderate  Hotspur  on  the  immortal  page ;  '• 
Her  anger  pitched  into  a  lower  tune, 

Perhaps  the  fault  of  her  soft  sex  and  age — 
Her  wish  was  but  to  "  kill,  kill,  kill,"  like  Lear's,2 
And  then  her  thirst  of  blood  was  quenched  in  tears. 

cxxxvi  i. 
A  storm  it  raged,  and  like  the  storm  it  passed, 

Passed  without  words — in  fact  she  could  not  speak ; 
And  then  her  sex's  shame 3  broke  in  at  last, 

A  sentiment  till  then  in  her  but  weak, 

i.  Like  natural  Shakespeare  on  the  immortal  page. — [A/iS.] 

1.  ["  By  Heaven  !  methinks,  it  were  an  easy  leap, 

To  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale-faced  moon." 

i  Henry  IV.,  act  i.  sc.  3,  lines  201,  202.] 

2.  ["And  when  I  have  stol'n  upon  these  sons-in  law, 

Then  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill." 

King  Lear,  act  iv.  sc.  6,  lines  185,  186.] 

3.  ["A  woman  scorn'd  is  pitiless  as  fate, 

For,  there,  the  dread  of  shame  adds  stings  to  hate." 
Gifford's  Juvenal,  Sat.  x.  lines  481,  482,  ed.  1817,  ii.  p.  50.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  257 

But  now  it  flowed  in  natural  and  fast, 

As  water  through  an  unexpected  leak ; 
For  she  felt  humbled — and  humiliation 
Is  sometimes  good  for  people  in  her  station. 

CXXXVIII. 

It  teaches  them  that  they  are  flesh  and  blood, 
It  also  gently  hints  to  them  that  others, 

Although  of  clay,  are  yet  not  quite  of  mud ; 
That  urns  and  pipkins  are  but  fragile  brothers, 

And  works  of  the  same  pottery,  bad  or  good, 

Though  not  all  born  of  the  same  sires  and  mothers ; 

It  teaches — Heaven  knows  only  what  it  teaches, 

But  sometimes  it  may  mend,  and  often  reaches. 

cxxxix. 
Her  first  thought  was  to  cut  off  Juan's  head ; 

Her  second,  to  cut  only  his — acquaintance ; 
Her  third,  to  ask  him  where  he  had  been  bred ; 

Her  fourth,  to  rally  him  into  repentance ; 
Her  fifth,  to  call  her  maids  and  go  to  bed ; 

Her  sixth,  to  stab  herself;  her  seventh,  to  sentence 
The  lash  to  Baba : — but  her  grand  resource 
Was  to  sit  down  again,  and  cry — of  course. 

CXL. 

She  thought  to  stab  herself,  but  then  she  had 

The  dagger  close  at  hand,  which  made  it  awkward ; 

For  Eastern  stays  are  little  made  to  pad, 
So  that  a  poniard  pierces  if 't  is  struck  hard : 

She  thought  of  killing  Juan — but,  poor  lad  ! 

Though  he  deserved  it  well  for  being  so  backward, 

The  cutting  off  his  head  was  not  the  art 

Most  likely  to  attain  her  aim — his  heart. 

CXLI. 
Juan  was  moved  :  he  had  made  up  his  mind 

To  be  impaled,  or  quartered  as  a  dish 
For  dogs,  or  to  be  slain  with  pangs  refined, 

Or  thrown  to  lions,  or  made  baits  for  fish, 
And  thus  heroically  stood  resigned, 

Rather  than  sin — except  to  his  own  wish  : 
VOL.  vi.  s 


258  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

But  all  his  great  preparatives  for  dying 
Dissolved  like  snow  before  a  woman  crying. 

CXLII. 

As  through  his  palms  Bob  Acres'  valour  oozed,1 
So  Juan's  virtue  ebbed,  I  know  not  how ; 

And  first  he  wondered  why  he  had  refused ; 
And  then,  if  matters  could  be  made  up  now ; 

And  next  his  savage  virtue  he  accused, 
Just  as  a  friar  may  accuse  his  vow, 

Or  as  a  dame  repents  her  of  her  oath, 

Which  mostly  ends  in  some  small  breach  of  both. 

CXLIII. 

So  he  began  to  stammer  some  excuses ; 

But  words  are  not  enough  in  such  a  matter, 
Although  you  borrowed  all  that  e'er  the  Muses 

Have  sung,  or  even  a  Dandy's  dandiest  chatter, 
Or  all  the  figures  Castlereagh  abuses ;  '• 

Just  as  a  languid  smile  began  to  flatter 
His  peace  was  making,  but,  before  he  ventured 
Further,  old  Baba  rather  briskly  entered. 

CXLIV. 
"  Bride  of  the  Sun  !  and  Sister  of  the  Moon  ! " 

('T  was  thus  he  spake,)  "  and  Empress  of  the  Earth  ! 
Whose  frown  would  put  the  spheres  all  out  of  tune, 

Whose  smile  makes  all  the  planets  dance  with  mirth, 
Your  slave  brings  tidings — he  hopes  not  too  soon — 

Which  your  sublime  attention  may  be  worth  : 
The  Sun  himself  has  sent  me  like  a  ray, 
To  hint  that  he  is  coming  up  this  way." 

CXLV. 

"  Is  it,"  exclaimed  Gulbeyaz,  "  as  you  say  ? 

I  wish  to  heaven  he  would  not  shine  till  morning  ! 

i.   Or  all  the  stuff  which  uttered  by  the  "Blues"  is. — [MS.] 

i.  ["Yes — my  valour  is  certainly  going !  it  is  sneaking  off!  I  feel  it 
oozing  out,  as  it  were,  at  the  palms  of  my  hands  !  "—Sheridan's  Rivals, 
act  v.  sc.  3.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON    JUAN.  259 

But  bid  my  women  form  the  milky  way. 

Hence,  my  old  comet !  give  the  stars  due  warning —  '• 
And,  Christian  !  mingle  with  them  as  you  may, 

And  as  you  'd  have  me  pardon  your  past  scorning " 

Here  they  were  interrupted  by  a  humming 

Sound,  and  then  by  a  cry,  "  The  Sultan  's  coming  ! " 

CXLVI. 
First  came  her  damsels,  a  decorous  file, 

And  then  his  Highness'  eunuchs,  black  and  white  ; 
The  train  might  reach  a  quarter  of  a  mile : 

His  Majesty  was  always  so  polite 
As  to  announce  his  visits  a  long  while 

Before  he  came,  especially  at  night ; 
For  being  the  last  wife  of  the  Emperor, 
She  was  of  course  the  favourite  of  the  four. 

CXLVI  I. 

His  Highness  was  a  man  of  solemn  port, 

Shawled  to  the  nose,  and  bearded  to  the  eyes, 

Snatched  from  a  prison  to  preside  at  court, 
His  lately  bowstrung  brother  caused  his  rise  ; 

He  was  as  good  a  sovereign  of  the  sort 
As  any  mentioned  in  the  histories 

Of  Cantemir,  or  Knolles,  where  few  shine  "• 

Save  Solyman,  the  glory  of  their  line.1 

i.  But  prithee — get  my  -women  in  the  way, 

That  all  the  stars  may  gleam  ivith  due  adorning. — [MS.] 
i  i .  Of  Cantemir  or  Kn  olles .  — [MS.  ] 

i.  It  may  not  be  unworthy  of  remark,  that  Bacon,  in  his  essay  on 
"Empire"  (Essays,  No.  xx.),  hints  that  Solyman  was  the  last  of  his 
line;  on  what  authority,  I  know  not.  These  are  his  words:  "The 
destruction  of  Mustapha  was  so  fatal  to  Solyman's  line  ;  as  the  succes- 
sion of  the  Turks  from  Solyman  until  this  day  is  suspected  to  be  untrue, 
and  of  strange  blood  ;  for  that  Selymus  the  second  was  thought  to  be 
supposititious."  But  Bacon,  in  his  historical  authorities,  is  often  in- 
accurate. I  could  give  half  a  dozen  instances  from  his  Apophthegms 
only. 

[Selim  II.  (1524-1574)  succeeded  his  father  as  Sultan  in  1566.  Hof- 
mann  (Lexicon  Univ.]  describes  him  as  "  meticulosus,  effeminatus, 
ebriosus,"  but  neither  Demetrius  Cantemir,  in  his  History  of  the 
Growth  and  Decay  of  the  Othman  Empire  (translated  by  N.  Tyndal, 
1734);  nor  The  Turkish  History  (written  by  Mr.  Knolles,  1701),  cast 
any  doubts  on  his  legitimacy.  Byron  complained  of  the  omission  from 
the  notes  to  the  first  edition  of  Don  Juan,  of  his  corrections  of  Bacon's 


260  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

CXLVIII. 

He  went  to  mosque  in  state,  and  said  his  prayers 
With  more  than  "  Oriental  scrupulosity ;"  1 

He  left  to  his  vizier  all  state  affairs, 
And  showed  but  little  royal  curiosity  : 

I  know  not  if  he  had  domestic  cares — 
No  process  proved  connubial  animosity ; 

Four  wives  and  twice  five  hundred  maids,  unseen, 

Were  ruled  as  calmly  as  a  Christian  queen.'- 

CXLIX. 
If  now  and  then  there  happened  a  slight  slip, 

Little  was  heard  of  criminal  or  crime ; 
The  story  scarcely  passed  a  single  lip — 

The  sack  and  sea  had  settled  all  in  time, 
From  which  the  secret  nobody  could  rip : 

The  public  knew  no  more  than  does  this  rhyme ; 
No  scandals  made  the  daily  press  a  curse — 
Morals  were  better,  and  the  fish  no  worse." 

CL. 
He  saw  with  his  own  eyes  the  moon  was  round, 

Was  also  certain  that  the  earth  was  square, 
Because  he  had  journeyed  fifty  miles,  and  found 

No  sign  that  it  was  circular  anywhere ; "' 
His  empire  also  was  without  a  bound : 

'T  is  true,  a  little  troubled  here  and  there, 
By  rebel  pachas,  and  encroaching  giaours, 
But  then  they  never  came  to  "  the  Seven  Towers  ;  " 2 

i.       Because  he  kept  them  wrapt  up  in  his  closet,  he 
Ruled  four  wives  and  twelve  hundred  whores,  unseen, 
More  easily  than  Christian  kings  one  queen. — [A/51.] 
ii.    There  ended  many  a  fair  Sultana's  trip  : 

The  Public  knew  no  more  than  does  this  rhyme  ; 
No  printed  scandals  Jlew, — the  fish,  of  course, 
Were  better — while  the  morals  were  no  worse. — [MS.] 
Hi.  No  sign  of  its  depression  anywhere. — [MS.] 

"  Apophthegms  "  (see  Letters,  1901,  v.  Appendix  VI.  pp.  597-600),  in  a 
letter  to  Murray,  dated  January  21,  1821,  vide  ibid.,  p.  220.] 

1.  [Gibbon.] 

2.  ["We  attempted  to  visit  the  Seven  Towers,  but  were  stopped  at 
the  entrance,  and  informed  that  without  a  firman  it  was  inaccessible  to 
strangers.  ...  It  was  supposed  that  Count  Bulukof,   the  Russian 
minister,  would  be  the  last  of  the  Moussqfirs,  or  imperial  hostages, 


CANTO  V.] 


DON   JUAN. 


261 


CLI. 

Except  in  shape  of  envoys,  who  were  sent 
To  lodge  there  when  a  war  broke  out,  according 

To  the  true  law  of  nations,  which  ne'er  meant 
Those  scoundrels,  who  have  never  had  a  sword  in 

Their  dirty  diplomatic  hands,  to  vent 

Their  spleen  in  making  strife,  and  safely  wording 

Their  lies,  yclept  despatches,  without  risk  or 

The  singeing  of  a  single  inky  whisker. 

CLII. 
He  had  fifty  daughters  and  four  dozen  sons, 

Of  whom  all  such  as  came  of  age  were  stowed, 
The  former  in  a  palace,  where  like  nuns 

They  lived  till  some  Bashaw  was  sent  abroad, 
When  she,  whose  turn  it  was,  was  wed  at  once, 

Sometimes  at  six  years  old l — though  this  seems  odd, 
'T  is  true ;  the  reason  is,  that  the  Bashaw 
Must  make  a  present  to  his  sire-in-law. 

CLIII. 
His  sons  were  kept  in  prison,  till  they  grew 

Of  years  to  fill  a  bowstring  or  the  throne, 
One  or  the  other,  but  which  of  the  two 

Could  yet  be  known  unto  the  fates  alone ; 
Meantime  the  education  they  went  through 

Was  princely,  as  the  proofs  have  always  shown ; 
So  that  the  heir  apparent  still  was  found 
No  less  deserving  to  be  hanged  than  crowned. 

CLIV. 

His  Majesty  saluted  his  fourth  spouse 
With  all  the  ceremonies  of  his  rank, 

confined  in  this  fortress  ;  but  since  the  year  1784  M.  Ruffin  and  many 
of  the  French  have  been  imprisoned  in  the  same  place ;  and  the 
dungeons  .  .  .  were  gaping,  it  seems,  for  the  sacred  persons  of  the 
gentlemen  composing  his  Britannic  Majesty's  mission,  previous  to 
the  rupture  between  Great  Britain  and  the  Porte  in  1809." — Hobhouse, 
Travels  in  Albania,  1858,  ii.  311,  312.] 

i.  ["The  princess  "  (Asma  Sultana,  daughter  of  Achmet  III.)  "com- 
plained of  the  barbarity  which,  at  thirteen  years  of  age,  united  her  to 
a  decrepit  old  man,  who,  by  treating  her  like  a  child,  had  inspired  her 
with  nothing  but  disgust." — Memoirs  of  Baron  de  Tott,  1786,  i.  74. 
See,  too,  Mtmoires,  etc.,  1784,  i.  84,  85.] 


262  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  v. 

Who  cleared  her  sparkling  eyes  and  smoothed  her  brows, 
As  suits  a  matron  who  has  played  a  prank ; 

These  must  seem  doubly  mindful  of  their  vows, 
To  save  the  credit  of  their  breaking  bank  : 

To  no  men  are  such  cordial  greetings  given 

As  those  whose  wives  have  made  them  fit  for  Heaven.1 

CLV. 
His  Highness  cast  around  his  great  black  eyes, 

And  looking,  as  he  always  looked,  perceived 
Juan  amongst  the  damsels  in  disguise, 

At  which  he  seemed  no  whit  surprised  nor  grieved, 
But  just  remarked  with  air  sedate  and  wise,'1 

While  still  a  fluttering  sigh  Gulbeyaz  heaved, 
"  I  see  you  Ve  bought  another  girl ;  't  is  pity 
That  a  mere  Christian  should  be  half  so  pretty." 

CLVI. 
This  compliment,  which  drew  all  eyes  upon 

The  new-bought  virgin,  made  her  blush  and  shake. 
Her  comrades,  also,  thought  themselves  undone  : 

Oh !  Mahomet !  that  his  Majesty  should  take 
Such  notice  of  a  giaour,  while  scarce  to  one 

Of  them  his  lips  imperial  ever  spake ! 
There  was  a  general  whisper,  toss,  and  wriggle, 
But  etiquette  forbade  them  all  to  giggle. 

CLVII. 
The  Turks  do  well  to  shut — at  least,  sometimes — 

The  women  up — because,  in  sad  reality, 
Their  chastity  in  these  unhappy  climes i!- 

Is  not  a  thing  of  that  astringent  quality 
Which  in  the  North  prevents  precocious  crimes, 

And  makes  our  snow  less  pure  than  our  morality  ; 

i.  with  solemn  air  and  wise.' — [MS.} 

ii.    Virginity  in  these  unhappy  climes. — [MS.] 

i.  [The  connection  between  "horns"  and  Heaven,  to  which  Byron 
twice  alludes,  is  not  very  obvious.  The  reference  may  be  to  the 
Biblical  "  horn  of  salvation,"  or  to;the  symbolical  horns  of  Divine  glory 
as  depicted  in  the  Moses  of  Michel  Angelo.  Compare  Mazeppa,  lines 
177,  178,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  213.] 


CANTO  V.]  DON   JUAN.  263 

The  Sun,  which  yearly  melts  the  polar  ice, 
Has  quite  the  contrary  effect — on  vice. 

CLVIII. 

Thus  in  the  East  they  are  extremely  strict, 
And  wedlock  and  a  padlock  mean  the  same  : 

Excepting  only  when  the  former  's  picked 
It  ne'er  can  be  replaced  in  proper  frame ; 

Spoilt,  as  a  pipe  of  claret  is  when  pricked : 
But  then  their  own  polygamy 's  to  blame ; 

Why  don't  they  knead  two  virtuous  souls  for  life 

Into  that  moral  centaur,  man  and  wife  ? * 

CLIX. 
Thus  far  our  chronicle ;  and  now  we  pause, 

Though  not  for  want  of  matter ;  but 't  is  time, 
According  to  the  ancient  epic  laws, 

To  slacken  sail,  and  anchor  with  our  rhyme. 
Let  this  fifth  canto  meet  with  due  applause, 

The  sixth  shall  have  a  touch  of  the  sublime  ; 
Meanwhile,  as  Homer  sometimes  sleeps,  perhaps 
You  '11  pardon  to  my  muse  a  few  short  naps.1- 

End  of  Canto  5l.h    Finished  Ravenna,  Nov.  27^  1820. 

Begun  Oct.  16,  1820. 
and  finished  copying  out,  Dec.  26. 

with  some  intermediate  additions,  1820. 

B. 


i.  Meanwhile  as  Homer  sometimes  sleeps,  much  more 
The  modern  muse  may  be  allowed  to  snore. — [MS.] 

i.  [This  stanza,  which  Byron  composed  in  bed,  February  27,  1821 
(see  Extracts  from  a  Diary,  Letters,  1901,  v.  209),  is  not  in  the  first 
edition.  On  discovering  the  omission,  he  wrote  to  Murray:  "Upon 
what  principle  have  you  omitted  .  .  .  one  of  the  concluding  stanzas 
sent  as  an  addition? — because  it  ended,  I  suppose,  with — 

'  And  do  not  link  two  virtuous  souls  for  life 
Into  that  moral  centaur,  man  and  wife  ? ' 

Now,  I  must  say,  once  for  all,  that  I  will  not  permit  any  human  being 
to  take  such  liberties  with  my  writings  because  I  am  absent.  I  desire 
the  omissions  to  be  replaced  (except  the  stanza  on  Semiramis) — particu- 
larly the  stanza  upon  the  Turkish  marriages." — Letter  to  Murray, 
August  31,  1821,  ibid.,  p.  351.] 


264  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 


PREFACE  TO   CANTOS  VI.,   VII.,   AND   VIII. 


THE  details  of  the  siege  of  Ismail  in  two  of  the  following 
cantos  (i.e.  the  seventh  and  eighth)  are  taken  from  a 
French  Work,  entitled  Histoire  de  la  Nouvdle  Russiel 
Some  of  the  incidents  attributed  to  Don  Juan  really 
occurred,  particularly  the  circumstance  of  his  saving  the 
infant,  which  was  the  actual  case  of  the  late  Due  de 
Richelieu,  then  a  young  volunteer  in  the  Russian  service, 
and  afterward  the  founder  and  benefactor  of  Odessa, 
where  his  name  and  memory  can  never  cease  to  be  re- 
garded with  reverence. 

In  the  course  of  these  cantos,  a  stanza  or  two  will  be 
found  relative  to  the  late  Marquis  of  Londonderry,2  but 
written  some  time  before  his  decease.  Had  that  person's 
oligarchy  died  with  him,  they  would  have  been  sup- 
pressed ;  as  it  is,  I  am  aware  of  nothing  in  the  manner 
of  his  death  or  of  his  life  to  prevent  the  free  expression 
of  the  opinions  of  all  whom  his  whole  existence  was  con- 
sumed in  endeavouring  to  enslave.  That  he  was  an 
amiable  man  in  private  life,  may  or  may  not  be  true :  but 
with  this  the  public  have  nothing  to  do;  and  as  to 
lamenting  his  death,  it  will  be  time  enough  when  Ireland 
has  ceased  to  mourn  for  his  birth.  As  a  minister,  I,  for 
one  of  millions,  looked  upon  him  as  the  most  despotic  in 

1.  [The  Marquis  Gabriel  de  Castelnau,   author  of  an  Essai  sur 
L' Histoire  ancienne  et  moderne  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie  (Sec.  Ed.  3  torn. 
1827),  was,  at  one  time,  resident  at  Odessa,  where  he  met  and  made 
the  acquaintance  of  Armand  Emanuel,  Due  de  Richelieu,  who  took 
part  in  the  siege  of  Ismail.     M.  Leon  de  Crousaz-Cretet  describes  him 
as  "ancien  surintendant  des  theatres  sous  1'Empereur  Paul." — Le  Due 
de  Richelieu,  1897,  p.  83.] 

2.  [For  Robert  Stewart,  Viscount  Castlereagh,  second  Marquis  of 
Londonderry  (1769-1822),  see  Letters,  1900,  iv.  108,  109,  note  i.] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON    JUAN.  265 

intention,  and  the  weakest  in  intellect,  that  ever  tyran- 
nised over  a  country.  It  is  the  first  time  indeed  since 
the  Normans  that  England  has  been  insulted  by  a 
minister  (at  least)  who  could  not  speak  English,  and  that 
Parliament  permitted  itself  to  be  dictated  to  in  the 
language  of  Mrs.  Malaprop. 

Of  the  manner  of  his  death  little  need  be  said,  except 
that  if  a  poor  radical,  such  as  Waddington  or  Watson,1 
had  cut  his  throat,  he  would  have  been  buried  in  a  cross- 
road, with  the  usual  appurtenances  of  the  stake  and 
mallet.  But  the  minister  was  an  elegant  lunatic — a  sen- 
timental suicide — he  merely  cut  the  "  carotid  artery," 
(blessings  on  their  learning  !)  and  lo  !  the  pageant,  and 
the  Abbey  !  and  "  the  syllables  of  dolour  yelled  forth  "  2 
by  the  newspapers — and  the  harangue  of  the  Coroner  in 
a  eulogy  over  the  bleeding  body  of  the  deceased — (an 
Anthony  worthy  of  such  a  Caesar) — and  the  nauseous  and 
atrocious  cant  of  a  degraded  crew  of  conspirators  against 
all  that  is  sincere  and  honourable.  In  his  death  he  was 
necessarily  one  of  two  things  by  the  law3 — a  felon  or  a  mad- 
man— and  in  either  case  no  great  subject  for  panegyric.4 

1.  [Samuel  Ferrand  Waddington,  born  1759,  hop-grower  and  radical 
politician,  first  came  into  notice  as  the  chairman  of  public  meetings  in 
favour  of  making  peace  with  the  French  in  1793.    He  was  the  author, 
inter  alia,  of  A  Key  to  a  Delicate  Investigation,  1812,  and  An  Address 
to  the  People  of  the  United  Kingdom,  1812.     He  was  alive  in  1822. 
James  Watson    (1766-1838),    a   radical   agitator  of  the  following  of 
Thomas  Spence,  was  engaged,  in  the  autumn  of  1816,  in  an  abortive 
conspiracy  to  blow  up  cavalry  barracks,  barricade  the  streets,  and  seize 
the  Bank  and  the  Tower.     He  was  tried  for  high  treason  before  Lord 
Ellenborough,  and  acquitted.] 

2.  [Macbeth.,  act  iv.  sc.  3,  lines  7,  8.] 

3.  I  say  by  the  law  of  the  land — the  laws  of  humanity  judge  more 
gently ;  but  as  the  legitimates  have  always  the  law  in  their  mouths, 
let  them  here  make  the  most  of  it. 

4.  [Mr.  Joseph  Carttar,  of  Deptford,  coroner  for  the  County  of  Kent, 
addressed  the  jury  at  some  length.     The  following  sentences  are  taken 
from  the  report  of  the  inquest,  contained  in  The  Annual  Biography 
and  Obititary  for  the  year  1823,  vol.  vii.  p.  57:  "As  a  public  man,  it 
is  impossible  for  me  to  weigh  his  character  in  any  scales  that  I  can 
hold.    In  private  life  I  believe  the  world  will  admit  that  a  more  amiable 
man  could  not  be  found.  ...  If  it  should  unfortunately  appear  that 
there  is  not  sufficient  evidence  to  prove  what  is  generally  considered 
the  indication  of  a  disordered  mind,  I  trust  that  the  jury  will  pay  some 
attention  to  my  humble  opinion,  which  is,  that  no  man  can  be  in  his 
proper  senses  at  the  moment  he  commits  so  rash  an  act  as  self-murder. 
.  .  .  The  Bible  declares  that  a  man  clings  to  nothing  so  strongly  as 


266  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

In  his  life  he  was — what  all  the  world  knows,  and  half  of 
it  will  feel  for  years  to  come,  unless  his  death  prove  a 
"  moral  lesson  "  to  the  surviving  Sejani l  of  Europe.  It 
may  at  least  serve  as  some  consolation  to  the  nations, 
that  their  oppressors  are  not  happy,  and  in  some  instances 
judge  so  justly  of  their  own  actions  as  to  anticipate  the 
sentence  of  mankind.  Let  us  hear  no  more  of  this  man ; 
and  let  Ireland  remove  the  ashes  of  her  Grattan  from  the 
sanctuary  of  Westminster.  Shall  the  patriot  of  humanity 
repose  by  the  Werther  of  politics  !  !  ! 

With  regard  to  the  objections  which  have  been  made 
on  another  score  to  the  already  published  cantos  of  this 
poem,  I  shall  content  myself  with  two  quotations  from 
Voltaire : — "  La  pudeur  s'est  enfuite  des  cceurs,  et  s'est 
refugie'e  sur  les  levres."  ..."  Plus  les  mceurs  sont 
de'prave's,  plus  les  expressions  deviennent  mesure'es ;  on 
croit  regagner  en  langage  ce  qu'on  a  perdu  en  vertu." 

This  is  the  real  fact,  as  applicable  to  the  degraded  and 
hypocritical  mass  which  leavens  the  present  English 
generation,  and  is  the  only  answer  they  deserve.  The 
hackneyed  and  lavished  title  of  Blasphemer — which,  with 
Radical,  Liberal,  Jacobin,  Reformer,  etc.,  are  the  changes 

his  own  life,  I  therefore  view  it  as  an  axiom,  and  an  abstract  principle, 
that  a  man  must  necessarily  be  out  of  his  mind  at  the  moment  of 
destroying  himself."  Byron,  probably,  read  the  report  of  the  inquest 
in  Cobbett's  Weekly  Register  (August  17,  1822,  vol.  43,  pp.  389-425). 
The  "  eulogy  "  was  in  perfectly  good  taste,  but  there  can  be  little  doubt 
that  if  "  Waddington  or  Watson"  had  cut  their  "carotid  arteries," 
the  verdict  would  have  been  different.] 

i.  From  this  number  must  be  excepted  Canning.  Canning  is  a 
genius,  almost  a  universal  one,  an  orator,  a  wit,  a  poet,  a  statesman ; 
and  no  man  of  talent  can  long  pursue  the  path  of  his  late  predecessor, 
Lord  C.  If  ever  man  saved  his  country,  Canning  can,  but  will  he? 
I  for  one,  hope  so. 

[The  phrase,  "great  moral  lesson,"  was  employed  by  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  a  propos  of  the  restoration  of  pictures  and  statues  to  their 
"  rightful  owners,"  in  a  despatch  addressed  to  Castlereagh,  under  date, 
Paris,  September  19,  1815  {The  Dispatches,  etc.  (ed.  by  Colonel  Gur- 
wood),  1847,  viii.  270).  The  words,  "  moral  lesson,"  as  applied  to  the 
French  generally,  are  to  be  found  in  Scott's  Field  of  Waterloo  (con- 
clusion, stanza  vi.  line  3),  which  was  written  about  the  same  time  as 
the  despatch.  Byron  quotes  them  in  his  "Ode  from  the  French," 
stanza  iv.  line  8  (see  Poetical  Works,  1900,  iii.  434,  note  i).  There  is  a 
satirical  allusion  to  the  Duke's  "assumption  of  the  didactic"  about 
teaching  a  "great  moral  lesson  "  in  the  Preface  to  the  first  number  of 
he  Liberal  (1822,  p.  xi.).] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON    JUAN.  267 

which  the  hirelings  are  daily  ringing  in  the  ears  of  those 
who  will  listen — should  be  welcome  to  all  who  recollect 
on  whom  it  was  originally  bestowed.  Socrates  and  Jesus 
Christ  were  put  to  death  publicly  as  blasphemers,  and  so 
have  been  and  may  be  many  who  dare  to  oppose  the 
most  notorious  abuses  of  the  name  of  God  and  the  mind 
of  man.  But  persecution  is  not  refutation,  nor  even 
triumph :  the  "  wretched  infidel,"  as  he  is  called,  is  pro- 
bably happier  in  his  prison  than  the  proudest  of  his 
assailants.  With  his  opinions  I  have  nothing  to  do — 
they  may  be  right  or  wrong — but  he  has  suffered  for 
them,  and  that  very  suffering  for  conscience'  sake  will 
make  more  proselytes  to  deism  than  the  example  of 
heterodox  1  Prelates  to  Christianity,  suicide  statesmen  to 
oppression,  or  overpensioned  homicides  to  the  impious 
alliance  which  insults  the  world  with  the  name  of 
"  Holy !  "  2  I  have  no  wish  to  trample  on  the  dishonoured 
or  the  dead ;  but  it  would  be  well  if  the  adherents  to  the 
classes  from  whence  those  persons  sprung  should  abate  a 
little  of  the  cant  which  is  the  crying  sin  of  this  double- 
dealing  and  false-speaking  time  of  selfish  spoilers,  and 
but  enough  for  the  present. 

1.  When  Lord  Sandwich  said  "he  did  not  know  the  difference  be- 
tween  orthodoxy  and  heterodoxy,"  Warburton,  the  bishop,  replied, 
"Orthodoxy,  my  lord,  is  my  doxy,  and  heterodoxy  is  anotlier  man's 
doxy."    A  prelate  of  the  present  day  has  discovered,  it  seems,  a  third 
kind  of  doxy,  which  has  not  greatly  exalted  in  the  eyes  of  the  elect 
that  which  Bentham  calls  "  Church-of-Englandism. " 

[For  the  "prelate,"  see  Letters,  1902,  vi.  101,  note  2.] 

2.  [For  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  the   Holy  Alliance,  see  the 
Introduction  to  The  Age  of  Bronze,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  538,  561.] 


268  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 


CANTO   THE    SIXTH.1 


"  THERE  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 

Which, — taken  at  the  flood," — you  know  the  rest,2 
And  most  of  us  have  found  it  now  and  then  : 

At  least  we  think  so,  though  but  few  have  guessed 
The  moment,  till  too  late  to  come  again. 

But  no  doubt  everything  is  for  the  best — 
Of  which  the  surest  sign  is  in  the  end : 
When  things  are  at  the  worst  they  sometimes  mend. 

n. 
There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  women, 

Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads — God  knows  where  : 
Those  navigators  must  be  able  seamen 

Whose  charts  lay  down  its  currents  to  a  hair ; 
Not  all  the  reveries  of  Jacob  Behmen  3 

With  its  strange  whirls  and  eddies  can  compare : 

1.  [Two  MSS.  (A,  B)  are  extant,  A  in  Byron's  handwriting,  B  a 
transcription  by  Mrs.  Shelley.    The  variants  are  marked  respectively 
MS.  A.,  MS.  B. 

Motto:  "  Thinkest  thou  that  because  them  art  virtuous  there  shall 
be  no  more  cakes  and  ale?  Aye  !  and  ginger  shall  be  hot  in  the 
mouth  too." — Twelfth.  Night,  or  What  You  Will,  Shakespeare,  act  ii. 
sc.  3,  lines  109-112. — [MS.  B.] 

This  motto,  in  an  amended  form,  which  was  prefixed  to  the  First 
Canto  in  1833,  appears  on  the  title-page  of  the  first  edition  of  Cantos 
VI.,  VII.,  VIII.,  published  by  John  Hunt  in  1823.] 

2.  [See  Shakespeare,  Julius  Ccesar,  act  iv.  sc.  3,  lines  216,  217.] 

3.  [Jacob  Behmen  (or  Boehm)  stands  for  "mystic."    Byron  twice 
compares  him  with  Wordsworth  (see  Letters,  1899,  iii.  239,  1900,  iv. 
238).] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON    JUAN.  269 

Men  with  their  heads  reflect  on  this  and  that — 

But  women  with  their  hearts  on  Heaven  knows  what ! ' 

in. 

And  yet  a  headlong,  headstrong,  downright  She, 
Young,  beautiful,  and  daring — who  would  risk 

A  throne — the  world — the  universe — to  be 
Beloved  in  her  own  way — and  rather  whisk 

The  stars  from  out  the  sky,  than  not  be  free  "• 
As  are  the  billows  when  the  breeze  is  brisk — 

Though  such  a  She  's  a  devil  (if  there  be  one), 

Yet  she  would  make  full  many  a  Manichean. 

IV. 

Thrones,  worlds,  et  cetera,  are  so  oft  upset 
By  commonest  ambition,  that  when  Passion 

O'erthrows  the  same,  we  readily  forget, 

Or  at  the  least  forgive,  the  loving  rash  one. 

If  Anthony  be  well  remembered  yet, 

'T  is  not  his  conquests  keep  his  name  in  fashion, 

But  Actium,  lost  for  Cleopatra's  eyes, 

Outbalances  all  Caesar's  victories."'- 

v. 
He  died  at  fifty  for  a  queen  of  forty ; 

I  wish  their  years  had  been  fifteen  and  twenty," 
For  then  wealth,  kingdoms,  worlds  are  but  a  sport — I 

Remember  when,  though  I  had  no  great  plenty 

i.  Man  with  his  head  reflects  (as  Spurzheim  tells). 
But  Woman  with  the  heart — or  something  else. 
or,  Man' s  pensive  part  is  (now  and  then]  the  head, 
Woman's  the  heart  or  anything  instead. — 

[MS.  A.     Alternative  reading.} 

ii.  Like  to  a  Comet's  tail . — [MS.  A.  erased.'] 

iii.  Overbalance  all  the  Ctzsar's  victories. — [MS.  A.] 
Outbalance  all  the  C&sar's  victories. — [MS.  B.\ 

In  the  Shelley  copy  " o'erbalance "  has  been  erased  and  "outbalance" 
inserted  in  Byron's  handwriting.  The  lines  must  have  been  intended  to 
run  thus — 

'T  is  not  his  conquests  keep  his  name  in  fashion 
But  Actium  lost ;  for  Cleopatra's  eyes 
Outbalance  all  the  Cesar's  victories. 
iv.  /  wish  that  they  had  been  eighteen . — [MS.  A.  erased.] 


270  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

Of  worlds  to  lose,  yet  still,  to  pay  my  court,  I 

Gave  what  I  had — a  heart ; l  as  the  world  went,  I 
Gave  what  was  worth  a  world ;  for  worlds  could  never 
Restore  me  those  pure  feelings,  gone  for  ever. 

VI. 

'T  was  the  boy's  "  mite,"  and,  like  the  "  widow's,"  may 
Perhaps  be  weighed  hereafter,  if  not  now ; 

But  whether  such  things  do  or  do  not  weigh, 
All  who  have  loved,  or  love,  will  still  allow 

Life  has  nought  like  it.     God  is  Love,  they  say, 
And  Love  's  a  god,  or  was  before  the  brow 

Of  Earth  was  wrinkled  by  the  sins  and  tears 

Of — but  Chronology  best  knows  the  years. 

VII. 

We  left  our  hero  and  third  heroine  in 

A  kind  of  state  more  awkward  than  uncommon, 

For  gentlemen  must  sometimes  risk  their  skin 
For  that  sad  tempter,  a  forbidden  woman  : 

Sultans  too  much  abhor  this  sort  of  sin, 

And  don't  agree  at  all  with  the  wise  Roman, 

Heroic,  stoic  Cato,  the  sententious, 

Who  lent  his  lady  to  his  friend  Hortensius.2 

VIII. 

I  know  Gulbeyaz  was  extremely  wrong ; 

I  own  it,  I  deplore  it,  I  condemn  it ; 
But  I  detest  all  fiction  even  in  song, 

And  so  must  tell  the  truth,  howe'er  you  blame  it. 
Her  reason  being  weak,  her  passions  strong, 

She   thought   that  her  Lord's  heart  (even  could   she 
claim  it) 

1.  [To  Mary  Chaworth.     Compare  "Our  union  would  have  healed 
feuds  ...  it  would  have  joined  lands  broad  and  rich  ;  it  would  have 
joined  at  least  one  heart." — Detached  Thoughts,  1821,  Letters,  1901,  v. 

44*0 

2.  [Cato  gave  up  his  wife  Martia  to  his  friend  Hortensius  ;  but,  on 
the  death  of  the  latter,  took  her  back  again.     This  conduct  was  cen- 
sured  by  Caesar,  who  observed  that  Cato  had  an  eye  to  the  main 
chance.     "It  was  the  wealth  of  Hortensius.     He  lent  the  young  man 
his  wife,  that  he  might  make  her  a  rich  widow." — Langhorne's  Plutarch, 
1838,  pp.  539,  547.] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  271 

Was  scarce  enough  ;  for  he  had  fifty-nine 
Years,  and  a  fifteen-hundredth  concubine. 

IX. 

I  am  not,  like  Cassio,  "  an  arithmetician," 
But  by  "  the  bookish  theoric  " l  it  appears, 

If 't  is  summed  up  with  feminine  precision, 

That,  adding  to  the  account  his  Highness'  years, 

The  fair  Sultana  erred  from  inanition ; 
For,  were  the  Sultan  just  to  all  his  dears, 

She  cbuld  but  claim  the  fifteen-hundredth  part 

Of  what  should  be  monopoly — the  heart. 

x. 

It  is  observed  that  ladies  are  litigious 

Upon  all  legal  objects  of  possession, 
And  not  the  least  so  when  they  are  religious, 

Which  doubles  what  they  think  of  the  transgression  : 
With  suits  and  prosecutions  they  besiege  us, 

As  the  tribunals  show  through  many  a  session, 
When  they  suspect  that  any  one  goes  shares 
In  that  to  which  the  law  makes  them  sole  heirs. 

XI. 

Now,  if  this  holds  good  in  a  Christian  land, 
The  heathen  also,  though  with  lesser  latitude/- 

Are  apt  to  carry  things  with  a  high  hand, 

And  take,  what  Kings  call  "  an  imposing  attitude ;  " 

And  for  their  rights  connubial  make  a  stand, 

When  their  liege  husbands  treat  them  with  ingratitude  ; 

And  as  four  wives  must  have  quadruple  claims, 

The  Tigris  hath  its  jealousies  like  Thames. 

XII. 

Gulbeyaz  was  the  fourth,  and  (as  I  said) 

The  favourite ;  but  what 's  favour  amongst  four  ? 

Polygamy  may  well  be  held  in  dread, 
Not  only  as  a  sin,  but  as  a  bore: 

\.  though  with  greater  latitude, — [MS.  A.~\ 

i.  {Othello,  act  i.  sc.  i,  lines  19-24.] 


2?2  DON    JUAN.  [CANTO  VI. 

Most  wise  men  with  one  moderate  woman  wed,'- 

Will  scarcely  find  philosophy  for  more ; 
And  all  (except  Mahometans)  forbear 
To  make  the  nuptial  couch  a  "  Bed  of  Ware."  1 

XIII. 

His  Highness,  the  sublimest  of  mankind, —  "• 
So  styled  according  to  the  usual  forms 

Of  every  monarch,  till  they  are  consigned 
To  those  sad  hungry  Jacobins  the  worms, 

Who  on  the  very  loftiest  kings  have  dined, — * 
His  Highness  gazed  upon  Gulbeyaz'  charms, 

Expecting  all  the  welcome  of  a  lover 

(A  "  Highland  welcome  "  2  all  the  wide  world  over). 

XIV. 

Now  here  we  should  distinguish ;  for  howe'er 
Kisses,  sweet  words,  embraces,  and  all  that, 

May  look  like  what  it  is — neither  here  nor  there,1" 
They  are  put  on  as  easily  as  a  hat, 

Or  rather  bonnet,  which  the  fair  sex  wear, 
Trimmed  either  heads  or  hearts  to  decorate, 

Which  form  an  ornament,  but  no  more  part 

Of  heads,  than  their  caresses  of  the  heart. 

xv. 
A  slight  blush,  a  soft  tremor,  a  calm  kind 

Of  gentle  feminine  delight,  and  shown 
More  in  the  eyelids  than  the  eyes,  resigned 

Rather  to  hide  what  pleases  most  unknown, 

i.  with  one  foolish  woman  wed. — [MS.  £.] 

ii.  His  Highness  the  sublimest  of  mankind. 

The  greatest,  wisest,  bravest,  [and  t/ie]  best, 
Proved  by  his  edicts  somewhat  blind, 

Who  saw  his  virtues  as  they  saw  the  rest — 
His  Highness  quite  connubially  inclined- 
Had  deigned  that  night  to  be  Gulbeyaz'  guest. — \MS.  A.] 
iii.  May  look  like  what  I  need  not  mention  here.— [MS.  A.] 

1.  [The   famous   bed,   measuring  twelve  feet  square,  to   which   an 
allusion  is  made  by  Shakespeare  in  Twelfth  Night,  act  iii.  sc.  2,  line 
44,  was  formerly  preserved  at  the  Saracen's  Head  at  Ware,  in  Hertford- 
shire.    The  bed  was  removed  from  Ware  to  the  Rye  House  in  1869.] 

2.  See  Waver  ley  [chap.  xx.]. 


CANTO  VI.]  DON    JUAN.  273 

Are  the  best  tokens  (to  a  modest  mind)  • 

Of  Love,  when  seated  on  his  loveliest  throne, 
A  sincere  woman's  breast, — for  over-warm 
Or  ovQi-cold  annihilates  the  charm. 

XVI. 

For  over-warmth,  if  false,  is  worse  than  truth ; 

If  true,  't  is  no  great  lease  of  its  own  fire ; 
For  no  one,  save  in  very  early  youth, 

Would  like  (I  think)  to  trust  all  to  desire, 
Which  is  but  a  precarious  bond,  in  sooth, 

And  apt  to  be  transferred  to  the  first  buyer 
At  a  sad  discount :  while  your  over  chilly 
Women,  on  t'  other  hand,  seem  somewhat  silly. 

XVII. 

That  is,  we  cannot  pardon  their  bad  taste, 
For  so  it  seems  to  lovers  swift  or  slow, 

Who  fain  would  have  a  mutual  flame  confessed, 
And  see  a  sentimental  passion  glow, 

Even  were  St.  Francis'  paramour  their  guest, 
In  his  monastic  concubine  of  snow ; — * 

In  short,  the  maxim  for  the  amorous  tribe  is 

Horatian,  " Medio  tu  tutissimus  ibis" 2 

XVIII. 

The  "  tu  "  's  too  much, — but  let  it  stand, — the  verse 
Requires  it,  that 's  to  say,  the  English  rhyme, 

And  not  the  pink  of  old  hexameters ; 

But,  after  all,  there  's  neither  tune  nor  time 

In  the  last  line,  which  cannot  well  be  worse,"' 
And  was  thrust  in  to  close  the  octave's  chime : 

I  own  no  prosody  can  ever  rate  it 

As  a  rule,  but  Truth  may,  if  you  translate  it. 

i.  Are  better  signs  if  such  things  can  be  signed. — [MS.  A.} 
ii.  In  the  damned  line  ('t  is  worth,  at  least,  a  curse) 

Which  I  have  examined  too  close. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [For  St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  and  the  "seven  great  balls  of  snow,"  of 
which  "  the  greatest "  was  "his  wife,"  see  The  Golden  Legend,  1900,  v. 
221,  vide  ante,  p.  32,  note  i.] 

2.  [The  words  media,  etc.,  are  to  be  found  in  Ovid.,  Metaw.,  lib.  ii. 
line  137  ;  the  doctrine,  Virtus  est  medium  vitiorum,  in  Horace,  Epist., 
lib.  i,  ep.  xviii.  line  9.] 

VOL.  VI.  T 


274  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

XIX. 

If  fair  Gulbeyaz  overdid  her  part,  * 

I  know  not  —  it  succeeded,  and  success 

Is  much  in  most  things,  not  less  in  the  heart 
Than  other  articles  of  female  dress. 

Self-love  in  Man,  too,  beats  all  female  art  ;  '• 
They  lie,  we  lie,  all  lie,  but  love  no  less  : 

And  no  one  virtue  yet,  except  starvation, 

Could  stop  that  worst  of  vices  —  propagation. 

XX. 

We  leave  this  royal  couple  to  repose  : 

A  bed  is  not  a  throne,  and  they  may  sleep, 

Whate'er  their  dreams  be,  if  of  joys  or  woes  : 
Yet  disappointed  joys  are  woes  as  deep 

As  any  man's  clay  mixture  undergoes. 
Our  least  of  sorrows  are  such  as  we  weep  ; 

'T  is  the  vile  daily  drop  on  drop  which  wears 

The  soul  out  (like  the  stone)  with  petty  cares."' 

XXI. 

A  scolding  wife,  a  sullen  son,  a  bill 
To  pay,  unpaid,  protested,  or  discounted 

At  a  per-centage  ;  a  child  cross,  dog  ill, 

A  favourite  horse  fallen  lame  just  as  he  's  mounted, 

A  bad  old  woman  making  a  worse  will,1 

Which  leaves  you  minus  of  the  cash  you  counted  "'• 

As  certain  ;  —  these  are  paltry  things,  and  yet 

I  've  rarely  seen  the  man  they  did  not  fret. 

XXII. 

I  'm  a  philosopher  ;  confound  them  all  !  iv- 

Bills,  beasts,  and  men,  and  —  no  !  not  womankind  !  v- 

i.  Self-love  that  whetstone  of  Don  Cupid's  art.  —  [MS.  A.] 
ii.  -  with  love  despairs.  —  [MS.  A.  erased.} 
Hi.    Which  diddles  you  -  .—[MS.  A.  erased.] 
iv.  /  'm  a  philosopher  ;  G  —  d  damn  them  all.  —  [MS.  B.] 

v.  Bills,  women,  wives,  dogs,  horses  and  mankind.  —  [MS.  B.  erased.] 

• 


i.  [Lady  Noel's  will  was  proved  February  22,  i8fe.  She  left  to  the 
trustees  a  portrait  of  Byron  .  .  .  with  directions  that  it  was  not  to  be 
shown  to  his  daughter  Ada  till  she  attained  the  age  of  twenty-one  ;  but 
that  if  her  mother  was  still  living,  it  was  not  to  be  so  delivered  without 
Lady  Byron's  consent.  —  Letters,  1901,  vi.  42,  note  i.] 


u*1 


CANTO  VI.] 


DON   JUAN. 


275 


With  one  good  hearty  curse  I  vent  my  gall, 
And  then  my  Stoicism  leaves  nought  behind 

Which  it  can  either  pain  or  evil  call, 

And  I  can  give  my  whole  soul  up  to  mind ; 

Though  what  is  soul,  or  mind,  their  birth  or  growth, 

Is  more  than  I  know — the  deuce  take  them  both  !  '• 

XXIII. 

So  now  all  things  are  damned  one  feels  at  ease, 

As  after  reading  Athanasius'  curse, 
Which  doth  your  true  believer  so  much  please : 

I  doubt  if  any  now  could  make  it  worse 
O'er  his  worst  enemy  when  at  his  knees, 

'T  is  so  sententious,  positive,  and  terse, 
And  decorates  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer, 
As  doth  a  rainbow  the  just  clearing  air. 

XXIV. 

Gulbeyaz  and  her  lord  were  sleeping,  or 
At  least  one  of  them  ! — Oh,  the  heavy  night, 

When  wicked  wives,  who  love  some  bachelor,"- 
Lie  down  in  dudgeon  to  sigh  for  the  light 

Of  the  grey  morning,  and  look  vainly  for 
Its  twinkle  through  the  lattice  dusky  quite — 

To  toss,  to  tumble,  doze,  revive,  and  quake 

Lest  their  too  lawful  bed-fellow  should  wake  ! m 

xxv. 
These  are  beneath  the  canopy  of  heaven, 

Also  beneath  the  canopy  of  beds 
Four-posted  and  silk-curtained,  which  are  given 

For  rich  men  and  their  brides  to  lay  their  heads 
Upon,  in  sheets  white  as  what  bards  call  "  driven 

Snow," *  Well !  't  is  all  hap-hazard  when  one  weds. 

i.  Is  more  than  I  know,  and,  so,  damn  them  both. — [MS.  A.  erased.] 
ii.    When  we  lie  down — wife,  spouse,  or  bachelor 

By  what  we  love  not,  to  sigh  for  the  light. — \MS.  A.  erased.] 
iii.  By  their  infernal  bedfellow . — [MS.  A.  erased."] 

i.  [The  comparison  of  Queen  Caroline  to  snow  may  be  traced  to  an 
article  in  the  Times  of  August  23,  1820  :  "  The  Queen  may  now,  we 
believe,  be  considered  as  triumphing  !  For  the  first  three  years  at  least 
of  her  Majesty's  painful  peregrinations,  she  stands  before  her  husband's 
admiring  subjects  '  as  white  as  unsunned  snows.'  "  Political  bards  and 


276  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

Gulbeyaz  was  an  empress,  but  had  been 
Perhaps  as  wretched  if  a  peasanfs  quean. 

XXVI. 

Don  Juan  in  his  feminine  disguise,1 

With  all  the  damsels  in  their  long  array, 
Had  bowed  themselves  before  th'  imperial  eyes, 

And  at  the  usual  signal  ta'en  their  way 
Back  to  their  chambers,  those  long  galleries 

In  the  seraglio,  where  the  ladies  lay 
Their  delicate  limbs ;  a  thousand  bosoms  there 
Beating  for  Love,  as  the  caged  bird  's  for  air. 

XXYII. 
I  love  the  sex,  and  sometimes  would  reverse 

The  Tyrant's a  wish,  "  that  Mankind  only  had 
One  neck,  which  he  with  one  fell  stroke  might  pierce  : " 

My  wish  is  quite  as  wide,  but  not  so  bad,'' 
And  much  more  tender  on  the  whole  than  fierce ; 

It  being  (not  now,  but  only  while  a  lad) 
That  Womankind  had  but  one  rosy  mouth,"' 
To  kiss  them  all  at  once  from  North  to  South. 

XXVIII. 

Oh,  enviable  Briareus  !  with  thy  hands 

And  heads,  if  thou  hadst  all  things  multiplied 

In  such  proportion ! — But  my  Muse  withstands 
The  giant  thought  of  being  a  Titan's  bride, 

i.  My  wish  were  general  but  no  worse. — [MS.  A.  erased.'] 
ii.   That  Womankind  had  only  one — say  heart. — [MS.  A.  erased."] 

lampoonists  of  the  king's  party  thanked  the  Times  for  ' '  giving  them 
that  word."] 

1.  [According  to  Gronow  (Reminiscences,  1889,  i.  62),  a  practical 
joke  of  Dan  Mackinnon's  (vide  ante,  p.  69,  footnote)  gave  Byron  a  hint 
for  this  scene  in  the  harem  :  "  Lord  Wellington  was  curious  about 
visiting  a  convent  near  Lisbon,  and  the  lady  abbess  made  no  difficulty. 
Mackinnon  hearing  this  contrived  to  get  clandestinely  within  the  sacred 
walls  ...  at  all  events,  when  Lord  Wellington  arrived  Dan  Mackinnon 
was  to  be  seen  among  the  nuns,  dressed  out  in  their  sacred  costume, 
with  bis  whiskers  shaved ;  and,  as  he  possessed  good  features,  he  was 
declared  to  be  one  of  the  best-looking  among  those  chaste  dames.     It 
was  supposed  that  this  adventure,  which  was  known  to  Lord  Byron, 
suggested  a  similar  episode  in  Don  Juan."] 

2.  [Caligula — vide  Suetonius,  De  XII.   Cess.,  C.  Cxs.  Calig.,  cap, 
xxx.,  "  Infensus  turbse  faventi  adversus  studium  exclamavit :  '  Utinam 
populus  Romanus  unam  cervicem  haberet ! '  "] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  377 

Or  travelling  in  Patagonian  lands ; 

So  let  us  back  to  Lilliput,  and  guide 
Our  hero  through  the  labyrinth  of  Love 
In  which  we  left  him  several  lines  above. 

XXIX. 

He  went  forth  with  the  lovely  Odalisques,1 
At  the  given  signal  joined  to  their  array; 

And  though  he  certainly  ran  many  risks, 
Yet  he  could  not  at  times  keep,  by  the  way, 

(Although  the  consequences  of  such  frisks 
Are  worse  than  the  worst  damages  men  pay 

In  moral  England,  where  the  thing  's  a  tax,) 

From  ogling  all  their  charms  from  breasts  to  backs. 

XXX. 

Still  he  forgot  not  his  disguise  : — along 
The  galleries  from  room  to  room  they  walked, 

A  virgin-like  and  edifying  throng, 

By  eunuchs  flanked ;  while  at  their  head  there  stalked 

A  dame  who  kept  up  discipline  among 

The  female  ranks,  so  that  none  stirred  or  talked, 

Without  her  sanction  on  their  she-parades : 

Her  title  was  "  the  Mother  of  the  Maids." 

XXXI. 

Whether  she  was  a  "  Mother,"  I  know  not, 

Or   whether    they   were   "  Maids "   who    called    her 
Mother ; 

But  this  is  her  Seraglio  title,  got 

I  know  not  how,  but  good  as  any  other ; 

So  Cantemir  2  can  tell  you,  or  De  Tott :  3 
Her  office  was  to  keep  aloof  or  smother 

All  bad  propensities  in  fifteen  hundred 

Young  women,  and  correct  them  when  they  blundered. 

1.  The  ladies  of  the  Seraglio. 

2.  [Demetrius   Cantemir,   hospodar  of  Moldavia.     His  work,   the 
History  of  the  Growth  and  Decay  of  the  Othman  Empire,  was  translated 
into  English  by  N.  Tyndal,  1734.     He  died  in  1723.] 

3.  [Baron  de  Tott,  in  his  Memoirs  concerning  the  State  of  the  Turkish 
Empire  (1786,  i.  72),  gives  the  title  of  this  functionary  as  Kiaya  Kadnn, 
i.  e.  Mistress  or  Governess  of  the  Ladies.] 


278  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

XXXII. 

A  goodly  sinecure,  no  doubt !  but  made 
More  easy  by  the  absence  of  all  men — 

Except  his  Majesty, — who,  with  her  aid, 

And  guards,  and  bolts,  and  walls,  and  now  and  then 

A  slight  example,  just  to  cast  a  shade 

Along  the  rest,  contrived  to  keep  this  den 

Of  beauties  cool  as  an  Italian  convent, 

Where  all  the  passions  have,  alas  !  but  one  vent. 

XXXIII. 

And  what  is  that  ?     Devotion,  doubtless — how 
Could  you  ask  such  a  question  ? — but  we  will 

Continue.     As  I  said,  this  goodly  row 
Of  ladies  of  all  countries  at  the  will l 

Of  one  good  man,  with  stately  march  and  slow, 
Like  water-lilies  floating  down  a  rill — 

Or  rather  lake — for  rills  do  not  run  slowly, — 

Paced  on  most  maiden-like  and  melancholy. 

xxxiv. 
But  when  they  reached  their  own  apartments,  there, 

Like  birds,  or  boys,  or  bedlamites  broke  loose, 
Waves  at  spring-tide,  or  women  anywhere 

When  freed  from  bonds  (which  are  of  no  great  use 
After  all),  or  like  Irish  at  a  fair, 

Their  guards  being  gone,  and  as  it  were  a  truce 
Established  between  them  and  bondage,  they 
Began  to  sing,  dance,  chatter,  smile,  and  play. 

xxxv. 
Their  talk,  of  course,  ran  most  on  the  new  comer ; 

Her  shape,  her  hair,  her  air,  her  everything : 
Some  thought  her  dress  did  not  so  much  become  her, 

Or  wondered  at  her  ears  without  a  ring  ; 
Some  said  her  years  were  getting  nigh  their  summer, 

Others  contended  they  were  but  in  spring ; 
Some  thought  her  rather  masculine  in  height, 
While  others  wished  that  she  had  been  so  quite. 

i.  [The  repetition  of  the  same  rhyme-word  was  noted  in  Blackwood 's 
Edinburgh  Magazine,  July,  1823,  vol.  xiv.  p.  90.] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON  JUAN.  279 

XXXVI. 

But  no  one  doubted  on  the  whole,  that  she 
Was  what  her  dress  bespoke,  a  damsel  fair, 

And  fresh,  and  "  beautiful  exceedingly,"  l 

Who  with  the  brightest  Georgians 2  might  compare  : 

They  wondered  how  Gulbeyaz,  too,  could  be 
So  silly  as  to  buy  slaves  who  might  share 

(If  that  his  Highness  wearied  of  his  bride) 

Her  Throne  and  Power,  and  everything  beside. 

XXXVII. 

But  what  was  strangest  in  this  virgin  crew, 
Although  her  beauty  was  enough  to  vex, 

After  the  first  investigating  view, 

They  all  found  out  as  few,  or  fewer,  specks 

In  the  fair  form  of  their  companion  new, 
Than  is  the  custom  of  the  "gentle  sex, 

When  they  survey,  with  Christian  eyes  or  Heathen, 

In  a  new  face  "  the  ugliest  creature  breathing." 

XXXVIII. 

And  yet  they  had  their  little  jealousies, 
Like  all  the  rest ;  but  upon  this  occasion, 

Whether  there  are  such  things  as  sympathies 
Without  our  knowledge  or  our  approbation, 

Although  they  could  not  see  through  his  disguise, 
All  felt  a  soft  kind  of  concatenation, 

Like  Magnetism,  or  Devilism,  or  what 

You  please — we  will  not  quarrel  about  that : 

XXXIX. 

But  certain  't  is  they  all  felt  for  their  new 
Companion  something  newer  still,  as  't  were 

1.  ["I  guess,  't  was  frightful  there  to  see 

A  lady  so  richly  clad  as  she — 
Beautiful  exceedingly." 

Christabel,  Part  I.  lines  66-68.  ] 

2.  "It  is  in  the  adjacent  climates  of  Georgia,  Mingrelia,  and  Cir- 
cassia,  that  nature  has  placed,  at  least  to  our  eyes,  the  model  of  beauty, 
in  the  shape  of  the  limbs,  the  colour  of  the  skin,  the  symmetry  of  the 
features,  and  the  expression  of  the  countenance  :  the  men  are  formed 
for  action,  the  women  for  love." — Gibbon,  [Decline  and  Fall,  etc.,  1825, 
iii.  126.] 


280  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

A  sentimental  friendship  through  and  through, 
Extremely  pure,  which  made  them  all  concur 

In  wishing  her  their  sister,  save  a  few 
Who  wished  they  had  a  brother  just  like  her, 

Whom,  if  they  were  at  home  in  sweet  Circassia, 

They  would  prefer  to  Padisha 1  or  Pacha. 

XL. 

Of  those  who  had  most  genius  for  this  sort 
Of  sentimental  friendship,  there  were  three, 

Lolah,  Katinka,2  and  Dudh — in  short 
(To  save  description),  fair  as  fair  can  be 

Were  they,  according  to  the  best  report, 
Though  differing  in  stature  and  degree, 

And  clime  and  time,  and  country  and  complexion — 

They  all  alike  admired  their  new  connection. 

XLI. 

Lolah  was  dusk  as  India  and  as  warm  j 

Katinka  was  a  Georgian,  white  and  red, 
With  great  blue  eyes,  a  lovely  hand  and  arm, 

And  feet  so  small  they  scarce  seemed  made  to  tread, 
But  rather  skim  the  earth  ;  while  Dudu's  form 

Looked  more  adapted  to  be  put  to  bed, 
Being  somewhat  large,  and  languishing,  and  lazy, 
Yet  of  a  beauty  that  would  drive  you  crazy. 

1.  Padisha  is  the  Turkish  title  of  the  Grand  Signior. 

2.  [Katinka  was  the  name  of  the  youngest  sister  of  Theresa,   the 
"Maid  of  Athens." — See  letter  to  H.  Drury,  May  3,  1810,  Letters, 
1898,  i.  269,  note  i ;  and  Poetical  Works,  1900,  iii.  15,  note  i. 

It  is  probable  that  the  originals  of  Katinka  and  Dudu  were  two 
Circassians  who  were  presented  for  sale  to  Nicolas  Ernest  Kleeman  (see 
his  Voyage  de  Vienne,  etc. ,  1780,  pp.  142,  143)  at  Kaffa,  in  the  Crimea. 
Of  the  first  he  writes,  "  Elle  me  baisa  la  main,  et  par  1'ordre  de  son 
maitre,  elle  se  promena  en  long  et  en  large,  pour  me  faire  remarquer 
sa  taille  mince  et  aise*e.  Elle  avoit  un  joli  petit  pied.  .  .  .  Quand  elle 
a  en  6t6  son  voile  elle  a  pre"sente"  &  mes  yeux  une  beaute"  tr&s-attra- 
yante  ;  ses  cheveux  e"toient  blonds  argente"s ;  elle  avoit  de  grands  yeux 
bleux,  le  nez  un  peu  long,  et  les  levres  appe"tissantes.  Sa  figure  e"toit 
r^guliere,  son  teint  blanc,  d61icat,  les  joues  couvertes  d'un  charmant 
vermilion.  ...  La  seconde  e"toit  un  peu  petite,  assez  grasse,  et  avoit 
les  cheveux  roux,  1'air  sensuel  et  revenant."  Kleeman  pretended  to 
offer  terms,  took  notes,  and  retired.  But  the  Circassians  are  before  us 
still.] 


CANTO  VI.] 


DON   JUAN. 


28l 


XLII. 

A  kind  of  sleepy  Venus  seemed  Dudii, 
Yet  very  fit  to  "  murder  sleep  "  in  those l 

Who  gazed  upon  her  cheek's  transcendent  hue, 
Her  Attic  forehead,  and  her  Phidian  nose  : 

Few  angles  were  there  in  her  form,  't  is  true, 

Thinner  she  might  have  been,  and  yet  scarce  lose ; 

Yet,  after  all,  't  would  puzzle  to  say  where 

It  would  not  spoil  some  separate  charm  to  pare. 

XLIII. 
She  was  not  violently  lively,  but 

Stole  on  your  spirit  like  a  May-day  breaking  ; 
Her  eyes  were  not  too  sparkling,  yet,  half-shut, 

They  put  beholders  in  a  tender  taking ; 
She  looked  (this  simile  's  quite  new)  just  cut 

From  marble,  like  Pygmalion's  statue  waking, 
The  mortal  and  the  marble  still  at  strife, 
And  timidly  expanding  into  Life. 

XLIV. 
Lolah  demanded  the  new  damsel's  name — 

"  Juanna." — Well,  a  pretty  name  enough. 
Katinka  asked  her  also  whence  she  came — 

" From  Spain."— "But  where  is  Spain?"—" Don't  ask 

such  stuff, 
Nor  show  your  Georgian  ignorance — for  shame  ! " 

Said  Lolah,  with  an  accent  rather  rough, 
To  poor  Katinka  :  "  Spain  's  an  island  near 
Morocco,  betwixt  Egypt  and  Tangier." 

XLV. 
Dudu  said  nothing,  but  sat  down  beside 

Juanna,  playing  with  her  veil  or  hair ; 
And,  looking  at  her  steadfastly,  she  sighed, 

As  if  she  pitied  her  for  being  there, 
A  pretty  stranger  without  friend  or  guide, 

And  all  abashed,  too,  at  the  general  stare 
Which  welcomes  hapless  strangers  in  all  places, 
With  kind  remarks  upon  their  mien  and  faces. 

i.  [Macbeth,  act  ii.  sc.  2,  line  36.1 


282  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

XLVI. 

But  here  the  Mother  of  the  Maids  drew  near, 

With  "  Ladies,  it  is  time  to  go  to  rest. 
I  'm  puzzled  what  to  do  with  you,  my  dear  ! " 

She  added  to  Juanna,  their  new  guest : 
"  Your  coming  has  been  unexpected  here, 

And  every  couch  is  occupied ;  you  had  best 
Partake  of  mine ;  but  by  to-morrow  early 
We  will  have  all  things  settled  for  you  fairly." 

XLVII. 

Here  Lolah  interposed — "  Mamma,  you  know 
You  don't  sleep  soundly,  and  I  cannot  bear 

That  anybody  should  disturb  you  so ; 
I  '11  take  Juanna ;  we  're  a  slenderer  pair 

Than  you  would  make  the  half  of ; — don't  say  no  ; 
And  I  of  your  young  charge  will  take  due  care." 

But  here  Katinka  interfered,  and  said, 

"  She  also  had  compassion  and  a  bed." 

XLVIII. 

"  Besides,  I  hate  to  sleep  alone,"  quoth  she. 

The   matron  frowned:   "Why  so?" — "For   fear   of 

ghosts," 
Replied  Katinka ;  "  I  am  sure  I  see 

A  phantom  upon  each  of  the  four  posts ; 
And  then  I  have  the  worst  dreams  that  can  be, 

Of  Guebres,  Giaours,  and  Ginns,  and  Gouls  in  hosts." 
The  dame  replied,  "  Between  your  dreams  and  you, 
I  fear  Juanna's  dreams  would  be  but  few. 

XLIX. 

"  You,  Lolah,  must  continue  still  to  lie 

Alone,  for  reasons  which  don't  matter ;  you 

The  same,  Katinka,  until  by  and  by  : 
And  I  shall  place  Juanna  with  Dudu, 

Who  's  quiet,  inoffensive,  silent,  shy, 

And  will  not  toss  and  chatter  the  night  through. 

What  say  you,  child  ?  " — Dudu  said  nothing,  as 

Her  talents  were  of  the  more  silent  class  ; 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  283 

L. 

But  she  rose  up,  and  kissed  the  matron's  brow 
Between  the  eyes,  and  Lolah  on  both  cheeks, 

Katinka  too  ;  and  with  a  gentle  bow 

(Curt'sies  are  neither  used  by  Turks  nor  Greeks) 

She  took  Juanna  by  the  hand  to  show 

Their  place  of  rest,  and  left  to  both  their  piques, , 

The  others  pouting  at  the  matron's  preference 

Of  Dudh,  though  they  held  their  tongues  from  deference. 

LI. 
It  was  a  spacious  chamber  (Oda  is 

The  Turkish  title),  and  ranged  round  the  wall 
Were  couches,  toilets — and  much  more  than  this 

I  might  describe,  as  I  have  seen  it  all, 
But  it  suffices — little  was  amiss ; 

'T  was  on  the  whole  a  nobly  furnished  hall, 
With  all  things  ladies  want,  save  one  or  two, 
And  even  those  were  nearer  than  they  knew. 

LII. 

Dudu,  as  has  been  said,  was  a  sweet  creature, 
Not  very  dashing,  but  extremely  winning, 

With  the  most  regulated  charms  of  feature, 
Which  painters  cannot  catch  like  faces  sinning 

Against  proportion — the  wild  strokes  of  nature 
Which  they  hit  off  at  once  in  the  beginning, 

Full  of  expression,  right  or  wrong,  that  strike, 

And  pleasing,  or  unpleasing,  still  are  like. 

LIII. 
But  she  was  a  soft  landscape  of  mild  earth, 

Where  all  was  harmony,  and  calm,  and  quiet, 
Luxuriant,  budding ;  cheerful  without  mirth, 

Which,  if  not  happiness,  is  much  more  nigh  it 
Than  are  your  mighty  passions  and  so  forth, 

Which,  some  call  "  the  Sublime  :  "  I  wish  they  'd  try  it : 
I  've  seen  your  stormy  seas  and  stormy  women, 
And  pity  lovers  rather  more  than  seamen. 

LIV. 

But  she  was  pensive  more  than  melancholy, 
And  serious  more  than  pensive,  and  serene, 


284  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

It  may  be,  more  than  either — not  unholy 

Her  thoughts,  at  least  till  now,  appear  to  have  been. 

The  strangest  thing  was,  beauteous,  she  was  wholly 
Unconscious,  albeit  turned  of  quick  seventeen, 

That  she  was  fair,  or  dark,  or  short,  or  tall ; 

She  never  thought  about  herself  at  all. 

LV. 
And  therefore  was  she  kind  and  gentle  as 

The  Age  of  Gold  (when  gold  was  yet  unknown, 
By  which  its  nomenclature  came  to  pass ;  '• 

Thus  most  appropriately  has  been  shown 
"  Lucus  a  non  lucendo,"  not  what  was, 

But  what  was  not;  a  sort  of  style  that 's  grown 
Extremely  common  in  this  age,  whose  metal 
The  Devil  may  decompose,  but  never  settle  :  "• 

LVI. 
I  think  it  may  be  of  "  Corinthian  Brass,"  l 

Which  was  a  mixture  of  all  metals,  but 
The  brazen  uppermost).     Kind  reader  !  pass 

This  long  parenthesis :  I  could  not  shut 
It  sooner  for  the  soul  of  me,  and  class 

My  faults  even  with  your  own !  which  meaneth,  Put 
A  kind  construction  upon  them  and  me  : 
But  that  you  won't — then  don't — I  am  not  less  free. 

LVII. 
'T  is  time  we  should  return  to  plain  narration, 

And  thus  my  narrative  proceeds  : — Dudu, 
With  every  kindness  short  of  ostentation, 

Showed  Juan,  or  Juanna,  through  and  through 
This  labyrinth  of  females,  and  each  station 

Described — what 's  strange — in  words  extremely  few  : 
I  have  but  one  simile,  and  that 's  a  blunder, 
For  wordless  woman,  which  is  silent  thunder. '"• 

i.  By  which  no  doubt  its  Baptism  came  to  pass. — [MS.  A .  erased.] 
ii.    The  Devil  in  Hell  might  melt  but  never  settle, — [MS.  A.  erased.] 
iii.  For  Woman's  silence  startles  more  than  thunder. — [MS.  A.  erased. ~* 

i.  [Hence  the  title  of  the  satire,  The  Age  of  Bronze.} 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  385 

LVIII. 

And  next  she  gave  her  (I  say  her,  because 

The  gender  still  was  epicene,  at  least 
In  outward  show,  which  is  a  saving  clause) 

An  outline  of  the  customs  of  the  East, 
With  all  their  chaste  integrity  of  laws, 

By  which  the  more  a  Harem  is  increased, 
The  stricter  doubtless  grow  the  vestal  duties 
Of  any  supernumerary  beauties. 

LIX. 
And  then  she  gave  Juanna  a  chaste  kiss  : 

DudU  was  fond  of  kissing — which  I  'm  sure 
That  nobody  can  ever  take  amiss, 

Because  't  is  pleasant,  so  that  it  be  pure, 
And  between  females  means  no  more  than  this — 

That  they  have  nothing  better  near,  or  newer. 
"  Kiss  "  rhymes  to  "  bliss  "  in  fact  as  well  as  verse — 
I  wish  it  never  led  to  something  worse. 

LX. 
In  perfect  innocence  she  then  unmade 

Her  toilet,  which  cost  little,  for  she-was 
A  child  of  Nature,  carelessly  arrayed  : 

If  fond  of  a  chance  ogle  at  her  glass, 
'T  was  like  the  fawn,  which,  in  the  lake  displayed, 

Beholds  her  own  shy,  shadowy  image  pass, 
When  first  she  starts,  and  then  returns  to  peep, 
Admiring  this  new  native  of  the  deep. 

LXI. 
And  one  by  one  her  articles  of  dress 

Were  laid  aside ;  but  not  before  she  offered 
Her  aid  to  fair  Juanna,  whose  excess 

Of  modesty  declined  the  assistance  proffered : 
Which  passed  well  off — as  she  could  do  no  less ; 

Though  by  this  politesse  she  rather  suffered, 
Pricking  her  fingers  with  those  cursed  pins, 
Which  surely  were  invented  for  our  sins,- — 

LXII. 

Making  a  woman  like  a  porcupine, 
Not  to  be  rashly  touched.     But  still  more  dread, 


286  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

Oh  ye  !  whose  fate  it  is,  as  once  't  was  mine, 

In  early  youth,  to  turn  a  lady's  maid ; — 
I  did  my  very  boyish  best  to  shine 

In  tricking  her  out  for  a  masquerade  : 
The  pins  were  placed  sufficiently,  but  not 
Stuck  all  exactly  in  the  proper  spot. 

LXIII. 
But  these  are  foolish  things  to  all  the  wise, 

And  I  love  Wisdom  more  than  she  loves  me ; 
My  tendency  is  to  philosophise 

On  most  things,  from  a  tyrant  to  a  tree ; 
But  still  the  spouseless  virgin  Knowledge  flies. 

What  are  we  ?  and  whence  came  we  ?  what  shall  be 
Our  ultimate  existence  ?  what 's  our  present  ? 
Are  questions  answerless,  and  yet  incessant. 

LXIV. 
There  was  deep  silence  in  the  chamber  :  dim 

And  distant  from  each  other  burned  the  lights, 
And  slumber  hovered  o'er  each  lovely  limb 

Of  the  fair  occupants  :  if  there  be  sprites, 
They  should  have  walked  there  in  their  sprightliest  trim, 

By  way  of  change  from  their  sepulchral  sites, 
And  shown  themselves  as  ghosts  of  better  taste 
Than  haunting  some  old  ruin  or  wild  waste. 

LXV. 

Many  and  beautiful  lay  those  around, 

Like  flowers  of  different  hue,  and  clime,  and  root, 
In  some  exotic  garden  sometimes  found, 

With  cost,  and  care,  and  warmth  induced  to  shoot. 
One  with  her  auburn  tresses  lightly  bound, 

And  fair  brows  gently  drooping,  as  the  fruit 
Nods  from  the  tree,  was  slumbering  with  soft  breath, 
And  lips  apart,  which  showed  the  pearls  beneath. 

LXVI. 
One  with  her  flushed  cheek  laid  on  her  white  arm, 

And  raven  ringlets  gathered  in  dark  crowd 
Above  her  brow,  lay  dreaming  soft  and  warm ; 

And  smiling  through  her  dream,  as  through  a  cloud 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  287 

The  moon  breaks,  half  unveiled  each  further  charm, 

As,  slightly  stirring  in  her  snowy  shroud, 
Her  beauties  seized  the  unconscious  hour  of  night 
All  bashfully  to  struggle  into  light. 

LXVII. 
This  is  no  bull,  although  it  sounds  so ;  for 

'T  was  night,  but  there  were  lamps,  as  hath  been  said. 
A  third  's  all  pallid  aspect  offered  more 

The  traits  of  sleeping  sorrow,  and  betrayed 
Through  the  heaved  breast  the  dream  of  some  far  shore 

Belove'd  and  deplored ;  while  slowly  strayed 
(As  night-dew,  on  a  cypress  glittering,  tinges 
The  black  bough)  tear-drops   through   her  eyes'  dark 
fringes. 

LXVIII. 
A  fourth  as  marble,  statue-like  and  still, 

Lay  in  a  breathless,  hushed,  and  stony  sleep ; 
White,  cold,  and  pure,  as  looks  a  frozen  rill, 

Or  the  snow  minaret  on  an  Alpine  steep, 
Or  Lot's  wife  done  in  salt, — or  what  you  will ; — 

My  similes  are  gathered  in  a  heap, 
So  pick  and  choose — perhaps  you  '11  be  content 
With  a  carved  lady  on  a  monument. 

LXIX. 
And  lo  !  a  fifth  appears ; — and  what  is  she  ? 

A  lady  of  a  "  certain  age,"  1  which  means 
Certainly  aged — what  her  years  might  be 

I  know  not,  never  counting  past  their  teens  ; 
But  there  she  slept,  not  quite  so  fair  to  see, 

As  ere  that  awful  period  intervenes 
Which  lays  both  men  and  women  on  the  shelf, 
To  meditate  upon  their  sins  and  self. 

LXX. 

But  all  this  time  how  slept,  or  dreamed,  Dudii  ? 
With  strict  inquiry  I  could  ne'er  discover, 

i.  [Compare  Beppo,  stanza  xxii.  line  2,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  166, 
note  i.] 


288  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

And  scorn  to  add  a  syllable  untrue ; 

But  ere  the  middle  watch  was  hardly  over, 
Just  when  the  fading  lamps  waned  dim  and  blue, 

And  phantoms  hovered,  or  might  seem  to  hover, 
To  those  who  like  their  company,  about 
The  apartment,  on  a  sudden  she  screamed  out : 

LXXI. 
And  that  so  loudly,  that  upstarted  all 

The  Oda,  in  a  general  commotion  : 
Matron  and  maids,  and  those  whom  you  may  call 

Neither,  came  crowding  like  the  waves  of  Ocean, 
One  on  the  other,  throughout  the  whole  hall, 

All  trembling,  wondering,  without  the  least  notion 
More  than  I  have  myself  of  what  could  make 
The  calm  Dudu  so  turbulently  wake. 

LXXII. 
But  wide  awake  she  was,  and  round  her  bed, 

With  floating  draperies  and  with  flying  hair, 
With  eager  eyes,  and  light  but  hurried  tread, 

And  bosoms,  arms,  and  ankles  glancing  bare. 
And  bright  as  any  meteor  ever  bred 

By  the  North  Pole, — they  sought  her  cause  of  care, 
For  she  seemed  agitated,  flushed,  and  frightened, 
Her  eye  dilated,  and  her  colour  heightened. 

LXXIII. 

But  what  is  strange — and  a  strong  proof  how  great 
A  blessing  is  sound  sleep — Juanna  lay 

As  fast  as  ever  husband  by  his  mate 
In  holy  matrimony  snores  away. 

Not  all  the  clamour  broke  her  happy  state 
Of  slumber,  ere  they  shook  her, — so  they  say 

At  least, — and  then  she,  too,  unclosed  her  eyes, 

And  yawned  a  good  deal  with  discreet  surprise.1' 

LXXIV. 
And  now  commenced  a  strict  investigation, 

Which,  as  all  spoke  at  once,  and  more  than  once 

i.    With  no  less  true  and  feminine  surprise.— [MS.  A.  erased.} 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  289 

Conjecturing,  wondering,  asking  a  narration, 

Alike  might  puzzle  either  wit  or  dunce 
To  answer  in  a  very  clear  oration. 

Dudu  had  never  passed  for  wanting  sense, 
But  being  "  no  orator  as  Brutus  is," l 
Could  not  at  first  expound  what  was  amiss. 

LXXV. 
At  length  she  said,  that  in  a  slumber  sound 

She  dreamed  a  dream,  of  walking  in  a  wood — 
A  "  wood  obscure,"  like  that  where  Dante  found  3 

Himself  in  at  the  age  when  all  grow  good ;  '• 
Life's  half-way  house,  where  dames  with  virtue  crowned 

Run  much  less  risk  of  lovers  turning  rude ; 
And  that  this  wood  was  full  of  pleasant  fruits, 
And  trees  of  goodly  growth  and  spreading  roots ; 

LXXVI. 
And  in  the  midst  a  golden  apple  grew, — 

A  most  prodigious  pippin — but  it  hung 
Rather  too  high  and  distant ;  that  she  threw 

Her  glances  on  it,  and  then,  longing,  flung 
Stones  and  whatever  she  could  pick  up,  to 

Bring  down  the  fruit,  which  still  perversely  clung 
To  its  own  bough,  and  dangled  yet  in  sight, 
But  always  at  a  most  provoking  height ;  "• 

LXXVII. 
That  on  a  sudden,  when  she  least  had  hope, 

It  fell  down  of  its  own  accord  before 
Her  feet ;  that  her  first  movement  was  to  stoop 

And  pick  it  up,  and  bite  it  to  the  core ; 
That  just  as  her  young  lip  began  to  ope iiL 

Upon  the  golden  fruit  the  vision  bore, 

i.       Himself  in  an  age  when  men  grow  good, 

As  Life's  best  half  is  done . — [MS.  A.  erased. ,] 

ii.  But  out  of  reach — a  most  provoking  sight. — [MS.  A.  erased  J\ 
iii.    That  ere  her  unreluctant  lips  could,  ope.— [MS.  A.] 

1.  [Julius  Ccesar,  act  iii.  sc.  n,  line  216.] 

2.  ["  Nel  mezzo  del  cammin  di  nostra  vita 

Mi  ritrovai  per  una  selva  oscura,"  etc. 

Inferno,  Canto  I.  lines  i,  2.] 
VOL.  VI.  U 


290  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

A  bee  flew  out,  and  stung  her  to  the  heart, 

And  so— she  woke  with  a  great  scream  and  start. 

LXXVIII. 
All  this  she  told  with  some  confusion  and 

Dismay,  the  usual  consequence  of  dreams 
Of  the  unpleasant  kind,  with  none  at  hand 

To  expound  their  vain  and  visionary  gleams. 
I  've  known  some  odd  ones  which  seemed  really  planned 

Prophetically,  or  that  which  one  deems 
A  "  strange  coincidence,"  to  use  a  phrase 
By  which  such  things  are  settled  now-a-days.1 

LXXIX. 

The  damsels,  who  had  thoughts  of  some  great  harm, 

Began,  as  is  the  consequence  of  fear, 
To  scold  a  little  at  the  false  alarm 

That  broke  for  nothing  on  their  sleeping  ear. 
The  matron,  too,  was  wroth  to  leave  her  warm 

Bed  for  the  dream  she  had  been  obliged  to  hear, 
And  chafed  at  poor  Dudu,  who  only  sighed, 
And  said,  that  she  was  sorry  she  had  cried. 

LXXX. 

"  I  've  heard  of  stories  of  a  cock  and  bull ; 

But  visions  of  an  apple  and  a  bee, 
To  take  us  from  our  natural  rest,  and  pull 

The  whole  Oda  from  their  beds  at  half-past  three, 
Would  make  us  think  the  moon  is  at  its  full. 

You  surely  are  unwell,  child  !  we  must  see, 
To-morrow,  what  his  Highness's  physician 
Will  say  to  this  hysteric  of  a  vision. 

LXXXI. 
"  And  poor  Juanna,  too,  the  child's  first  night 

Within  these  walls,  to  be  broke  in  upon 
With  such  a  clamour — I  had  thought  it  right 

That  the  young  stranger  should  not  lie  alone, 

i.  [One  of  the  advocates  employed  for  Queen  Caroline  in  the  House 
of  Lords  spoke  of  some  of  the  most  puzzling  passages  in  the  history  of 
her  intercourse  with  Bergami,  as  amounting  to  "odd  instances  of 
strange  coincidence." — Ed.  1833,  xvi.  160.] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON    JUAN.  29 1 

And,  as  the  quietest  of  all,  she  might 

With  you,  Dudu,  a  good  night's  rest  have  known  : 
But  now  I  must  transfer  her  to  the  charge 
Of  Lolah — though  her  couch  is  not  so  large." 

LXXXII. 
Lolah's  eyes  sparkled  at  the  proposition ; 

But  poor  Dudu,  with  large  drops  in  her  own, 
Resulting  from  the  scolding  or  the  vision, 

Implored  that  present  pardon  might  be  shown 
For  this  first  fault,  and  that  on  no  condition 

(She  added  in  a  soft  and  piteous  tone) 
Juanna  should  be  taken  from  her,  and 
Her  future  dreams  should  be  all  kept  in  hand. 

LXXXIII. 
She  promised  never  more  to  have  a  dream, 

At  least  to  dream  so  loudly  as  just  now  ; 
She  wondered  at  herself  how  she  could  scream — 

'T  was  foolish,  nervous,  as  she  must  allow, 
A  fond  hallucination,  and  a  theme 

For  laughter — but  she  felt  her  spirits  low, 
And  begged  they  would  excuse  her ;  she  'd  get  over 
This  weakness  in  a  few  hours,  and  recover. 

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,  Dudu  turned  round 

And  hid  her  face  within  Juanna's  breast : 
Her  neck  alone  was  seen,  but  that  was  found 

The  colour  of  a  budding  rose's  crest.'- 

i.  At  least  as  red  as  the  Flamingo's  breast, — [MS.  A .  erased,  j 


292  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

I  can't  tell  why  she  blushed,  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.1 

LXXXVII. 
With  the  first  ray,  or  rather  grey  of  morn, 

Gulbeyaz  rose  from  restlessness ;  and  pale 
As  Passion  rises,  with  its  bosom  worn, 

Arrayed  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  natural, 
The  numbers  are  too  great  for  them  to  flatter  all. 

LXXXIX. 

Rose  the  Sultana  from  a  bed  of  splendour, 
Softer  than  the  soft  Sybarite's,  who  cried  2 

1.  [Byron  used  Kaff  for  Caucasus,  vide  ante,  English  Bards,  etc., 
line  1022,  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  378,  note  3.     But  there  may  be  some 
allusion  to  the  fabulous  Kaff,  "anciently  imagined  by  the  Asiatics  to 
surround  the  world,  to  bind  the  horizon  on  all  sides."    There  was  a 
proverb  "  From  Kaf  to  Kaf,"  i.e.  "  the  wide  world  through."   See,  too, 
D'Herbelot's  Bibliotheque  Orientate,  1697,  art.  "  Caf."] 

2.  [See  L.  A.  Seneca,  De  Ira,  lib.  ii.  cap.  25.] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  293 

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  abhorred ; 
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. 

xci. 
He  did  not  think  much  on  the  matter,  nor 

Indeed  on  any  other :  as  a  man 
He  liked  to  have  a  handsome  paramour 

At  hand,  as  one  may  like  to  have  a  fan, 
And  therefore  of  Circassians  had  good  store, 

As  an  amusement  after  the  Divan ; 
Though  an  unusual  fit  of  love,  or  duty, 
Had  made  him  lately  bask  in  his  bride's  beauty. 

xcn. 
And  now  he  rose ;  and  after  due  ablutions 

Exacted  by  the  customs  of  the  East, 
And  prayers  and  other  pious  evolutions, 

He  drank  six  cups  of  coffee  at  the  least, 
And  then  withdrew  to  hear  about  the  Russians, 

Whose  victories  had  recently  increased 
In  Catherine's  reign,  whom  Glory  still  adores/ 
As  greatest  of  all  sovereigns  and  w s. 

xcm. 

But  oh,  thou  grand  legitimate  Alexander  ! '  1 
Her  son's  son,  let  not  this  last  phrase  offend 

i.   Oh  thou  her  lawful  grandson  Alexander 

Let  not  this  quality  offend . — \MS.  A.  erased."} 

i.  [Compare   The  Age  of  Bronze,  lines  434,  sq.,  Poetical   Works, 
1901,  v.  563,  note  i.] 


294  DON  JUAN  [CANTO  vi. 

Thine  ear,  if  it  should  reach — and  now  rhymes  wander 
Almost  as  far  as  Petersburgh,  and  lend 

A  dreadful  impulse  to  each  loud  meander 

Of  murmuring  Liberty's  wide  waves,  which  blend 

Their  roar  even  with  the  Baltic's — so  you  be 

Your  father's  son,  't  is  quite  enough  for  me. 

xciv. 
To  call  men  love-begotten,  or  proclaim  '• 

Their  mothers  as  the  antipodes  of  Timon, 
That  hater  of  Mankind,  would  be  a  shame, 

A  libel,  or  whate'er  you  please  to  rhyme  on  : 
But  people's  ancestors  are  History's  game ;  "• 

And  if  one  Lady's  slip  could  leave  a  crime  on 
All  generations,  I  should  like  to  know 
What  pedigree  the  best  would  have  to  show  ? 1 

xcv. 
Had  Catherine  and  the  Sultan  understood 

Their  own  true  interests,  which  Kings  rarely  know, 
Until 't  is  taught  by  lessons  rather  rude, 

There  was  a  way  to  end  their  strife,  although 
Perhaps  precarious,  had  they  but  thought  good, 

Without  the  aid  of  Prince  or  Plenipo  : 
She  to  dismiss  her  guards  and  he  his  Harem, 
And  for  their  other  matters,  meet  and  share  'em. 

xcvi. 
But  as  it  was,  his  Highness  had  to  hold 

His  daily  council  upon  ways  and  means 
How  to  encounter  with  this  martial  scold, 

This  modern  Amazon  and  Queen  of  queans ; 
j 

i.    To  call  a  man  a  whoreson . — [MS.  A.  erased.'] 

ii.  But  a  man  s  grandmother  is  deemed  fair  game. — [MS.  A.] 

i.  [It  is  probable  that  Byron  knew  that  there  was  a  "hint  of 
illegitimacy"  in  his  own  pedigree.  John  Byron  of  Clayton,  grand- 
father of  Richard  the  second  Lord  Byron,  was  born,  out  of  wedlock,  to 
Elizabeth,  daughter  of  William  Costerden,  of  Blakesley,  in  Lancashire, 
widow  to  George  Halgh  of  Halgh  (sic),  and  second  wife  of  Sir  John 
Byron  of  Clayton,  "little  Sir  John  with  the  great  beard."  He  suc- 
ceeded to  Newstead  and  the  Lancashire  estates,  not  as  heir-at-law, 
but  by  deed  of  gift.  (See  letter  to  Murray,  October  20,  1820,  Letters, 
1901,  v.  99,  note  2.)] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  295 

And  the  perplexity  could  not  be  told 

Of  all  the  pillars  of  the  State,  which  leans 
Sometimes  a  little  heavy  on  the  backs 
Of  those  who  cannot  lay  on  a  new  tax. 

xcvn. 
Meantime  Gulbeyaz  when  her  King  was  gone, 

Retired  into  her  boudoir,  a  sweet  place 
For  love  or  breakfast ;  private,  pleasing,  lone, 

And  rich  with  all  contrivances  which  grace 
Those  gay  recesses : — many  a  precious  stone 

Sparkled  along  its  roof,  and  many  a  vase 
Of  porcelain  held  in  the  fettered  flowers, 
Those  captive  soothers  of  a  captive's  hours. 

XCVIII. 

Mother  of  pearl,  and  porphyry,  and  marble, 
Vied  with  each  other  on  this  costly  spot ; 

And  singing  birds  without  were  heard  to  warble  ; 
And  the  stained  glass  which  lighted  this  fair  grot 

Varied  each  ray ; — but  all  descriptions  garble 
The  true  effect,1  and  so  we  had  better  not 

Be  too  minute ;  an  outline  is  the  best, — 

A  lively  reader's  fancy  does  the  rest. 

xcix. 
And  here  she  summoned  Baba,  and  required 

Don  Juan  at  his  hands,  and  information 
Of  what  had  passed  since  all  the  slaves  retired, 

And  whether  he  had  occupied  their  station  : 
If  matters  had  been  managed  as  desired, 

And  his  disguise  with  due  consideration 

i.  [Aubry  de  la  Motraye,  in  describing  the  interior  of  the  Grand 
Signior's  palace,  into  which  he  gained  admission  as  the  assistant  of  a 
watchmaker  who  was  employed  to  regulate  the  clocks,  says  that  the 
eunuch  who  received  them  at  the  entrance  of  the  harem,  conducted 
them  into  a  hall:  "Cette  salle  est  incrustee  de  porcelaines  fines;  et 
le  lambris  dord  et  azur6  qui  orne  le  fond  d'une  coupole  qui  regne  au- 
dessus,  est  des  plus  riches.  .  .  .  Une  fontaine  artificielle  et  jaillissante, 
dont  le  bassin  est  d'un  prelieux  marbre  verd  qui  m'a  paru  serpentin  ou 
jaspe,  s'^levoit  directement  au  milieu,  sous  le  d6me.  .  .  .  Je  me  trouvai 
la  tSte  si  pleine  de  Sophas  de  pr^tieux  plafonds,  de  meubles  superbes, 
en  un  mot,  d'une  si  grande  confusion  de  mate'riaux  magnifiques,  .  .  . 
qu'il  seroit  difficile  d'en  donner  une  id6e  claire." — Voyages,  1727,  i. 
220,  222.] 


296  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

Kept  up ;  and  above  all,  the  where  and  how 

He  had  passed  the  night,  was  what  she  wished  to  know. 

c. 
Baba,  with  some  embarrassment,  replied 

To  this  long  catechism  of  questions,  asked 
More  easily  than  answered, — that  he  had  tried 

His  best  to  obey  in  what  he  had  been  tasked ; 
But  there  seemed  something  that  he  wished  to  hide, 

Which  Hesitation  more  betrayed  than  masked ; 
He  scratched  his  ear,  the  infallible  resource 
To  which  embarrassed  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. 

en. 
When  Baba  saw  these  symptoms,  which  he  knew 

To  bode  him  no  great  good,  he  deprecated 
Her  anger,  and  beseeched  she  'd  hear  him  through — 

He  could  not  help  the  thing  which  he  related  : 
Then  out  it  came  at  length,  that  to  Dudii 

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. 

cm. 
The  chief  dame  of  the  Oda,1  upon  whom 

The  discipline  of  the  whole  Harem  bore, 
As  soon  as  they  re-entered  their  own  room, 

For  Baba's  function  stopped  short  at  the  door, 
Had  settled  all ;  nor  could  he  then  presume 

(The  aforesaid  Baba)  just  then  to  do  more, 

i.  ["II  n'ya  point  de  Religieuses  .  .  .  point  de  novices,  plus 
soumises  a  la  volont6  de  leur  abbesse  que  ces  filles  [les  Odaliques]  le 
sont  a  leurs  maitresses." — A.  de  la  Motraye,  Voyages,  1727,  i.  338.] 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  297 

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  betrayed  himself ;  in  fact 
'T  was  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  sacked, 
And  thrown  into  the  sea. — Thus  Bab  a  spoke 
Of  all  save  Dudli's  dream,  which  was  no  joke. 

cv. 
This  he  discreetly  kept  in  the  back  ground, 

And  talked  away — and  might  have  talked  till  now, 
For  any  further  answer  that  he  found, 

So  deep  an  anguish  wrung  Gulbeyaz'  brow : 
Her  cheek  turned  ashes,  ears  rung,  brain  whirled  round, 

As  if  she  had  received  a  sudden  blow, 
And  the  heart's  dew  of  pain  sprang  fast  and  chilly 
O'er  her  fair  front,  like  Morning's  on  a  lily. 

CVI. 

Although  she  was  not  of  the  fainting  sort, 

Baba  thought  she  would  faint,  but  there  he  erred — 

It  was  but  a  convulsion,  which  though  short 
Can  never  be  described ;  we  all  have  heard,'- 

And  some  of  us  have  felt  thus  "  all  amort"  1 
When  things  beyond  the  common  have  occurred  ; — 

Gulbeyaz  proved  in  that  brief  agony 

What  she  could  ne'er  express — then  how  should  I  ? 

i.  though  seen  not  heard 

For  it  is  silent. — [MS.  A.  erased.} 

i.  ["  How  fares  my  Kate?  What !  sweeting,  all  amort?" — Taming 
of  the  Shrew,  act  iv.  sc.  3,  line  36.  "  Amort "  is  said  to  be  a  corrup- 
tion of  a  la  mort.  Byron  must  have  had  in  mind  his  silent  ecstasy  of 
grief  when  the  Countess  Guiccioli  endeavoured  to  break  the  announce- 
ment of  Allegra's  death  (April,  1822).  "  '  I  understand,'  said  he  ;  '  it  is 
enough  ;  say  no  more.'  A  mortal  paleness  spread  itself  over  his  face, 
his  strength  failed  him,  and  he  sunk  into  a  seat.  His  look  was  fixed, 
and  the  expression  such  that  I  began  to  fear  for  his  reason ;  he  did  not 
shed  a  tear  "  (Life,  p.  568).] 


298  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

cvn. 
She  stood  a  moment  as  a  Pythoness 

Stands  on  her  tripod,  agonized,  and  full 
Of  inspiration  gathered  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  bowed  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 

Stirred  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 

Concealed  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  colours  !  but  their  tints 
May  serve  perhaps  as  outlines  or  slight  hints. 

ex. 
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  cleared,  but  not  her  troubled  eye ; 
The  wind  was  down,  but  still  the  sea  ran  high. 

CXI. 

She  stopped,  and  raised  her  head  to  speak — but  paused 
And  then  moved  on  again  with  rapid  pace ; 


CANTO  VI.]  DON   JUAN.  299 

Then  slackened  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,  showed 

Their  work  even  by  the  way  in  which  he  trode.1 

CXII. 

Gulbeyaz  stopped  and  beckoned  Baba : — "  Slave ! 

Bring  the  two  slaves  ! "  she  said  in  a  low  tone, 
But  one  which  Baba  did  not  like  to  brave, 

And  yet  he  shuddered,  and  seemed  rather  prone 
To  prove  reluctant,  and  begged  leave  to  crave 

(Though  he  well  knew  the  meaning)  to  be  shown 
What  slaves  her  Highness  wished  to  indicate, 
For  fear  of  any  error,  like  the  late. 

CXIII. 

"  The  Georgian  and  her  paramour,"  replied 
The  Imperial  Bride — and  added,  "  Let  the  boat 

Be  ready  by  the  secret  portal's  side : 

You  know  the  rest."     The  words  stuck  in  her  throat, 

Despite  her  injured  love  and  fiery  pride ; 
And  of  this  Baba  willingly  took  note, 

And  begged  by  every  hair  of  Mahomef  s  beard, 

She  would  revoke  the  order  he  had  heard. 

cxiv. 
"  To  hear  is  to  obey,"  he  said ;  "  but  still, 

Sultana,  think  upon  the  consequence  : 
It  is  not  that  I  shall  not  all  fulfil 

Your  orders,  even  in  their  severest  sense  ; 
But  such  precipitation  may  end  ill, 

Even  at  your  own  imperative  expense  : 
I  do  not  mean  destruction  and  exposure, 
In  case  of  any  premature  disclosure ; 

i.  ["  His  guilty  soul,  at  enmity  with  gods  and  men,  could  find  no 
rest ;  so  violently  was  his  mind  torn  and  distracted  by  a  consciousness 
of  guilt.  Accordingly  his  countenance  was  pale,  his  eyes  ghastly,  his 
pace  one  while  quick,  another  slow[citus  modo,  modo  tardus  incessus]  ; 
indeed,  tin  all  his  looks  there  was  an  air  of  distraction." — Sallust, 
Catilina,  cap.  xv.  sf.] 


300  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi. 

cxv. 
"  But  your  own  feelings.     Even  should  all  the  rest 

Be  hidden  by  the  rolling  waves,  which  hide 
Already  many  a  once  love-beaten  breast 

Deep  in  the  caverns  of  the  deadly  tide — 
You  love  this  boyish,  new,  Seraglio  guest, 

And  if  this  violent  remedy  be  tried — 
Excuse  my  freedom,  when  I  here  assure  you, 
That  killing  him  is  not  the  way  to  cure  you." 

cxvi. 
"  What  dost  thou  know  of  Love  or  feeling  ? — Wretch  ! 

Begone  ! "  she  cried,  with  kindling  eyes — "  and  do 
My  bidding  ! "  Baba  vanished,  for  to  stretch 

His  own  remonstrance  further  he  well  knew 
Might  end  in  acting  as  his  own  "  Jack  Ketch ; " 

And  though  he  wished  extremely  to  get  through 
This  awkward  business  without  harm  to  others, 
He  still  preferred  his  own  neck  to  another's. 

ex  vi  i. 
Away  he  went  then  upon  his  commission, 

Growling  and  grumbling  in  good  Turkish  phrase 
Against  all  women  of  whate'er  condition, 

Especially  Sultanas  and  their  ways ; 
Their  obstinacy,  pride,  and  indecision, 

Their  never  knowing  their  own  mind  two  days, 
The  trouble  that  they  gave,  their  immorality, 
Which  made  him  daily  bless  his  own  neutrality. 

CXVIII. 

And  then  he  called  his  brethren  to  his  aid, 
And  sent  one  on  a  summons  to  the  pair, 

That  they  must  instantly  be  well  arrayed, 
And  above  all  be  combed  even  to  a  hair, 

And  brought  before  the  Empress,  who  had  made 
Inquiries  after  them  with  kindest  care  : 

At  which  Dudu  looked  strange,  and  Juan  silly ; 

But  go  they  must  at  once,  and  will  I — nill  I. 

cxix. 

And  here  I  leave  them  at  their  preparation 
For  the  imperial  presence,  wherein  whether 


CANTO  VI.]  DON    JUAN.  30! 

Gulbeyaz  showed  them  both  commiseration, 
Or  got  rid  of  the  parties  altogether, 

Like  other  angry  ladies  of  her  nation, — 
Are  things  the  turning  of  a  hair  or  feather 

May  settle ;  but  far  be  't  from  me  to  anticipate 

In  what  way  feminine  caprice  may  dissipate. 

cxx. 
I  leave  them  for  the  present  with  good  wishes, 

Though  doubts  of  their  well  doing,  to  arrange 
Another  part  of  History ;  for  the  dishes 

Of  this  our  banquet  we  must  sometimes  change ; 
And  trusting  Juan  may  escape  the  fishes, 

(Although  his  situation  now  seems  strange, 
And  scarce  secure), — as  such  digressions  are  fair, 
The  Muse  will  take  a  little  touch  at  warfare. 

End  of  Canto  6*''      1822. 


302  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 


CANTO   THE    SEVENTH.1 


i. 

O  LOVE  !  O  Glory  !  what  are  ye  who  fly 

Around  us  ever,  rarely  to  alight  ? 
There  's  not  a  meteor  in  the  polar  sky 

Of  such  transcendent  and  more  fleeting  flight. 
Chill,  and  chained  to  cold  earth,  we  lift  on  high 

Our  eyes  in  search  of  either  lovely  light ; 
A  thousand  and  a  thousand  colours  they 
Assume,  then  leave  us  on  our  freezing  way. 

ii. 
And  such  as  they  are,  such  my  present  tale  is, 

A  nondescript  and  ever-varying  rhyme, 
A  versified  Aurora  Borealis, 

Which  flashes  o'er  a  waste  and  icy  clime. 
When  we  know  what  all  are,  we  must  bewail  us, 

But  ne'ertheless  I  hope  it  is  no  crime 
To  laugh  at  all  things — for  I  wish  to  know 
What,  after  all,  are  all  things — but  a  show  1 

in. 

They  accuse  me — Me — the  present  writer  of 
The  present  poem — of — I  know  not  what — 

i.  ["These  [the  seventh  and  eighth]  Cantos  contain  a  full  detail  (like 
the  storm  in  Canto  Second)]  of  the  siege  and  assault  of  Ismael,  with 
much  of  sarcasm  on  those  butchers  in  large  business,  your  mercenary 
soldiery.  .  .  .  With  these  things  and  these  fellows  it  is  necessary,  in 
the  present  clash  of  philosophy  and  tyranny,  to  throw  away  the  scab- 
bard. I  know  it  is  against  fearful  odds ;  but  the  battle  must  be 
fought ;  and  it  will  be  eventually  for  the  good  of  mankind,  whatever  it 
may  be  for  the  individual  who  risks  himself." — Letter  to  Moore, 
August  8,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  101.] 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  303 

A  tendency  to  under-rate  and  scoff 

At  human  power  and  virtue,  and  all  that ; 1 

And  this  they  say  in  language  rather  rough. 
Good  God  !  I  wonder  what  they  would  be  at ! 

I  say  no  more  than  hath  been  said  in  Dante"s 

Verse,  and  by  Solomon  and  by  Cervantes ; 

IV. 

By  Swift,  by  Machiavel,  by  Rochefoucault, 

By  Fe'nelon,  by  Luther,  and  by  Plato ;  '• 
By  Tillotson,  and  Wesley,  and  Rousseau, 

Who  knew  this  life  was  not  worth  a  potato. 
'T  is  not  their  fault,  nor  mine,  if  this  be  so, — 

For  my  part,  I  pretend  not  to  be  Cato, 
Nor  even  Diogenes. — We  live  and  die, 
But  which  is  best,  you  know  no  more  than  I. 

v. 
Socrates  said,  our  only  knowledge  was  2 

"  To  know  that  nothing  could  be  known ; "  a  pleasant 
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." iL  3 

VI. 

Ecclesiastes  said,  "  that  all  is  vanity  " — 

Most  modern  preachers  say  the  same,  or  show  it 

i.   Of  Fenelon,  of  Calvin  and  of  Christ. — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.  Picking  a  pebble  on  the  shore  of  Truth. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Byron  attributes  this  phrase  to  Orator  Henley  (Letters,  1898,  i. 
227) ;  and  to  Bayes  in  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's  play,  The  Rehearsal 
(tetters,  1901,  v.  80).] 

2.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  II.  stanza  vii.  line  i,  Poetical 
Works,  ^899,  ii.  103,  note  2.J 

3.  ["Sir  Isaac  Newton,  a  little  before  he  died,  said,  'I  don't  know 
what  I  may  seem  to  the  world  ;  but,  as  to  myself,  I  seem  to  have  been 
only  like  a  boy  playing  on  the  sea  shore,  and  diverting  myself  in  now 
and  then  finding  a  smoother  pebble  or  a  prettier  shell  than  ordinary 
whilst  the  great  ocean  of  truth  lay  all  undiscovered  before  me.'" — 
Spence,  Anecdotes  (quoting  Chevalier  Ramsay),  1858,  p.  40.] 


304  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

By  their  examples  of  true  Christianity  : 

In  short,  all  know,  or  very  soon  may  know  it  ; 

And  in  this  scene  of  all-confessed  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  ?  '• 

VII. 

Dogs,  or  men  ! — for  I  flatter  you l  in  saying 
That  ye  are  dogs — your  betters  far — ye  may 

Read,  or  read  not,  what  I  am  now  essaying 
To  show  ye  what  ye  are  in  every  way. 

As  little  as  the  moon  stops  for  the  baying 

Of  wolves,  will  the  bright  Muse  withdraw  one  ray 

From  out  her  skies — then  howl  your  idle  wrath  ! 

While  she  still  silvers  o'er  your  gloomy  path. 

VIII. 

"  Fierce  loves  and  faithless  wars  " — I  am  not  sure 
If  this  be  the  right  reading — 't  is  no  matter ; 

The  fact 's  about  the  same,  I  am  secure ; 
I  sing  them  both,  and  am  about  to  batter     . 

A  town  which  did  a  famous  siege  endure, 
And  was  beleaguered  both  by  land  and  water 

By  Souvaroff,2  or  Anglice  Suwarrow, 

Who  loved  blood  as  an  alderman  loves  marrow. 

IX. 

The  fortress  is  called  Ismail,  and  is  placed 
Upon  the  Danube's  left  branch  and  left  bank,3 

With  buildings  in  the  Oriental  taste, 
But  still  a  fortress  of  the  foremost  rank, 

Or  was  at  least,  unless  't  is  since  defaced, 

Which  with  your  conquerors  is  a  common  prank : 

i.   From  fools  who  dread  to  know  the  truth  of  Life.— [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Compare   "Inscription  on  the  Monument  of  a  Newfoundland 
Dog,"  lines  7,  sq. ,  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  280.] 

2.  [Aleksandr  Vasilievitch  Suvoroff  (1729-1800)  opened  his  attack  on 
Ismail,  November  30,  1790.     His  forces,  including  Kossacks,  exceeded 
27,000  men. — Essai  sur  I  Histoire  Ancienne  et  Moderne  de  la  Noiruellc 
Russie,  par  le  Marquis  Gabriel  de  Castelnau,  1827,  ii.  201.] 

3.  ["  Ismael  est  situ6  sur  la  rive  gauche  du  bras  gauche  (i.e.  the 
ilia)  du  Danube." — Ibid.} 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  305 

It  stands  some  eighty  versts  from  the  high  sea, 
And  measures  round  of  toises  thousands  three.1 

x. 
Within  the  extent  of  this  fortification 

A  borough  is  comprised  along  the  height 
Upon  the  left,  which  from  its  loftier  station 

Commands  the  city,  and  upon  its  site 
A  Greek  had  raised  around  this  elevation 

A  quantity  of  palisades  upright, 
So  placed  as  to  impede  the  fire  of  those 
Who  held  the  place,  and  to  assist  the  foe's.2 

XI. 

This  circumstance  may  serve  to  give  a  notion 
Of  the  high  talents  of  this  new  Vauban  : 

But  the  town  ditch  below  was  deep  as  Ocean, 
The  rampart  higher  than  you  'd  wish  to  hang  : 

But  then  there  was  a  great  want  of  precaution 
(Prithee,  excuse  this  engineering  slang), 

Nor  work  advanced,  nor  covered  way  was  there,3 

To  hint,  at  least,  "  Here  is  no  thoroughfare." 

XII. 

But  a  stone  bastion,  with  a  narrow  gorge, 
And  walls  as  thick  as  most  skulls  born  as  yet ; 

Two  batteries,  cap-a-pie,  as  our  St.  George, 
Casemated 4  one,  and  t'other  "  a  barbette," 5 

1.  [ "a  peu  pres  a  quatre-vingts  verstes  de  la  mer  :  elle  a  pres  de 

trois  milles  toises  de  tour." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  201.] 

2.  ["On  a  compris  dans ces  fortifications  un  faubourg  moldave,  situ6 
a  la  gauche  de  la  ville,  sur  une  hauteur  qui  la  domine  :  1'ouvrage  a  6U: 
termine"  par  un  Grec.     Pour  donner  une  id6e  des  talens  de  cet  in- 
ge'nieur,  il  suffira  de  dire  qu'il  fit  placer  les  palissades  perpendiculaire- 
ment  sur  le  parapet,  de  maniere  qu'elles  favorisaient  les  assie'geans,  et 
arretaient  le  feu  des  assie'ge's." — Ibid.,  p.  202.] 

3.  [' '  Le  rempart  en  terre  est  prodigieusement  e"leve"  a  cause  de 
1' immense  profondeur  du  fosse'  ;   il  est  cependant  absolument  rasant : 
il  n'y  a  ni  ouvrage  avanc6,  ni  chemin  couvert." — Ibid.,  p.  202.] 

4.  [Casemate  is  a  work  made  under  the  rampart,  like  a  cellar  or 
cave,  with  loopholes  to  place  guns  in  it,  and  is  bomb  proof. — Milit. 
Diet.] 

5.  [When  the  breastwork  of  a  battery  is  only  of  such  height  that  the 
guns  may  fire  over  it  without  being  obliged  to  make  embrasures,  the 
guns  are  said  to  fire  in  barbet. — Ibid.] 

VOL.  VI.  X 


3°6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

Of  Danube's  bank  took  formidable  charge ; 

While  two-and-twenty  cannon  duly  set 
Rose  over  the  town's  right  side,  in  bristling  tier, 
Forty  feet  high,  upon  a  cavalier.1 

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 ;  2 
And  such  their  creed  was  till  they  were  invaded, 

When  it  grew  rather  late  to  set  things  right : 
But  as  the  Danube  could  not  well  be  waded, 

They  looked  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  Cossacque 

Who  were  immortal,  could  one  tell  their  story  ? 
Alas  !  what  to  their  memory  can  lack  ? 

Achilles'  self  was  not  more  grim  and  gory 
Than  thousands  of  this  new  and  polished  nation, 
Whose  names  want  nothing  but — pronunciation. 

xv. 

Still  I  '11  record  a  few,  if  but  to  increase 

Our  euphony :  there  was  Strongenoff,  and  Strokonoff, 
Meknop,  Serge  Lwow,  Arsdniew  of  modern  Greece, 

And  Tschitsshakoff,  and  Roguenoff,  and  Chokenoff,3 
And  others  of  twelve  consonants  apiece  ; 

And  more  might  be  found  out,  if  I  could  poke  enough 

1.  ["  Un  bastion  de  pierres,  ouvert  parune  gorge  tres-<Hroite,  et  dont 
les  murailles  son  fort  6paisses,  a  une  batterie  casemate'e  et  une  a  bar- 
bette ;  il  defend  la  rive  du  Danube.     Du  c6t6  droit  de  la  ville  est  un 
cavalier  de  quarante  pieds  d'eleVation  a  pic,  garni  de  vingt-deux  pieces 
de  canon,  et  qui  defend  la  partie  gauche." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie, 
ii.  202.] 

2.  ["  Du  cdte"  du  fleuve,  la  ville  est  absolument  ouverte  ;  les  Turcs 
ne  croyaient  pas  que  les  Russes  pussent  jamais  avoir  une  flotille  dans 
le  Danube." — Ibid.,  p.  203.] 

3.  [Meknop  [supposed  to  be  a  corruption  of  McNab],  etc.,  in  line 
three,  are  real  names  :  Strongenoff  stands  for  Strogonof,  Tschitsshakoff 
for  Tchitchagof,  and,  perhaps,  Chokenoff  for  Tchoglokof.] 


CANTO  VII.]  DON    JUAN.  307 

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  drawling  against  time, 

Ending  in  "  ischskin,"  "  ousckin,"  "  iffskchy,"  "  ouski," 

Of  whom  we  can  insert  but  Rousamouski,1 

xvn. 
Scherematoff  and  Chrematoff,  Koklophti, 

Koclobski,  Kourakin,  and  Mouskin  Pouskin, 
All  proper  men  of  weapons,  as  e'er  scoffed  high 2 

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 ; 

i.  these  discords  of  damnation. — [MS.  erased.} 

1.  ["La  premiere  attaque  £tait  compose'e  de  trois  colonnes,  com- 
mand^es  par  les  lieutenans-g£ne"raux  Paul  Potiemkin,  Serge  Lwow,  les 
g6neraux-majors  Maurice  Lascy,  Theodore  Meknop.  .  .  .  Trois  autres 
colonnes  .  .  .  avaient  pour  chefs  le  comte  de  Samo'ilow,  les  ge'ne'raux 
felie  de  Bezborodko,  Michel  Koutousow  ;  les  brigadiers  Orlow,  Platow, 
Ribaupierre.  ...  La  troisieme    attaque   par  eau   n'avait  que  deux 
colonnes,  sous  les  ordres  des  ge'ne'raux-majors  Ribas  et  Arse'niew,  des 
brigadiers  Markoffet  Tche'pe'ga,"  etc. — Hist,  de  la  Nonvelle  Rttssie,  ii. 
207. 

Compare — 

"  Oscharoffsky  and  Rostoffsky, 
And  all  the  others  that  end  in  -offsky. 

And  Kutousoff  he  cut  them  off,"  etc. 

Southey's  March  to  Moscow,  1813.] 

2.  [Count    Boris    Petrowitch   Scheremetov,    Russian    general,    died 
1819;    Prince  Alexis   Borisovitch   Kourakin   (1759-1829),    and  Count 
Alexis  Iwanowitch  Moussine-Pouschkine  (1744-1817)  were  distinguished 
statesmen  ;  Chrematoff  is,  perhaps,  a  rhyming  double  of  ScherematorT, 
and  Koklophti  "a  match-piece"  to  Koclobski.] 


308  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

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  called  Thomson,  and  nineteen  named  Smith. 

XIX. 

Jack  Thomson  and  Bill  Thomson ; — all  the  rest 
Had  been  called  "Jemmy"  after  the  great  bard ; 

I  don't  know  whether  they  had  arms  or  crest, 
But  such  a  godfather  's  as  good  a  card. 

Three  of  the  Smiths  were  Peters ;  but  the  best 
Amongst  them  all,  hard  blows  to  inflict  or  ward, 

Was  he,  since  so  renowned  "  in  country  quarters 

At  Halifax ; "  1  but  now  he  served  the  Tartars. 

xx. 

The  rest  were  Jacks  and  Gills  and  Wills  and  Bills, 
But  when  I  've  added  that  the  elder  Jack  Smith 

Was  born  in  Cumberland  among  the  hills, 
And  that  his  father  was  an  honest  blacksmith, 

I  Ve  said  all  /  know  of  a  name  that  fills 

Three  lines   of  the   despatch   in  taking   "  Schmack- 
smith," 

A  village  of  Moldavia's  waste,  wherein 

He  fell,  immortal  in  a  bulletin. 

XXI. 

I  wonder  (although  Mars  no  doubt 's  a  god  I 

Praise)  if  a  man's  name  in  a  bulletin 
May  make  up  for  a  bullet  in  his  body  ? 

I  hope  this  little  question  is  no  sin, 
Because,  though  I  am  but  a  simple  noddy, 

I  think  one  Shakespeare  puts  the  same  thought  in 

i.  [Captain  Smith,  in  the  song — 

"A  Captain  bold,  in  Halifax, 
That  dwelt  in  country  quarters, 
Seduc'd  a  maid  who  hang'd  herself 
One  Monday  in  her  garters." 

See  George  Colman's  farce,  Love  Laughs  at  Locksmiths,  1818,  p.  31.] 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  309 

The  mouth  of  some  one  in  his  plays  so  doting, 
Which  many  people  pass  for  wits  by  quoting.1 

XXII. 

Then  there  were  Frenchmen,  gallant,  young,  and  gay ; 

But  I  'm  too  great  a  patriot  to  record 
Their  Gallic  names  upon  a  glorious  day ; 

I  'd  rather  tell  ten  lies  than  say  a  word 
Of  truth ; — such  truths  are  treason ;  they  betray 

Their  country  ;  and  as  traitors  are  abhorred, 
Who  name  the  French  in  English,  save  to  show 
How  Peace  should  make  John  Bull  the  Frenchman's  foe. 

XXIII. 

The  Russians,  having  built  two  batteries  on 
An  isle  near  Ismail,  had  two  ends  in  view ; 

The  first  was  to  bombard  it,  and  knock  down 
The  public  buildings  and  the  private  too, 

No  matter  what  poor  souls  might  be  undone :  '• 
The  city's  shape  suggested  this,  't  is  true, 

Formed  like  an  amphitheatre — each  dwelling 

Presented  a  fine  mark  to  throw  a  shell  in.2 

XXIV. 

The  second  object  was  to  profit  by 

The  moment  of  the  general  consternation, 

To  attack  the  Turk's  flotilla,  which  lay  nigh 
Extremely  tranquil,  anchored  at  its  station  : 

But  a  third  motive  was  as  probably 
To  frighten  them  into  capitulation ; 3 

i.    The  Conquest  seemed  not  difficult . — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Compare — 

' '  While  to  my  shame  I  see 
The  imminent  death  of  twenty  thousand  men, 
That  for  a  fantasy  and  trick  of  fame 
Go  to  their  graves  like  beds." 

Hamlet,  act  iv.  sc.  4,  lines  56-59.] 

2.  ["  On  s'e'tait  propos6  deux  buts  e'galement  avantageux,  par  la  con- 
struction de  deux  batteries  sur  Vile  qui  avoisine  Ismael :  le  premier,  de 
bombarder  la  place,  d'en  abattre  les  principaux  Edifices  avec  du  canon 
de  quarante-huit,  effet  d'autant  plus  probable,  que  la  ville  £tant  bade 
en  amphitheatre,  presque  au9un  coup  ne  serait  perdu." — Hist,  de  la 
Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  203.] 

3.  ["  Le  second  objet  £tait  de  profiler  de  ce  moment  d'alarme  pour 


310  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

A  phantasy  which  sometimes  seizes  warriors, 
Unless  they  are  game  as  bull-dogs  and  fox-terriers.'- 

XXV. 

A  habit  rather  blameable,  which  is 

That  of  despising  those  we  combat  with, 

Common  in  many  cases,  was  in  this 
The  cause  *  of  killing  Tchitchitzkoff  and  Smith — 

One  of  the  valorous  "  Smiths  "  whom  we  shall  miss 
Out  of  those  nineteen  who  late  rhymed  to  "  pith ; " 

But 't  is  a  name  so  spread  o'er  "  Sir  "  and  "  Madam," 

That  one  would  think  the  first  who  bore  it  "  Adam" 

XXVI. 

The  Russian  batteries  were  incomplete, 

Because  they  were  constructed  in  a  hurry ; 2 

Thus  the  same  cause  which  makes  a  verse  want  feet, 
And  throws  a  cloud  o'er  Longman  and  John  Murray, 

When  the  sale  of  new  books  is  not  so  fleet 
As  they  who  print  them  think  is  necessary, 

May  likewise  put  off  for  a  time  what  story 

Sometimes  calls  "  Murder,"  and  at  others  "  Glory." 

XXVII. 

Whether  it  was  their  engineer's  stupidity, 

Their  haste  or  waste,  I  neither  know  nor  care, 

Or  some  contractor's  personal  cupidity, 
Saving  his  soul  by  cheating  in  the  ware 

i.   Unless  they  are  as  game  as  bull-dogs  or  even,  tarriers. 
or,  A  thing  which,  sometimes  hath  occurred  to  -warriors, 
Unless  they  happened  to  be  as  game  as  tarriers. — 

[MS.  A.    Alternative  reading.] 

Unless  they  are  Game  as  bull-dogs  or  even  terriers. — [A/S.  B.\ 
(Byron  erased  the  reading  of  MS.  B.  and  superscribed  the  reading 
of  the  text. ) 

que  la  flottille,  agissant  en  meme  temps,  put  de'truire  celle  des  Turcs. 
Un  troisieme  motif,  et  vraisemblablement  le  plus  plausible,  e^ail  de 
jeter  la  consternation  parmi  les  Turcs,  et  de  les  engager  4  capituler." — 
Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  203.] 

1.  ["  Une  habitude  blamable,  celle  de  me'priser  son  ennemi,  fut  la 
cause." — Ibid.,  p.  203.] 

2.  ["  .  .  .  du  deTaut  de  perfection  dans  la  construction  des  batteries  ; 
on  voulait  agir  promptement,  et  on  ne'gligea  de  donner  aux  ouvrages 
la  solidite'  qu'ils  exigaient." — Ibid. ,  p.  203.] 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  311 

Of  homicide,  but  there  was  no  solidity 
In  the  new  batteries  erected  there ; 
They  either  missed,  or  they  were  never  missed, 
And  added  greatly  to  the  missing  list. 

XXVIII. 

A  sad  miscalculation  about  distance 

Made  all  their  naval  matters  incorrect ; 
Three  fireships  lost  their  amiable  existence 

Before  they  reached  a  spot  to  take  effect ; 
The  match  was  lit  too  soon,  and  no  assistance 

Could  remedy  this  lubberly  defect ; 
They  blew  up  in  the  middle  of  the  river, 
While,  though  't  was  dawn,  the  Turks  slept  fast  as  ever.1 

XXIX. 

At  seven  they  rose,  however,  and  surveyed 

The  Russ  flotilla  getting  under  way ; 
'T  was  nine,  when  still  advancing  undismayed, 

Within  a  cable's  length  their  vessels  lay 
Off  Ismail,  and  commenced  a  cannonade, 

Which  was  returned  with  interest,  I  may  say, 
And  by  a  fire  of  musketry  and  grape, 
And  shells  and  shot  of  every  size  and  shape.2 

XXX. 

For  six  hours  bore  they  without  intermission 
The  Turkish  fire,  and,  aided  by  their  own 

Land  batteries,  worked  their  guns  with  great  precision ; 
At  length  they  found  mere  cannonade  alone 

By  no  means  would  produce  the  town's  submission, 
And  made  a  signal  to  retreat  at  one. 

One  bark  blew  up,  a  second  near  the  works 

Running  aground,  was  taken  by  the  Turks.3 

e  i.  ["  Le  mime  esprit  fit  manquer  1'effet  de  trois  brulots;  on  calcula 
mal  la  distance ;  on  se  pressa  d'allumer  la  meche,  ils  brulerent  au 
milieu  du  fleuve,  et  quoiqu'il  fut  six  heures  du  matin,  les  Turcs,  encore 
couches,  n'en  prirent  aucun  ombrage." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie, 
ii.  203.] 

2.  [' '  ier  Dec.  1790.     La  flottille  russe  s'avanca  vers  les  sept  heures ; 
il  en   e'tait   neuf  lorsqu'elle  se   trouva  a  cinquante  toises   de  la  ville 
[d'Ismael] :  elle  souffrit,  avec  une  constance  calme,  un  feu  de  mitraille 
et  de  mousqueterie.  .  .  ." — Ibid.,  p.  204.] 

3.  [" .  .  .  pres  de  six  heures  ...  les  batteries  de  terre  secondaient 


3i2  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vii. 

XXXI. 

The  Moslem,  too,  had  lost  both  ships  and  men ; 

But  when  they  saw  the  enemy  retire, 
Their  Delhis l  manned  some  boats,  and  sailed  again, 

And  galled  the  Russians  with  a  heavy  fire, 
And  tried  to  make  a  landing  on  the  main ; 

But  here  the  effect  fell  short  of  their  desire  : 
Count  Damas  drove  them  back  into  the  water 
Pell-mell,  and  with  a  whole  gazette  of  slaughter.2 

XXXII. 

"  If"  (says  the  historian  here)  "  I  could  report 
All  that  the  Russians  did  upon  this  day, 

I  think  that  several  volumes  would  fall  short, 
And  I  should  still  have  many  things  to  say ; "  3 

And  so  he  says  no  more — but  pays  his  court 
To  some  distinguished  strangers  in  that  fray ; 

The  Prince  de  Ligne,  and  Langeron,  and  Damas, 

Names  great  as  any  that  the  roll  of  Fame  has.4 

la  flottille ;  mais  on  reconnut  alors  que  les  canonnades  ne  suftiraient 
pas  pour  r&Iuire  la  place,  on  fit  la  retraite  a  une  heure.  Un  Ian9on 
sauta  pendant  1'action,  un  autre  d6riva  par  la  force  du  courant,  et  fut 
pris  par  1'ennemi." — Hist,  de  /a  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  204.] 

1.  [For  Delhis,  see  Poetical  Works,  1899,  ii.  149,  note  i.] 

2.  ["  Les  Turcs  perdirent  beaucoup  de  monde  et  plusieurs  vaisseaux. 
A  peine  la  retraite  des  Russes  fut-elle  remarque'e,  que  les  plus  braves 
d'entre  les  ennemis  se  jeterent  dans  de  petites  barques  et  essayerent  une 
descente  :  le  Comte  de  Damas  les;  mit  en  fuite,  et  leur  tua  plusieurs 
officiers  et  grand  nombre  de  soldats. " — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  p. 
204.] 

3.  [' '  On  ne  tarirait  pas  si  on  voulait  rapporter  tout  ce  que  les  Russes 
firent  de  memorable  dans  cette  journee ;    pour  center  les  hauls  fails 
d'armes,  pour  particulariser  toutes  les  actions  d'^clat,  il  faudrait  com- 
poser des  volumes." — Ibid.,  p.  204.] 

4.  ["  Parmi  les  Strangers,  le  prince  de  Ligne  se  distingua  de  maniere 
a  me'riter  1'estime   ge'ne'rale  ;    de  vrais  chevaliers  francais,  attire's  par 
1'amour  de  la  gloire,  se  montrerent  dignes  d'elle  :  les  plus  marquans 
e'taient  le  jeune  Due  de   Richelieu,  les  Comtes  de  [Langeron  et  de 
Damas." — Ibid.,  p.  204. 

Andrault,  Comte  de  Langeron,  born  at  Paris,  January  13,  1763,  on 
the  outbreak  of  the  Revolution  (1790)  took  service  in  the  Russian  Army. 
He  fought  against  the  Swedes  in  1790,  and  ihe  Turks  in  1791,  and, 
after  serving  as  a  volunteer  in  the  army  of  the  Duke  of  Brunswick 
(1792-93),  returned  to  Russia,  and  was  raised  to  the  rank  of  general 
in  1799.  He  commanded  a  division  of  the  Russian  Army  in  the  German 
campaign  of  1813,  and  entered  Paris  with  Blucher,  March  30,  1814. 
He  was  afterwards  Governor  of  Odessa  and  of  New  Russia ;  and, 
a  second  time,  fought  against  the  Turks  in  1828.  He  died  at  St. 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  313 

XXXIII. 

This  being  the  case,  may  show  us  what  Fame  is  : 
For  out  of  these  three  "preux  Chevaliers"  how 

Many  of  common  readers  give  a  guess 

That  such  existed  ?  (and  they  may  live  now 

For  aught  we  know.)     Renown  's  all  hit  or  miss ; 
There  's  fortune  even  in  Fame,  we  must  allow. 

'T  is  true,  the  Memoirs  of  the  Prince  de  Ligne J 

Have  half  withdrawn  from  him  Oblivion's  screen. 

xxxiv. 

But  here  are  men  who  fought  in  gallant  actions 

As  gallantly  as  ever  heroes  fought, 
But  buried  in  the  heap  of  such  transactions 

Their  names  are  rarely  found,  nor  often  sought. 
Thus  even  good  fame  may  suffer  sad  contractions, 

And  is  extinguished  sooner  than  she  ought : 
Of  all  our  modern  battles,  I  will  bet 
You  can't  repeat  nine  names  from  each  Gazette. 

xxxv. 
In  short,  this  last  attack,  though  rich  in  glory, 

Showed  that  somewhere,  somehow,  there  was  a  fault, 
And  Admiral  Ribas 2  (known  in  Russian  story) 

Most  strongly  recommended  an  assault ; 

Petersburg,  July  4,  1831.  Joseph  Elizabeth  Roger,  Comte  de  Damas 
d'Antigny,  born  at  Paris,  September  4,  1765,  owed  his  commission  in 
the  Russian  Army  to  the  influence  of  the  Prince  de  Ligne.  He  fought 
against  the  Turks  in  1787-88,  and  was  distinguished  for  bravery  and 
daring.  At  the  Restoration  in  1814  he  re-entered  the  French  Army, 
was  made  Governor  of  Lyons ;  shared  the  temporary  exile  of  Louis 
XVIII.  at  Ghent  in  1815,  and,  in  the  following  year,  as  commandant 
of  a  division,  took  part  in  repressing  the  revolutionary  disturbances  in 
the  central  and  southern  departments  of  France.  He  died  at  Cirey, 
September  3,  1823. — La  Grande  Encyclopedic.} 

1.  [Charles  Joseph,  Prince  de  Ligne,  was  born  at  Brussels,  May  12, 
1735.     In  1782  he  visited  St.    Petersburg  as  envoy  of  the  Emperor 
Joseph  II.,  won  Catherine's  favour,  and  was  appointed  Field  Marshal 
in  the  Russian  Army.     In  1788  he  was  sent  to  assist  Potemkin  at  the 
siege  of  Ochakof.     His  Melanges  Militaires,  etc.,  were  first  published 
in  1795.     He  died  in  November,  1814. 

Josef  de  Ribas  (1737-0.  1797).] 

2.  ["  L'Amiral  de  Ribas  .  .  .  d^clara,  en  plein  conseil,  que  ce  n'e'tait 
qu'en  donnant  1'assaut  qu'on  obtiendrait  la  place :  cet  avis  parut  hardi ; 
on  lui  opposa  mille  raisons,  auxquelles  il  r^pondit  par  de  meilleures." 
— Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  205.] 


314  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

In  which  he  was  opposed  by  young  and  hoary, 

Which  made  a  long  debate ;  but  I  must  halt, 
For  if  I  wrote  down  every  warrior's  speech, 
I  doubt  few  readers  e'er  would  mount  the  breach. 

xxxvi. 
There  was  a  man,  if  that  he  was  a  man, 

Not  that  his  manhood  could  be  called  in  question, 
For  had  he  not  been  Hercules,  his  span 

Had  been  as  short  in  youth  as  indigestion 
Made  his  last  illness,  when,  all  worn  and  wan, 

He  died  beneath  a  tree,  as  much  unblest  on 
The  soil  of  the  green  province  he  had  wasted, 
As  e'er  was  locust  on  the  land  it  blasted. 

xxxvn. 

This  was  Potemkin 1 — a  great  thing  in  days 
When  homicide  and  harlotry  made  great ; 

i.  [Prince  (Gregor  Alexandrovitch)  Potemkin,  born  1736,  died 
October  15,  1791.  "  He  alighted  from  his  carriage  in  the  midst  of 
the  highway,  threw  himself  on  the  grass,  and  died  under  a  tree  "  (Life 
of  Catherine  II.,  by  W.  Tooke,  1880,  iii.  324.  His  character  has 
been  drawn  by  Louis  Philippe,  Comte  de  S6gur,  who,  writes  Tooke 
(ibid.,  p.  326),  "lived  a  long  time  in  habits  of  intimacy  with  him, 
and  was  so  obliging  as  to  delineate  it  at  our  solicitation."  "In  his 
person  were  collected  the  most  opposite  defects  and  advantages  of  every 
kind.  He  was  avaricious  and  ostentatious,  .  .  .  haughty  and  obliging, 
politic  and  confiding,  licentious  and  superstitious,  bold  and  timid, 
ambitious  and  indiscreet ;  lavish  of  his  bounties  to  bis  relations,  his 
mistresses,  and  his  favourites,  yet  frequently  paying  neither  his  house- 
hold nor  his  creditors.  His  consequence  always  depended  on  a  woman, 
and  he  was  always  unfaithful  to  her.  Nothing  could  equal  the  activity 
of  his  mind,  nor  the  indolence  of  his  body.  No  dangers  could  appal 
his  courage ;  no  difficulties  force  him  to  abandon  his  projects.  But 
the  success  of  an  enterprise  always  brought  on  disgust.  .  .  .  Every- 
thing with  him  was  desultory ;  business,  pleasure,  temper,  carriage. 
His  presence  was  a  restraint  on  every  company.  He  was  morose  to 
all  that  stood  in  awe  of  him,  and  caressed  all  such  as  accosted  him 
with  familiarity.  .  .  .  None  had  read  less  than  he ;  few  people  were 
better  informed.  .  .  .  One  while  he  formed  the  project  of  becoming 
Duke  of  Courland ;  at  another  he  thought  of  bestowing  on  himself 
the  crown  of  Poland.  He  frequently  gave  intimations  of  an  intention 
to  make  himself  a  bishop,  or  even  a  simple  monk.  He  built  a  superb 
palace,  and  wanted  to  sell  it  before  it  was  finished.  In  his  youth  he 
had  pleased  her  [Catherine]  by  the  ardour  of  his  passion,  by  his  valour, 
and  by  his  masculine  beauty.  .  .  .  Become  the  rival  of  Orloff,  he 
performed  for  his  sovereign  whatever  the  most  romantic  passion  could 
inspire.  He  put  out  his  eye,  to  free  it  from  a  blemish  which  diminished 
his  beauty.  Banished  by  bis  rival,  he  ran  to  meet  death  in  battle,  and 
returned  with  glory."] 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  315 

If  stars  and  titles  could  entail  long  praise, 

His  glory  might  half  equal  his  estate. 
This  fellow,  being  six  foot  high,  could  raise 

A  kind  of  phantasy  proportionate 
In  the  then  Sovereign  of  the  Russian  people, 
Who  measured  men  as  you  would  do  a  steeple. 

XXXVIII. 

While  things  were  in  abeyance,  Ribas  sent 
A  courier  to  the  Prince,  and  he  succeeded 

In  ordering  matters  after  his  own  bent ; 
I  cannot  tell  the  way  in  which  he  pleaded, 

But  shortly  he  had  cause  to  be  content. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  batteries  proceeded, 

And  fourscore  cannon  on  the  Danube's  border 

Were  briskly  fired  and  answered  in  due  order.1 

XXXIX. 

But  on  the  thirteenth,  when  already  part 

Of  the  troops  were  embarked,  the  siegt  to  raise, 

A  courier  on  the  spur  inspired  new  heart 
Into  all  panters  for  newspaper  praise,1' 

As  well  as  dilettanti  in  War's  art, 

By  his  despatches  (couched  in  pithy  phrase) 

Announcing  the  appointment  of  that  lover  of 

Battles  to  the  command,  Field-Marshal  Souvaroff.'2 

XL. 
The  letter  of  the  Prince  to  the  same  Marshal 

Was  worthy  of  a  Spartan,  had  the  cause 
Been  one  to  which  a  good  heart  could  be  partial — 

Defence  of  freedom,  country,  or  of  laws ; 

i.  Into  all  aspirants  for  martial  praise. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  ["  Ce  projet,    remis  &  un  autre  jour,   dprouva  encore  les  plus 
grandes  difficulty's ;  son  courage  les  surmonta :  il  ne  s'agissait  que:  de 
determiner  le  Prince  Potiemkin  ;  il  y  rdussit.    Tandis  qu'il  se  de"menait 
pour  1' execution  de  projet  agre'e',  on  construisait  de  nouvelles  batteries  ; 
on  comptait,  le  12  de'cembre,  quatre-vingts  pieces  de  canon  sur  le  bord 
du  Danube,  et  cette  journe'e  se  passa  en  vives  canonnades. '  — Histoire 
de  la  Nouvelle  ftussie,  ii.  205.] 

2.  ["  Le  136,  une  partie  des  troupes  e"tait  embarque"e ;  on  allait  lever 
le  siege :  un  courrier  arrive.  .  .  .  Ce  courrier  annonce,  de  la  part  du 
prince,  que  le  mare'chal  Souwarow  va  prendre  le  commandement  des 
forces  re"unies  sous  Ismael." — Ibid.,  p.  205.] 


3i 6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vii. 

But  as  it  was  mere  lust  of  Power  to  o'er-arch  all 
With  its  proud  brow,  it  merits  slight  applause, 
Save  for  its  style,  which  said,  all  in  a  trice, 
"  You  will  take  Ismail  at  whatever  price." l 

XLI. 
"  Let  there  be  Light !  said  God,  and  there  was  Light ! " 

"  Let  there  be  Blood  !  "  says  man,  and  there  's  a  sea  ! 
The  fiat  of  this  spoiled  child  of  the  Night 

(For  Day  ne'er  saw  his  merits)  could  decree 
More  evil  in  an  hour,  than  thirty  bright 

Summers  could  renovate,  though  they  should  be 
Lovely  as  those  which  ripened  Eden's  fruit ; 
For  War  cuts  up  not  only  branch,  but  root. 

XLII. 
Our  friends,  the  Turks,  who  with  loud  "  Allahs  "  now 

Began  to  signalise  the  Russ  retreat,2 
Were  damnably  mistaken ;  few  are  slow 

In  thinking  that  their  enemy  is  beat,3 
(Or  beaten^  if  you  insist  on  grammar,  though 

I  never  think  about  it  in  a  heat,) 
But  here  I  say  the  Turks  were  much  mistaken, 
Who  hating  hogs,  yet  wished  to  save  their  bacon. 

XLIII. 
For,  on  the  sixteenth,  at  full  gallop,  drew 

In  sight  two  horsemen,  who  were  deemed  Cossacques 
For  some  time,  till  they  came  in  nearer  view : 

They  had  but  little  baggage  at  their  backs, 
For  there  were  but  three  shirts  between  the  two ; 

But  on  they  rode  upon  two  Ukraine  hacks, 
Till,  in  approaching,  were  at  length  descried 
In  this  plain  pair,  Suwarrow  and  his  guide.4 

1.  ["  La  lettredu  Prince  Potiemkin  &  Souwarow  est  trescourte  ;  elle 
peint  le  caractere  de  ces  deux  personnages.     La  voici  dans  toute  sa 
teneur  :  '  Vous  pre ndrez  Ismael  a  quel  prix  que  ce  soit !'  " — Hist,  de  la 
Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  205.] 

2.  ["  [Le  courrier]  est  te'moin  des  cris  de  joie  du  Turc,  qui  se  croyait 
a  la  fin  de  ses  maux. " — Ibid. ,  p.  205.] 

3.  ["  Beat,"  as  in  "  dead-beat,"  is  occasionally  used  for  "  beaten." — 
See  N.  E.  D.,  art.  "  Beat,"  10.] 

4.  ["  Le  i6e,  on  voit  venir  de  loin  deux  hommes   courant  a  toute 
bride  :  on  les  prit  pour  des  Kozaks ;   1'un  6tait  Souwarow,  et  1'autre 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  31? 

XLIV. 

"  Great  joy  to  London  now  !  "  says  some  great  fool, 
When  London  had  a  grand  illumination, 

Which  to  that  bottle-conjuror,  John  Bull, 
Is  of  all  dreams  the  first  hallucination ; 

So  that  the  streets  of  coloured  lamps  are  full, 
That  sage  (said  John)  surrenders  at  discretion  '• 

His  purse,  his  soul,  his  sense,  and  even  his  nonsense, 

To  gratify,  like  a  huge  moth,  this  one  sense. 

XLV. 
'T  is  strange  that  he  should  further  "  Damn  his  eyes," 

For  they  are  damned ;  that  once  all-famous  oath 
Is  to  the  Devil  now  no  further  prize, 

Since  John  has  lately  lost  the  use  of  both. 
Debt  he  calls  Wealth,  and  taxes  Paradise ; 

And  Famine,  with  her  gaunt  and  bony  growth, 

i.   That  sage  John  Bull .— [MS.] 

That  fool  John  Bull . — [MS.  erased.] 

son  guide,  portant  un  paquet  gros  comme  le  poing,  et  renfennant  le 
bagage  du  ge'ne'ral." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  205. 

M.  de  Castelnau  in  his  description  of  the  arrival  of  Suvoroff  on  the 
field  of  battle  (Hist,  de  la  N.  R.,  1827,  ii.  pp,  205,  206)  summarizes 
the  Journal  of  the  Due  de  Richelieu.  The  original  passage  runs  as 
follows  : — 

"  L'arrive'e  du  comte  Souvorow  produisit  un  grand  effet  parmi  les 
troupes.  .  .  .  La  maniere  d'etre  plus  que  simple,  puis-qu'il  logeait 
sous  une  canonniere,  et  qu'il  n'avait  pas  m6me  de  chaises  dans  sa  tente, 
son  affabilit6,  sa  bonhomie  lui  conciliaient  1'affection  de  tous  les 
individus  de  son  arme'e.  Get  homme  singulier  qui  ressemble  plus  a  un 
chef  de  cosaques  ou  de  Tartares,  qu'au  ge'ne'ral  d'une  arme'e  europe'enne, 
est  doue'  d'une  intre'pidite'  et  d'une  hardiesse  peu  communes.  ...  La 
maniere  de  vivre,  de  s'habiller  et  de  parler  du  comte  Souvorow,  est 
aussi  singuliere  que  ses  opinions  militaires.  ...  II  mangeait  dans  sa  tente 
assis  par  terre  autour  d'une  natte  sur  laquelle  il  prenait  le  plus  de'test- 
able  repas.  L'apres-midi,  un  semblable  repas  lui  servait  de  souper,  il 
s'endormait  ensuite  pendant  quelques  heures,  passait  une  partie  de  la 
nuit  a  chanter,  et  a  la  pointe  du  jour  il  sortait  presque  nu  et  se  roulait 
sur  1'herbe  assurant  que  cet  exercice  lui  e"tait  ne"cessaire  pour  le  preserver 
des  rhumatismes.  .  .  .  Sa  maniere  de  s'exprimer  dans  toutes  les  langues 
est  aussi  singuliere  que  toute  sa  fa^on  d'etre,  ses  phrases  sont  inco- 
he'rentes,  et  s'il  n'est  pas  insense",  il  dit  et  fait  du  moins  tout  ce  qu'il 
faut  pour  le  paraitre ;  mais  il  est  heureux  et  cette  qualite'  dont  le 
Cardinal  Mazarin  faisait  tant  de  cas,  est,  a  bon  droit,  fort  estime'e  de 
rimpe'ratrice  et  du  Prince  Potemkin  .  .  .  Le  moment  de  1'arrive'e  du 
Comte  Souvorow  fut  annonce"  par  une  d^charge  ge'ne'rale  des  batteries 
ou  camp  et  de  la  flotte." — Journal  de  man  Voyage  en  Allemagne,  Soc. 
Imp.  d  Hist  de  Russie,  1886,  torn.  liv.  pp.  168,  169.] 


318  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

Which  stare  him  in  the  face,  he  won't  examine, 
Or  swears  that  Ceres  hath  begotten  Famine. 

XLVI. 
But  to  the  tale  ; — great  joy  unto  the  camp  ! 

To  Russian,  Tartar,  English,  French,  Cossacque, 
O'er  whom  Suwarrow  shone  like  a  gas  lamp, 

Presaging  a  most  luminous  attack  ; 
Or  like  a  wisp  along  the  marsh  so  damp, 

Which  leads  beholders  on  a  boggy  walk, 
He  flitted  to  and  fro  a  dancing  light, 
Which  all  who  saw  it  followed,  wrong  or  right. 

XL  VI  I. 

But,  certes,  matters  took  a  different  face ; 

There  was  enthusiasm  and  much  applause, 
The  fleet  and  camp  saluted  with  great  grace, 

And  all  presaged  good  fortune  to  their  cause. 
Within  a  cannot-shot  length  of  the  place 

They  drew,  constructed  ladders,  repaired  flaws 
In  former  works,  made  new,  prepared  fascines, 
And  all  kinds  of  benevolent  machines. 

XLVIII. 
'T  is  thus  the  spirit  of  a  single  mind 

Makes  that  of  multitudes  take  one  direction, 
As  roll  the  waters  to  the  breathing  wind, 

Or  roams  the  herd  beneath  the  bull's  protection ; 
Or  as  a  little  dog  will  lead  the  blind, 

Or  a  bell-wether  form  the  flock's  connection 
By  tinkling  sounds,  when  they  go  forth  to  victual ; 
Such  is  the  sway  of  your  great  men  o'er  little. 

XLIX. 

The  whole  camp  rung  with  joy ;  you  would  have  thought 
That  they  were  going  to  a  marriage  feast 

(This  metaphor,  I  think,  holds  good  as  aught, 
Since  there  is  discord  after  both  at  least)  : 

There  was  not  now  a  luggage  boy  but  sought 
Danger  and  spoil  with  ardour  much  increased ; 

And  why  ?  because  a  little — odd — old  man, 

Stripped  to  his  shirt,  was  come  to  lead  the  van. 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  319 

L. 

But  so  it  was  ;  and  every  preparation 
Was  made  with  all  alacrity :  the  first 

Detachment  of  three  columns  took  its  station, 
And  waited  but  the  signal's  voice  to  burst 

Upon  the  foe  :  the  second's  ordination 
Was  also  in  three  columns,  with  a  thirst 

For  Glory  gaping  o'er  a  sea  of  Slaughter  : 

The  third,  in  columns  two,  attacked  by  water.1 

LI. 

New  batteries  were  erected,  and  was  held 
A  general  council,  in  which  Unanimity, 

That  stranger  to  most  councils,  here  prevailed,2 
As  sometimes  happens  in  a  great  extremity ;  '• 

And  every  difficulty  being  dispelled, 

Glory  began  to  dawn  with  due  sublimity,"- 

While  Souvaroff,  determined  to  obtain  it, 

Was  teaching  his  recruits  to  use  the  bayonet.3 

LII. 

It  is  an  actual  fact,  that  he,  commander 
In  chief,  in  proper  person  deigned  to  drill 

The  awkward  squad,  and  could  afford  to  squander 
His  time,  a  corporal's  duty  to  fulfil ; 

Just  as  you'd  break  a  sucking  salamander 
To  swallow  flame,  and  never  take  it  ill : '" 

He  showed  them  how  to  mount  a  ladder  (which 

Was  not  like  Jacob's)  or  to  cross  a  ditch.4 

i.  For  once  by  some  odd  sort  of  magnanimity. — [MS.  erased.} 
ii.  Bellona  shook  her  spear  with  much  sublimity, — [MS.  erased.} 
iii.  and  neither  swerve  nor  spill.— [MS.  erased.} 

1.  ["  La  premiere  attaque  £tait  compose'e  de  trois  colonnes  .  .  .  Trois 
autres  colonnes,  destinies  a  la  seconde  attaque,  avaient  pour  chefs,  etc. 
.  .  .  La  troisieme  attaque  par  eau  n'avait  que  deux  colonnes." — Hist, 
de  la  Noitvelle  Russie,  ii.  207.] 

2.  ["On  construisit  de  nouvelles  batteries  le  i8e.  .  .  .  On  tint  un 
conseil  de  guerre,  on  y  examina  les  plans  pour  1'assaut  proposes  par 
M.  de  Ribas,  ils  re'unirent  tous  les  souffrages." — Ibid.,  p.  208.] 

3.  Fact :  Suwaroff  did  this  in  person. 

4.  ["  Le  ig6  et  le  20^,  Souwarow  exer9a|les  soldats  ;  il  leur  montra 
comrtient  il  fallait  s'y  prendre  pour  escalader  ;  il  enseigna  aux  recrues 
la  maniere  de  donner  le  coup  de  ba'ionette." — Ibid.,  p.  208.] 


320  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

LIII. 

Also  he  dressed  up,  for  the  nonce,  fascines 
Like  men  with  turbans,  scimitars,  and  dirks, 

And  made  them  charge  with  bayonet  these  machines, 
By  way  of  lesson  against  actual  Turks  ; l 

And  when  well  practised  in  these  mimic  scenes, 
He  judged  them  proper  to  assail  the  works, — 

(At  which  your  wise  men  sneered  in  phrases  witty)/ 

He  made  no  answer — but  he  took  the  city. 

LIV. 
Most  things  were  in  this  posture  on  the  eve 

Of  the  assault,  and  all  the  camp  was  in 
A  stern  repose  ;  which  you  would  scarce  conceive ; 

Yet  men  resolved  to  dash  through  thick  and  thin 
Are  very  silent  when  they  once  believe 

That  all  is  settled  : — there  was  little  din, 
For  some  were  thinking  of  their  home  and  friends, 
And  others  of  themselves  and  latter  ends."' 

LV. 
Suwarrow  chiefly  was  on  the  alert, 

Surveying,  drilling,  ordering,  jesting,  pondering  ; 
For  the  man  was,  we  safely  may  assert, 

A  thing  to  wonder  at  beyond  most  wondering ; 
Hero,  buffoon,  half-demon,  and  half-dirt, 

Praying,  instructing,  desolating,  plundering — 
Now  Mars,  now  Momus — and  when  bent  to  storm 
A  fortress,  Harlequin  in  uniform.2 

i.  At  which  your  wise  men  laughed,  but  all  their  Wit  is 
Lost,  for  his  repartee  was  taking  cities. — [MS.  erased,] 
ii.  For  some  were  thinking  of  their  wives  and  families. 
And  others  of  themselves  (as  poet  Samuel  is). — 

[MS.    Alternative  reading.} 
And  others  of  themselves  (as  my  friend  Samuel  is). — [MS.  erased.} 

1.  ["  Pour  ces  exercices  d'un  nouveau  genre,  il  se  servit  de  fascines 
disposers  de  maniere  a  repr6senter  un  Turc." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle 
Russie,  ii.  208.] 

2.  [For  a  detailed  account  of  Suv6roff  s  personal  characteristics,  see 
The  Life  of  Field-Marshal  Souvarof,  by  L.    M.    P.   Tranchant   de 
I^averne,  1814,  pp.  267-291  ;  and  Suvdroff,  by  Lieut.-Colonel  Spalding, 
1890,  pp.  222-229. 

Byron's  epithet  "buffoon"  (line  5)  may,  perhaps,  be  traced  to  the 


CANTO  VII.] 


DON    JUAN. 


321 


LVI. 

The  day  before  the  assault,  while  upon  drill — 
For  this  great  conqueror  played  the  corporal — 

Some  Cossacques,  hovering  like  hawks  round  a  hill, 
Had  met  a  party  towards  the  Twilight's  fall, 

One  of  whom  spoke  their  tongue — or  well  or  ill, 
'T  was  much  that  he  was  understood  at  all ; 

But  whether  from  his  voice,  or  speech,  or  manner, 

They  found  that  he  had  fought  beneath  their  banner. 

LVII. 
Whereon  immediately  at  his  request 

They  brought  him  and  his  comrades  to  head-quarters  ; 
Their  dress  was  Moslem,  but  you  might  have  guessed 

That  these  were  merely  masquerading  Tartars, 
And  that  beneath  each  Turkish-fashioned  vest 

Lurked  Christianity — which  sometimes  barters 
Her  inward  grace  for  outward  show,  and  makes 
It  difficult  to  shun  some  strange  mistakes. 

following  anecdote  recorded  by  Tranchant  de  Laverne  (p.  281) :  "  Dur- 
ing the  first  war  of  Poland  ...  he  published,  in  the  order  of  the  day, 
that  at  the  first  crowing  of  the  cock  the  troops  would  march  to  attack 
the  enemy,  and  caused  the  spy  to  send  word  that  the  Russians  would 
be  upon  them  some  time  after  midnight.  But  about  eight  o'clock 
Souvarof  ran  through  the  camp,  imitating  the  crowing  of  a  cock.  .  .  . 
The  enemy,  completely  surprised,  lost  a  great  number  of  men." 

For  his  "  praying  "  (line  6),  vide  ibid.,  pp.  272,  273  :  "  He  made  a 
short  prayer  after  each  meal,  and  again  when  going  to  bed.  He 
usually  performed  his  devotions  before  an  image  of  St.  Nicholas,  the 
patron  saint  of  Russia." 

"  Half-dirt"  (line  5)  is,  however,  a  calumny  (ibid.  p.  272) :  "It  was 
his  custom  to  rise  at  the  earliest  dawn  ;  several  buckets  of  cold  water 
were  thrown  over  his  naked  body." 

The  same  writer  (p.  268)  repudiates  the  charges  of  excessive  barbarity 
and  cruelty  brought  against  Suv6roff  by  C.  F.  P.  Masson,  in  his 
Mtmoires  Secrets  sur  la  Russie(vide,  e.g. ,  ed.  1800, i.  311):  "Souvorowne 
scroit  que  le  plus  ridicule  bouffon,  s'il  n'eioit  pas  montrele  plus  barbare 
guerrier.  C'est  un  monstre,  qui  renferme  dans  le  corps  d'un  singe 
I'&me  d'un  chien  de  boucher.  Attila,  son  compatriote,  et  dont  il 
descend,  peut-etre  ne  fut  ni  si  heureux,  ni  si  feYoce." 

Suv6roff  did  not  regard  himself  as  "half-demon."  "Your  pencil," 
he  reminded  the  artist  Miiller,  "  will  delineate  the  features  of  my  face. 
These  are  visible  :  but  my  inner  man  is  hidden.  I  must  tell  you  that  I 
have  shed  rivers  of  blood.  I  tremble,  but  I  love  my  neighbour.  In 
my  whole  life  I  have  made  no  one  unhappy  ;  not  an  insect  hath  perished 
by  my  hand.  I  was  little ;  I  was  big.  In  fortune's  ebb  and  flow, 
relying  on  God,  I  stood  immovable — even  as  now."  (Suvdroff,  1890, 
p.  228,  note.)] 

VOL.   VI.  Y 


322  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

LVIII. 

Suwarrow,  who  was  standing  in  his  shirt 

Before  a  company  of  Calmucks,  drilling, 
Exclaiming,  fooling,  swearing  at  the  inert, 

And  lecturing  on  the  noble  art  of  killing, — 
For  deeming  human  clay  but  common  dirt 

This  great  philosopher  was  thus  instilling 
His  maxims,1  which  to  martial  comprehension 
Proved  death  in  battle  equal  to  a  pension  ; — 

LIX. 
Suwarrow,  when  he  saw  this  company 

Of  Cossacques  and  their  prey,  turned  round  and  cast 
Upon  them  his  slow  brow  and  piercing  eye  : — 

"  Whence  come  ye  ?  " — "  From  Constantinople  last, 
Captives  just  now  escaped,"  was  the  reply. 

"  What  are  ye  ?  " — "  What  you  see  us."     Briefly  passed 
This  dialogue ;  for  he  who  answered  knew 
To  whom  he  spoke,  and  made  his  words  but  few. 

LX. 

"  Your  names  ?  " — "  Mine 's  Johnson,  and  my  comrade 's 
Juan; 

The  other  two  are  women,  and  the  third 
Is  neither  man  nor  woman."     The  Chief  threw  on 

The  party  a  slight  glance,  then  said,  "  I  have  heard 
Your  name  before,  the  second  is  a  new  one  : 

To  bring  the  other  three  here  was  absurd  : 
But  let  that  pass  : — I  think  I  have  heard  your  name 
In  the  Nikolaiew  regiment  ?  " — "  The  same." 

LXI. 

"You    served    at  Widdin ? "— " Yes."— " You   led  the 

attack  ?  " 

"  I  did."—"  What  next?  "— "  I  really  hardly  know  "— 
"  You  were  the  first  i'  the  breach  ?  " — "  I  was  not  slack 
At  least  to  follow  those  who  might  be  so  " — 

i.  [See,  for  instance,  The  Storm,  in  "  Souvarof  s  Catechism," 
Appendix  (pp.  299-305)  to  the  Life,  etc. ,  by  Tranchant  de  Laverne,  1814 : 
' '  Break  down  the  fence.  .  .  .  Fly  over  the  walls !  Stab  them  on  the 
ramparts  !  .  .  .  Fire  down  the  streets !  Fire  briskly  !  .  .  .  Kill  every 
enemy  in  the  streets !  Let  the  cavalry  hack  them  !  "  etc.] 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  323 

"  What  followed  ?  " — "  A  shot  laid  me  on  my  back, 

And  I  became  a  prisoner  to  the  foe  " — 
"  You  shall  have  vengeance,  for  the  town  surrounded 
Is  twice  as  strong  as  that  where  you  were  wounded. 

LXII. 

"  Where  will  you  serve  ?  " — "  Where'er  you  please." — "  I 
know 

You  like  to  be  the  hope  of  the  forlorn, 
And  doubtless  would  be  foremost  on  the  foe 

After  the  hardships  you  've  already  borne. 
And  this  young  fellow — say  what  can  he  do  ? 

He  with  the  beardless  chin  and  garments  torn  ?  " — 
"  Why,  General,  if  he  hath  no  greater  fault 
In  War  than  Love,  he  had  better  lead  the  assault " — 

LXIII. 
"  He  shall  if  that  he  dare."     Here  Juan  bowed 

Low  as  the  compliment  deserved.     Suwarrow 
Continued :  "  Your  old  regiment 's  allowed, 

By  special  providence,  to  lead  to-morrow, 
Or,  it  may  be,  to-night,  the  assault :  I  have  vowed 

To  several  Saints,  that  shortly  plough  or  harrow 
Shall  pass  o'er  what  was  Ismail,  and  its  tusk l 
Be  unimpeded  by  the  proudest  mosque. 

LXIV. 
"  So  now,  my  lads,  for  Glory  !  " — Here  he  turned 

And  drilled  away  in  the  most  classic  Russian, 
Until  each  high  heroic  bosom  burned 

For  cash  and  conquest,  as  if  from  a  cushion 
A  preacher  had  held  forth  (who  nobly  spurned 

All  earthly  goods  save  tithes)  and  bade  them  push  on 
To  slay  the  Pagans  who  resisted,  battering 
The  armies  of  the  Christian  Empress  Catherine. 

LXV. 
Johnson,  who  knew  by  this  long  colloquy 

Himself  a  favourite,  ventured  to  address 
Suwarrow,  though  engaged  with  accents  high 

In  his  resumed  amusement.     "  I  confess 

i.  [The  "tusk"  of  the  plough  is  the  coulter  or  share.     Compare 
"  Dens  vomeris  "  (Virg.,  Georg.,  i.  22).] 


324  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

My  debt  in  being  thus  allowed  to  die 

Among  the  foremost ;  but  if  you  'd  express 
Explicitly  our  several  posts,  my  friend 
And  self  would  know  what  duty  to  attend." 

LXVI. 
"  Right !  I  was  busy,  and  forgot.     Why,  you 

Will  join  your  former  regiment,  which  should  be 
Now  under  arms.     Ho  !  Katskoff,  take  him  to  " — • 

(Here  he  called  up  a  Polish  orderly) 
"  His  post,  I  mean  the  regiment  Nikolaiew : 

The  stranger  stripling  may  remain  with  me ; 
He  's  a  fine  boy.     The  women  may  be  sent 
To  the  other  baggage,  or  to  the  sick  tent." 

LXVII. 
But  here  a  sort  of  scene  began  to  ensue  : 

The  ladies, — who  by  no  means  had  been  bred 
To  be  disposed  of  in  a  way  so  new, 

Although  their  Harem  education  led, 
Doubtless,  to  that  of  doctrines  the  most  true, 

Passive  obedience, — now  raised  up  the  head 
With  flashing  eyes  and  starting  tears,  and  flung 
Their  arms,  as  hens  their  wings  about  their  young, 

LXVIII. 

O'er  the  promoted  couple  of  brave  men 

Who  were  thus  honoured  by  the  greatest  Chief 

That  ever  peopled  Hell  with  heroes  slain, 
Or  plunged  a  province  or  a  realm  in  grief. 

Oh,  foolish  mortals  !  Always  taught  in  vain  ! 
Oh,  glorious  Laurel !  since  for  one  sole  leaf 

Of  thine  imaginary  deathless  tree, 

Of  blood  and  tears  must  flow  the  unebbing  sea.i- 

LXIX. 
Suwarrow,  who  had  small  regard  for  tears, 

And  not  much  sympathy  for  blood,  surveyed 
The  women  with  their  hair  about  their  ears 

And  natural  agonies,  with  a  slight  shade 

i.   Of  thine  imaginary  deathless  bough 

The  -unebbing  sea  of  blood  and  tears  must  flow. — [MS.  erased^ 


CANTO  VII.]  DON   JUAN.  325 

Of  feeling  :  for  however  Habit  sears 

Men's  hearts  against  whole  millions,  when  their  trade 
Is  butchery,  sometimes  a  single  sorrow 
Will  touch  even  heroes — and  such  was  Suwarrow. 

LXX. 

He  said, — and  in  the  kindest  Calmuck  tone, — 
"  Why,  Johnson,  what  the  devil  do  you  mean 

By  bringing  women  here  ?     They  shall  be  shown 
All  the  attention  possible,  and  seen 

In  safety  to  the  waggons,  where  alone 

In  fact  they  can  be  safe.     You  should  have  been 

Aware  this  kind  of  baggage  never  thrives ; 

Save  wed  a  year,  I  hate  recruits  with  wives  " — 

LXXI. 
"  May  it  please  your  Excellency,"  thus  replied 

Our  British  friend,  "  these  are  the  wives  of  others, 
And  not  our  own.     I  am  too  qualified 

By  service  with  my  military  brothers 
To  break  the  rules  by  bringing  one's  own  bride 

Into  a  camp :  I  know  that  nought  so  bothers 
The  hearts  of  the  heroic  on  a  charge, 
As  leaving  a  small  family  at  large. 

LXXII. 
"  But  these  are  but  two  Turkish  ladies,  who 

With  their  attendant  aided  our  escape, 
And  afterwards  accompanied  us  through 

A  thousand  perils  in  this  dubious  shape. 
To  me  this  kind  of  life  is  not  so  new ; 

To  them,  poor  things,  it  is  an  awkward  scrape  : 
I  therefore,  if  you  wish  me  to  fight  freely, 
Request  that  they  may  both  be  used  genteelly." 

LXXIII. 

Meantime  these  two  poor  girls,  with  swimming  eyes, 
Looked  on  as  if  in  doubt  if  they  could  trust 

Their  own  protectors ;  nor  was  their  surprise 
Less  than  their  grief  (and  truly  not  less  just) 

To  see  an  old  man,  rather  wild  than  wise 
In  aspect,  plainly  clad,  besmeared  with  dust, 


326  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

Stripped  to  his  waistcoat,  and  that  not  too  clean, 
More  feared  than  all  the  Sultans  ever  seen. 

LXX1V. 

For  everything  seemed  resting  on  his  nod, 
As  they  could  read  in  all  eyes.     Now  to  them, 

Who  were  accustomed,  as  a  sort  of  god, 
To  see  the  Sultan,  rich  in  many  a  gem, 

Like  an  imperial  peacock  stalk  abroad 
(That  royal  bird,  whose  tail 's  a  diadem,) 

With  all  the  pomp  of  Power,  it  was  a  doubt 

How  Power  could  condescend  to  do  without. 

LXXV. 
John  Johnson,  seeing  their  extreme  dismay, 

Though  little  versed  in  feelings  oriental, 
Suggested  some  slight  comfort  in  his  way : 

Don  Juan,  who  was  much  more  sentimental, 
Swore  they  should  see  him  by  the  dawn  of  day, 

Or  that  the  Russian  army  should  repent  all : 
And,  strange  to  say,  they  found  some  consolation 
In  this — for  females  like  exaggeration. 

LXXVI. 
And  then  with  tears,  and  sighs,  and  some  slight  kisses, 

They  parted  for  the  present — these  to  await, 
According  to  the  artillery's  hits  or  misses, 

What  sages  call  Chance,  Providence,  or  Fate — 
(Uncertainty  is  one  of  many  blisses, 

A  mortgage  on  Humanity's  estate ;) — L 
While  their  belove'd  friends  began  to  arm, 
To  burn  a  town  which  never  did  them  harm. 

LXXVII. 
Suwarrow, — who  but  saw  things  in  the  gross. 

Being  much  too  gross  to  see  them  in  detail, 
Who  calculated  life  as  so  much  dross, 

And  as  the  wind  a  widowed  nation's  wail, 
And  cared  as  little  for  his  army's  loss 

(So  that  their  efforts  should  at  length  prevail) 
As  wife  and  friends  did  for  the  boils  of  Job, — 
What  was  't  to  him  to  hear  two  women  sob  ? 

i.  Entailed  upon  Humanity  s  estate. — [MS.  erased.] 


CANTO  VII.]  DON    JUAN.  327 

LXXVIII. 

Nothing. — The  work  of  Glory  still  went  on 

In  preparations  for  a  cannonade 
As  terrible  as  that  of  Ilion, 

If  Homer  had  found  mortars  ready  made  ; 
But  now,  instead  of  slaying  Priam's  son, 

We  only  can  but  talk  of  escalade, 
Bombs,    drums,    guns,    bastions,     batteries,    bayonets, 

bullets — 
Hard  words,  which  stick  in  the  soft  Muses'  gullets. 

LXXIX. 

Oh,  thou  eternal  Homer  !  who  couldst  charm 
All  ears,  though  long ;  all  ages,  though  so  short, 

By  merely  wielding  with  poetic  arm 

Arms  to  which  men  will  never  more  resort, 

Unless  gunpowder  should  be  found  to  harm 
Much  less  than  is  the  hope  of  every  court, 

Which  now  is  leagued  young  Freedom  to  annoy ; 

But  they  will  not  find  Liberty  a  Troy  : — 

LXXX. 

Oh,  thou  eternal  Homer  !  I  have  now 

To  paint  a  siege,  wherein  more  men  were  slain, 

With  deadlier  engines  and  a  speedier  blow, 
Than  in  thy  Greek  gazette  of  that  campaign  : 

And  yet,  like  all  men  else,  I  must  allow, 
To  vie  with  thee  would  be  about  as  vain 

As  for  a  brook  to  cope  with  Ocean's  flood, — 

But  still  we  moderns  equal  you  in  blood : u 

LXXXI. 

If  not  in  poetry,  at  least  in  fact ; 

And  fact  is  Truth,  the  grand  desideratum  ! 
Of  which,  howe'er  the  Muse  describes  each  act, 

There  should  be  ne'ertheless  a  slight  substratum. 
But  now  the  town  is  going  to  be  attacked ; 

Great  deeds  are  doing — how  shall  I  relate  'em  ? 

i.  As  a  brook's  stream  to  cope  with  Ocean  s flood  shed 
Hut  still  we  moderns  equal  you  in  bloods/ted. — [MS.  erased.] 


328  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vn. 

Souls  of  immortal  Generals  !  Phoebus  watches 
To  colour  up  his  rays  from  your  despatches.'1 

LXXXII. 

Oh,  ye  great  bulletins  of  Bonaparte  ! 

Oh,  ye  less  grand  long  lists  of  killed  and  wounded  ! 
Shade  of  Leonidas,  who  fought  so  hearty, 

When  my  poor  Greece  was  once,  as  now,  surrounded  ! 
Oh,  Caesar's  Commentaries  !  now  impart,  ye 

Shadows  of  Glory  !  (lest  I  be  confounded), 
A  portion  of  your  fading  twilight  hues — 
So  beautiful,  so  fleeting — to  the  Muse. 

LXXXIII. 
When  I  call  "  fading  "  martial  immortality, 

I  mean,  that  every  age  and  every  year, 
And  almost  every  day,  in  sad  reality, 

Some  sucking  hero  is  compelled  to  rear, 
Who,  when  we  come  to  sum  up  the  totality 

Of  deeds  to  human  happiness  most  dear, 
Turns  out  to  be  a  butcher  in  great  business, 
Afflicting  young  folks  with  a  sort  of  dizziness. 

LXXXIV. 
Medals,  rank,  ribands,  lace,  embroidery,  scarlet, 

Are  things  immortal  to  immortal  man, 
As  purple  to  the  Babylonian  harlot :  "• 

An  uniform  to  boys  is  like  a  fan 
To  women  ;  there  is  scarce  a  crimson  varlet 

But  deems  himself  the  first  in  Glory's  van. 
But  Glory's  glory ;  and  if  you  would  find 
What  that  is — ask  the  pig  who  sees  the  wind  ! 

LXXXV. 
At  least  he  feels  it,  and  some  say  he  sees, 

Because  he  runs  before  it  like  a  pig ; 
Or,  if  that  simple  sentence  should  displease, 

Say,  that  he  scuds  before  it  like  a  brig, 

i.  As  in  a  General's  letter  when  well  whacked 
Whatever  deeds  be  done  I  will  relate  'em, 
With,  some  small  variations  in  the  text 

Of  killed  and  wounded  who  will  not  be  missed. — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.   Whose  leisure  hours  are  wasted  on  an  harlot. — [MS.  erased.] 


CANTO  VII.] 


DON    JUAN. 


329 


A  schooner,  or — but  it  is  time  to  ease 

This  Canto,  ere  my  Muse  perceives  fatigue. 
The  next  shall  ring  a  peal  to  shake  all  people, 
Like  a  bob-major  from  a  village  steeple. 

LXXXVI. 

Hark !  through  the  silence  of  the  cold,  dull  night, 
The  hum  of  armies  gathering  rank  on  rank  ! 

Lo  !  dusky  masses  steal  in  dubious  sight 
Along  the  leaguered  wall  and  bristling  bank 

Of  the  armed  river,  while  with  straggling  light 

The  stars  peep  through  the  vapours  dim  and  dank, 

Which  curl  in  various  wreaths  : — how  soon  the  smoke 

Of  Hell  shall  pall  them  in  a  deeper  cloak  ! 

LXXXVII. 
Here  pause  we  for  the  present — as  even  then 

That  awful  pause,  dividing  Life  from  Death, 
Struck  for  an  instant  on  the  hearts  of  men, — 

Thousands  of  whom  were  drawing  their  last  breath  ! 
A  moment — and  all  will  be  Life  again  ! 

The  march  !  the  charge  !  the  shouts  of  either  faith, 
Hurrah  !  and  Allah  !  and  one  moment  more — 
The  death-cry  drowning  in  the  Battle's  roar.1- 1 


i.   The  desperate  death-cry  and  the  Battle's  roar. — [MS.  erased.} 
i.  End  of  Canto  7.     1822.— [A/5.] 


33°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 


CANTO   THE    EIGHTH. 


OH,  blood  and  thunder  !  and  oh,  blood  and  wounds  ! 

These  are  but  vulgar  oaths,  as  you  may  deem, 
Too  gentle  reader  !  and  most  shocking  sounds : — 

And  so  they  are  ;  yet  thus  is  Glory's  dream 
Unriddled,  and  as  my  true  Muse  expounds 

At  present  such  things,  since  they  are  her  theme, 
So  be  they  her  inspirers  !     Call  them  Mars, 
Bellona,  what  you  will — they  mean  but  wars. 

ii. 

All  was  prepared — thejire,  the  sword,  the  men 
To  wield  them  in  their  terrible  array, — 

The  army,  like  a  lion  from  his  den, 

Marched  forth  with  nerve  and  sinews  bent  to  slay,- 

A  human  Hydra,  issuing  from  its  fen 

To  breathe  destruction  on  its  winding  way, 

Whose  heads  were  heroes,  which  cut  off  in  vain 

Immediately  in  others  grew  again. 

in. 
History  can  only  take  things  in  the  gross ; 

But  could  we  know  them  in  detail,  perchance 
In  balancing  the  profit  and  the  loss, 

War's  merit  it  by  no  means  might  enhance, 
To  waste  so  much  gold  for  a  little  dross, 

As  hath  been  done,  mere  conquest  to  advance. 
The  drying  up  a  single  tear  has  more 
Of  honest  fame,  than  shedding  seas  of  gore. . 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON    JUAN.  331 

IV. 

And  why  ? — because  it  brings  self-approbation  ; 

Whereas  the  other,  after  all  its  glare, 
Shouts,  bridges,  arches,  pensions  from  a  nation, 

Which  (it  may  be)  has  not  much  left  to  spare, 
A  higher  title,  or  a  loftier  station, 

Though  they  may  make  Corruption  gape  or  stare, 
Yet,  in  the  end,  except  in  Freedom's  battles, 
Are  nothing  but  a  child  of  Murder's  rattles. 

v. 

And  such  they  are — and  such  they  will  be  found  : 

Not  so  Leonidas  and  Washington, 
Whose  every  battle-field  is  holy  ground, 

Which  breathes  of  nations  saved,  not  worlds  undone. 
How  sweetly  on  the  ear  such  echoes  sound  ! 

While  the  mere  victor's  may  appal  or  stun 
The  servile  and  the  vain — such  names  will  be 
A  watchword  till  the  Future  shall  be  free. 

VI. 

The  night  was  dark,  and  the  thick  mist  allowed 
Nought  to  be  seen  save  the  artillery's  flame, 

Which  arched  the  horizon  like  a  fiery  cloud, 
And  in  the  Danube's  waters  shone  the  same — * 

A  mirrored  Hell !  the  volleying  roar,  and  loud 
Long  booming  of  each  peal  on  peal,  o'ercame 

The  ear  far  more  than  thunder ;  for  Heaven's  flashes 

Spare,  or  smite  rarely — Man's  make  millions  ashes  ! 

VII. 

The  column  ordered  on  the  assault  scarce  passed 
Beyond  the  Russian  batteries  a  few  toises, 

When  up  the  bristling  Moslem  rose  at  last, 

Answering  the  Christian  thunders  with  like  voices : 

Then  one  vast  fire,  air,  earth,  and  stream  embraced, 
Which  rocked  as  't  were  beneath  the  mighty  noises ; 

i.  ["  La  nuit  6tait  obscure;  un  brouillard  6pais  ne  nous  permettait 
de  distinguer  autre  chose  que  le  feu  de  notre  artillerie,  dont  1'horizon 
etait  embrase'  de  tous  cotes :  ce  feu,  partant  du  milieu  du  Danube,  se 
r6fl<5chissait  sur  les  eaux,  et  offrait  un  coup  d'oeil  tres-singulier." — Hist, 
de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  209.] 


33 2  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

While  the  whole  rampart  blazed  like  Etna,  when 
The  restless  Titan  hiccups  in  his  den  ; l 

VIII. 

And  one  enormous  shout  of  "  Allah  !  "  2  rose 
In  the  same  moment,  loud  as  even  the  roar 

Of  War's  most  mortal  engines,  to  their  foes 
Hurling  defiance  :  city,  stream,  and  shore 

Resounded  "  Allah  ! "  and  the  clouds  which  close 
With  thickening  canopy  the  conflict  o'er, 

Vibrate  to  the  Eternal  name.     Hark !  through 

All  sounds  it  pierceth— "  Allah  !  Allah  Hu  ! "  3 

IX. 

The  columns  were  in  movement  one  and  all, 
But  of  the  portion  which  attacked  by  water, 

Thicker  than  leaves  the  lives  began  to  fall,4 

Though  led  by  Arseniew,  that  great  son  of  slaughter, 

As  brave  as  ever  faced  both  bomb  and  ball. 

"Carnage"    (so   Wordsworth   tells    you)    "is   God's 
daughter : "  5 

1.  ["A  peine  eut-on  parcouru  1'espace  de  quelques  toises  au-dela  des 
batteries,  que  les  Turcs,  qui  n'avaient  point  tirO  pendant  toute  la  nuit 
s'apper9evant  de  nos  mouvemens,  commencerent  de  leur  cot6  un  feu 
tres-vif,  qui   embrasa   le  reste  de  1'horizon  :   mais  ce  fut   bien   autre 
chose  lorsque.  avance's  davantage,  le  feu  de  la  mousqueterie  commen9a 
dans  toute  I'e'tendue  du  rempart  que  nous  appercevions.     Ce  fut  alors 
que  la  place  parut  a  nos  yeux  comme  un  volcan  dont  le  feu  sortait  de 
toutes  parts." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Rnssie,  ii.  209.] 

2.  ["  Un  cri  universel  d'  allah,  qui  se  rOp^tait  tout  autour  de  la  ville, 
vint  encore  rendre  plus  extraordinaire  cet  instant,  dont  il  est  impossible 
de  se  faire  une  id6e." — Ibid.,  p.  209.] 

3.  Allah  Hu  !  is  properly  the  war-cry  of  the  Mussulmans,  and  they 
dwell  on  the  last  syllable,  which  gives  it  a  wild  and  peculiar  effect. 

[See  The  Giaour,  line  734,  Poetical  Works,  1900,  iii.  120,  note  i  ; 
see,  too,  Siege  of  Corinth,  line  713,  ibid. ,  p.  481.] 

4.  ["  Toutes  les  colonnes  elaient  en  mouvement ;  celles  qui  attaquaient 
par  eau  commandoes  par  le  ge'ne'ral  Arseniew,  essuyerent  un  feu  6pou- 
vantable,  et  perdirent  avant  le  jour  un  tiers  de  leurs  officiers." — Hist, 
de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  209.] 

5.  "  But  Thy*  most  dreaded  instrument. 

In  working  out  a  pure  intent, 


*  To  wit,  the  Deity's  :  this  is  perhaps  as  pretty  a  pedigree  for  murder 
as  ever  was  found  out  by  Garter  King  at  Arms. — What  would  have 
been  said,  had  any  free-spoken  people  discovered  such  a  lineage  ? 


CANTO  VIII.]  BON    JUAN,  333 

If  he  speak  truth,  she  is  Christ's  sister,  and 
Just  now  behaved  as  in  the  Holy  Land. 

x. 

The  Prince  de  Ligne  was  wounded  in  the  knee ; 

Count  Chapeau-Bras,1-  too,  had  a  ball  between 
His  cap  and  head,1  which  proves  the  head  to  be 

Aristocratic  as  was  ever  seen, 
Because  it  then  received  no  injury 

More  than  the  cap ;  in  fact,  the  ball  could  mean 
No  harm  unto  a  right  legitimate  head ; 
"  Ashes  to  ashes  " — why  not  lead  to  lead  ? 

XI. 

Also  the  General  Markow,  Brigadier, 

Insisting  on  removal  of  the  Prince 
Amidst  some  groaning  thousands  dying  near, — 

All  common  fellows,  who  might  writhe  and  wince, 
And  shriek  for  water  into  a  deaf  ear, — 

The  General  Markow,  who  could  thus  evince 

i.   The  Due  de  Richelieu .—[MS.  erased.] 

Is  Man — arrayed  for  mutual  slaughter, — 
Yea,  Carnage  is  thy  daughter  /" 
Wordsworth's  Thanksgiving  Ode  (January  18,  1816), 

stanza  xii.  lines  20,  23. 

[Wordsworth  omitted  the  lines  in  the  last  edition  of  his  poems,  which 
was  revised  by  his  own  hand.] 

i.  ["  Le  Prince  de  Ligne  fut  bless6  au  genou;  le  Due  de  Richelieu 
cut  une  balle  entre  le  fond  de  son  bonnet  et  sa  tete." — Hist,  de  la 
Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  210. 

For  the  gallantry  of  Prince  Charles  de  Ligne  (died  September  14, 
1792)  eldest  son  of  Prince  Charles  Joseph  de  Ligne  (1735-1814),  see 
The  Prince  de  Ligne,  1899,  ii.  46. 

Armand  Emanuel  du  Plessis,  Due  de  Richelieu,  born  1767,  a  grand- 
son of  Louis  Fran9ois  Due  de  Richelieu,  the  Marshal  of  France  (1696- 
1780),  served  under  Catherine  II.,  and  afterwards  under  the  Czar  Paul. 
On  the  restoration  of  Louis  XVIII.  he  entered  the  King's  household  ; 
and  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo  took  office  as  President  of  the  Council 
and  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs.  His  Journal  de  mon  Voyage  en 
Allemagne,  which  was  then  unpublished,  was  placed  at  the  disposal  of 
the  Marquis  de  Castelnau  (see  Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  1827,  i. 
241).  It  has  been  printed  in  full  by  the  Sociitf  Imptriale  d' Histoire  de 
Russie,  1886,  torn.  liv.  pp.  111-198.  See  for  further  mention  of  the 
manuscript,  Le  Due  de  Richelieu,  par  Raoul  de  Cisternes,  1898,  Preface, 
p.  3,  note  i.  He  died  May  17,  1822,  two  months  before  Cantos 
VI.,  VII.,  VIII.  were  completed.] 


334  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

His  sympathy  for  rank,  by  the  same  token, 
To  teach  him  greater,  had  his  own  leg  broken.1 

XII. 

Three  hundred  cannon  threw  up  their  emetic, 
And  thirty  thousand  muskets  flung  their  pills 

Like  hail,  to  make  a  bloody  Diuretic.2 
Mortality  !  thou  hast  thy  monthly  bills  : 

Thy  plagues — thy  famines — thy  physicians— yet  tick, 
Like  the  death-watch,  within  our  ears  the  ills 

Past,  present,  and  to  come ; — but  all  may  yield 

To  the  true  portrait  of  one  battle-field ; 

XIII. 

There  the  still  varying  pangs,  which  multiply 
Until  their  very  number  makes  men  hard 

By  the  infinities  of  agony, 

Which  meet  the  gaze,  whate'er  it  may  regard — 

The  groan,  the  roll  in  dust,  the  all-white  eye 
Turned  back  within  its  socket, — these  reward 

Your  rank  and  file  by  thousands,  while  the  rest 

May  win  perhaps  a  riband  at  the  breast ! 

XIV. 

Yet  I  love  Glory  j — Glory  's  a  great  thing  : — 

Think  what  it  is  to  be  in  your  old  age 
Maintained  at  the  expense  of  your  good  King : 

A  moderate  pension  shakes  full  many  a  sage, 
And  Heroes  are  but  made  for  bards  to  sing, 

Which  is  still  better — thus,  in  verse,  to  wage 
Your  wars  eternally,  besides  enjoying 
Half-pay  for  life,  make  Mankind  worth  destroying. 

xv. 

The  troops,  already  disembarked,  pushed  on 
To  take  a  battery  on  the  right :  the  others, 

1.  ["  Le  brigadier  Markovv,  insistant  pour  qu'on  emportat  le  prince 
bless6,  requt  un  coup  de  fusil   qui  lui  fracassa  le  pied." — Hist,  de  la 
Nowelle  Russie,  ii.  210.] 

2.  ["Trois  cents  touches  a  feu  vomissaient  sans  interruption,  et 
trente  mille  fusils  alimentaient  sans  relache  une grele de  balles." — Ibid., 
p.  210.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  335 

Who  landed  lower  down,  their  landing  done, 
Had  set  to  work  as  briskly  as  their  brothers : 

Being  grenadiers,  they  mounted  one  by  one, 

Cheerful  as  children  climb  the  breasts  of  mothers, 

O'er  the  intrenchment  and  the  palisade,1 

Quite  orderly,  as  if  upon  parade. 

XVI. 

And  this  was  admirable  :  for  so  hot 

The  fire  was,  that  were  red  Vesuvius  loaded, 

Besides  its  lava,  with  all  sorts  of  shot 

And  shells  or  hells,  it  could  not  more  have  goaded. 

Of  officers  a  third  fell  on  the  spot, 

A  thing  which  Victory  by  no  means  boded 

To  gentlemen  engaged  in  the  assault : 

Hounds,  when  the  huntsman  tumbles,  are  at  fault. 

XVII. 

But  here  I  leave  the  general  concern 
To  track  our  Hero  on  his  path  of  Fame  : 

He  must  his  laurels  separately  earn — 
For  fifty  thousand  heroes,  name  by  name, 

Though  all  deserving  equally  to  turn 
A  couplet,  or  an  elegy  to  claim, 

Would  form  a  lengthy  lexicon  of  Glory, 

And,  what  is  worse  still,  a  much  longer  story  : 

xvni. 
And  therefore  we  must  give  the  greater  number 

To  the  Gazette — which  doubtless  fairly  dealt 
By  the  deceased,  who  lie  in  famous  slumber 

In  ditches,  fields,  or  wheresoe'er  they  felt 
Their  clay  for  the  last  time  their  souls  encumber ; — 

Thrice  happy  he  whose  name  has  been  well  spelt 
In  the  despatch :  I  knew  a  man  whose  loss 
Was  printed  Grove,  although  his  name  was  Grose.2 

1.  ["Les    troupes,   d£ja    de"barque"es,   se    porterent  a  droite    pour 
s'emparer  d'une  batterie  ;  et  celles  de'barque'es  plus  bas,  principalement 
composers  des  grenadiers  de  Fanagorie,  escaladaient  le  retranchement 
et  la  palissade." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  210.] 

2.  A  fact :  see  the  Waterloo  Gazettes.     I  recollect  remarking  at  the 
time  to  a  friend  : — "  There  is  fame  I  a  man  is  killed,  his  name  is  Grose, 
and  they  print  it  Grove."    I  was  at  college  with  the  deceased,  who  was 


336  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vrn. 

XIX. 

Juan  and  Johnson  joined  a  certain  corps, 

And  fought  away  with  might  and  main,  not  knowing 

The  way  which  they  had  never  trod  before, 

And  still  less  guessing  where  they  might  be  going ; 

But  on  they  marched,  dead  bodies  trampling  o'er, 
Firing,  and  thrusting,  slashing,  sweating,  glowing, 

But  fighting  thoughtlessly  enough  to  win, 

To  their  two  selves,  one  whole  bright  bulletin. 

xx. 

Thus  on  they  wallowed  in  the  bloody  mire 

Of  dead  and  dying  thousands, — sometimes  gaining 

A  yard  or  two  of  ground,  which  brought  them  nigher 
To  some  odd  angle  for  which  all  were  straining  ; 

At  other  times,  repulsed  by  the  close  fire, 

Which  really  poured  as  if  all  Hell  were  raining 

Instead  of  Heaven,  they  stumbled  backwards  o'er 

A  wounded  comrade,  sprawling  in  his  gore. 

XXI. 

Though  't  was  Don  Juan's  first  of  fields,  and  though 
The  nightly  muster  and  the  silent  march 

In  the  chill  dark,  when  Courage  does  not  glow 
So  much  as  under  a  triumphal  arch, 

Perhaps  might  make  him  shiver,  yawn,  or  throw 
A  glance  on  the  dull  clouds  (as  thick  as  starch, 

Which  stiffened  Heaven)  as  if  he  wished  for  day  ; — 

Yet  for  all  this  he  did  not  run  away. 

XXII. 

Indeed  he  could  not.     But  what  if  he  had  ? 
There  have  been  and  are  heroes  who  begun 

a  very  amiable  and  clever  man,  and  his  society  in  great  request  for  his 
wit,  gaiety,  and  "  Chansons  a  boire." 

[In  the  London  Gazette  Extraordinary  of  June  22,  1815,  Captain 
Grove,  ist  Guards,  is  among  the  list  of  killed.  In  the  supplement  to 
the  London  Gazette,  published  July  3,  1815,  the  mistake  was  corrected, 
and  the  entry  runs,  "  ist  Guards,  3d  Batt.  Lieut.  Edward  Grose, 
(Captain)."  I  am  indebted  to  the  courtesy  of  the  Registrar  of  the 
University  of  Cambridge  for  the  information  that  Edward  Grose 
matriculated  at  St.  John's  College  as  a  pensioner,  December  7,  1805. 
Thanks  to  the  "  misprint "  in  the  Gazette,  and  to  Byron,  he  is  "  a  name 
for  ever." — Vir  nulld  non  donatits  laitru  /] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON    JUAN.  337 

With  something  not  much  better,  or  as  bad  : 

Frederick  the  Great  from  Molwitz  1  deigned  to  run, 

For  the  first  and  last  time ;  for,  like  a  pad, 
Or  hawk,  or  bride,  most  mortals  after  one 

Warm  bout  are  broken  in  to  their  new  tricks, 

And  fight  like  fiends  for  pay  or  politics. 

XXIII. 

He  was  what  Erin  calls,  in  her  sublime 
Old  Erse  or  Irish,  or  it  may  be  Punic ; — 

(The  antiquarians 2 — who  can  settle  Time, 

Which  settles  all  things,  Roman,  Greek,  or  Runic — 

Swear  that  Pat's  language  sprung  from  the  same  clime 
With  Hannibal,  and  wears  the  Tyrian  tunic 

Of  Dido's  alphabet — and  this  is  rational 

As  any  other  notion,  and  not  national ;) — 

XXIV. 

But  Juan  was  quite  "  a  broth  of  a  boy," 
A  thing  of  impulse  and  a  child  of  song ; 

Now  swimming  in  the  sentiment  of  joy, 

Or  the  sensation  (if  that  phrase  seem  wrong), 

And  afterward,  if  he  must  needs  destroy, 
In  such  good  company  as  always  throng 

1.  [At  the  Battle  of  Mollwitz,  April  10,  1741,  "  the  king  vanishes  for 
sixteen  hours  into  the  regions  of  Myth  '  into  Fairyland, "...  of  the 
king's  flight  .  .  .  the  king  himself,  who  alone  could  have  told  us  fully, 
maintained  always  rigorous  silence,  and  nowhere  drops  the  least  hint. 
So  that  the  small  fact  has  come  down  to  us  involved  in  a  great  bulk  of 
fabulous  cobwebs,  mostly  of  an  ill-natured  character,  set  a-going  by 
Voltaire,  Valori,  and  others." — Carlyle's  Frederick  the  Great,  1862,  iii. 
314,  322,  sq.] 

2.  See  General  Valancey  and  Sir  Lawrence  Parsons. 

[Charles  Vallancey  (1721-1812),  general  in  the  Royal  Engineers, 
published  an  "  Essay  on  the  Celtic  Language,"  etc.,  in  1782.  "The 
language  [the  Iberno-Celtic],"  he  writes  (p.  4),  "we  are  now  going  to 
explain,  had  such  an  affinity  with  the  Punic,  that  it  may  be  said  to 
have  been,  in  a  great  degree,  the  language  of  Hanibal  (sic),  Hamilcar, 
and  of  Asdrubal."  Sir  Laurence  Parsons  (1758-1841),  second  Earl  of 
Rosse,  represented  the  University  of  Dublin  1782-90,  and  afterwards 
King's  County,  in  the  Irish  House  of  Commons.  He  was  an  opponent 
of  the  Union.  In  a  pamphlet  entitled  Defence  of  the  Antient  History 
of  Ireland,  published  in  1795,  he  maintains  (p.  158)  "  that  the  Cartha- 
ginian and  the  Irish  language  being  originally  the  same,  either  the 
Carthaginians  must  have  been  descended  from  the  Irish,  or  the  Irish 
from  the  Carthaginians."] 

VOL.  VI.  Z 


338  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vi ii. 

To  battles,  sieges,  and  that  kind  of  pleasure, 
No  less  delighted  to  employ  his  leisure ; 

XXV. 

But  always  without  malice :  if  he  warred 

Or  loved,  it  was  with  what  we  call  "  the  best 

Intentions,"  which  form  all  Mankind's  trump  card, 
To  be  produced  when  brought  up  to  the  test. 

The  statesman — hero — harlot — lawyer — ward 
Off  each  attack,  when  people  are  in  quest 

Of  their  designs,  by  saying  they  meant  well ; 

'T  is  pity  "  that  such  meaning  should  pave  Hell."  * 

XXVI. 

I  almost  lately  have  begun  to  doubt 

Whether  Hell's  pavement — if  it  be  so  paved — 

Must  not  have  latterly  been  quite  worn  out, 
Not  by  the  numbers  good  intent  hath  saved, 

But  by  the  mass  who  go  below  without 

Those  ancient  good  intentions,  which  once  shaved 

And  smoothed  the  brimstone  of  that  street  of  Hell 

Which  bears  the  greatest  likeness  to  Pall  Mall.'- 

XXVII. 

Juan,  by  some  strange  chance,  which  oft  divides 
Warrior  from  warrior  in  their  grim  career, 

Like  chastest  wives  from  constant  husbands'  sides 
Just  at  the  close  of  the  first  bridal  year, 

By  one  of  those  odd  turns  of  Fortune's  tides, 
Was  on  a  sudden  rather  puzzled  here, 

When,  after  a  good  deal  of  heavy  firing, 

He  found  himself  alone,  and  friends  retiring. 

XXVIII. 

I  don't  know  how  the  thing  occurred — it  might 
Be  that  the  greater  part  were  killed  or  wounded, 

And  that  the  rest  had  faced  unto  the  right 
About ;  a  circumstance  which  has  confounded 

i.  At  least  tlie  sharp  points  of  that  "  burning  marie." — [AfS.  erased."] 

i.  The  Portuguese  proverb  says  that  "hell  is  paved  with  good  inten- 
tions."— [See  Vision  of  Judgment,  stanza  xxxvii.  line  8,  Poetical  Works, 
1901,  iv.  499,  note  2.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  339 

Caesar  himself,  who,  in  the  very  sight 

Of  his  whole  army,  which  so  much  abounded 
In  courage,  was  obliged  to  snatch  a  shield, 
And  rally  back  his  Romans  to  the  field.1 

XXIX. 

Juan,  who  had  no  shield  to  snatch,  and  was 
No  Caesar,  but  a  fine  young  lad,  who  fought 

He  knew  not  why,  arriving  at  this  pass, 
Stopped  for  a  minute,  as  perhaps  he  ought 

For  a  much  longer  time ;  then,  like  an  ass 

(Start  not,  kind  reader,  since  great  Homer  2  thought 

This  simile  enough  for  Ajax,  Juan 

Perhaps  may  find  it  better  than  a  new  one)  ; 

xxx. 
Then,  like  an  ass,  he  went  upon  his  way, 

And,  what  was  stranger,  never  looked  behind ; 
But  seeing,  flashing  forward,  like  the  day 

Over  the  hills,  a  fire  enough  to  blind 
Those  who  dislike  to  look  upon  a  fray, 

He  stumbled  on,  to  try  if  he  could  find 
A  path,  to  add  his  own  slight  arm  and  forces 
To  corps,  the  greater  part  of  which  were  corses. 

XXXI. 

Perceiving  then  no  more  the  commandant 

Of  his  own  corps,  nor  even  the  corps,  which  had 

Quite  disappeared — the  gods  know  how  !  (I  can't 
Account  for  everything  which  may  look  bad 

In  history  ;  but  we  at  least  may  grant 
It  was  not  marvellous  that  a  mere  lad, 

1.  ["The  Nervii  marched  to  the  number  of  sixty  thousand,  and  fell 
upon  Caesar,  as  he  was   fortifying  his  camp,  and   had   not  the  least 
notion  of  so  sudden  an  attack.     They  first  routed  his  cavalry,  and  then 
surrounded  the  twelfth  and   the  seventh  legions,  and  killed  all  the 
officers.     Had  not  Ccesar  snatched  a  buckler  from  one  of  his  own  men , 
forced  his  way  through  the  combatants  before  him,  and  rushed  upon 
the  barbarians ;  or  had  not  the  tenth   legion,  seeing  his  danger,  ran 
from  the  heights  where  they  were  posted,  and  mowed  down  the  enemy's 
ranks,  not  one  Roman  would  have   survived  the  battle." — Plutarch, 
Catsar,  Langhorne's  translation,  1838,  p.  502.] 

2.  ["As  near  a  field  of  corn,  a  stubborn  ass  ... 

E'en  so  great  Ajax  son  of  Telamon." 
The  Iliad,  Lord  Derby's  translation,  bk.  xi.  lines  639,  645.] 


340  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

In  search  of  Glory,  should  look  on  before, 
Nor  care  a  pinch  of  snuff  about  his  corps  :) — '• 

XXXII. 

Perceiving  nor  commander  nor  commanded, 
And  left  at  large,  like  a  young  heir,  to  make 

His  way  to — where  he  knew  not — single  handed ; 
As  travellers  follow  over  bog  and  brake 

An  "  ignis  fatuus ;  "  or  as  sailors  stranded 
Unto  the  nearest  hut  themselves  betake ; 

So  Juan,  following  Honour  and  his  nose, 

Rushed  where  the  thickest  fire  announced  most  foes. l 

XXXIII. 

He  knew  not  where  he  was,  nor  greatly  cared, 

For  he  was  dizzy,  busy,  and  his  veins 
Filled  as  with  lightning — for  his  spirit  shared 

The  hour,  as  is  the  case  with  lively  brains ; 
And  where  the  hottest  fire  was  seen  and  heard, 

And  the  loud  cannon  pealed  his  hoarsest  strains, 
He  rushed,  while  earth  and  air  were  sadly  shaken 
By  thy  humane  discovery,  Friar  Bacon !  "•  2 

xxxiv. 
And  as  he  rushed  along,  it  came  to  pass  he 

Fell  in  with  what  was  late  the  second  column, 
Under  the  orders  of  the  General  Lascy, 

But  now  reduced,  as  is  a  bulky  volume 

i.  Nor  care  a  single  damn  about  his  corps. — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.       For  he  was  dizzy,  busy,  and  his  blood 

Lightening  along  his  veins,  and  -where  he  heard 

The  liveliest  fire,  and  saw  the  fiercest  flood 
Of  Friar  Bacon  s  mild  discovery,  shared 

By  Turks  and  Christians  equally,  lie  could 
No  longer  now  resist  the  attraction  of  gunpowder 
But  few  to  where  the  merry  orchestra  played  louder. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  ["  N'apercevant   plus  le   commandant  du  corps  dont  je   faisais 
partie,  et  ignorant  oil  je  devais  porter  mes  pas,  je  crus  reconnaitre  le 
lieu  oil  le  rempart  £tait  situ6  ;  on  y  faisait  un  feu  assez  vif,  que  je  jugeai 
£tre  celui  .  .  .  du  general-major  de   Lascy." — Hist,   de  la  Nouvelle 
Russie,  ii.  210.    The  speaker  is  the  Due  de  Richelieu.    See,  for  original, 
his  Journal  de  man  Voyage,  etc.,  Soc.  Imp.  d  Hist,  de  Russie,  torn.  liv. 

P-  I79-] 

2.  Gunpowder  is  said  to  have  been  discovered  by  this  friar.     [N.B. 
Though  Friar  Bacon  seems  to  have  discovered  gunpowder,  he  had  the 
humanity  not  to  record  his  discovery  in  intelligible  language.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON    JUAN.  341 

Into  an  elegant  extract  (much  less  massy)  • 

Of  heroism,  and  took  his  place  with  solemn 
Air  'midst  the  rest,  who  kept  their  valiant  faces 
And  levelled  weapons  still  against  the  Glacis.'- 

xxxv. 
Just  at  this  crisis  up  came  Johnson  too, 

Who  had  "  retreated,"  as  the  phrase  is  when 
Men  run  away  much  rather  than  go  through 

Destruction's  jaws  into  the  Devil's  den  ; 
But  Johnson  was  a  clever  fellow,  who 

Knew  when  and  how  "  to  cut  and  come  again," 
And  never  ran  away,  except  when  running 
Was  nothing  but  a  valorous  kind  of  cunning. 

xxxvi. 
And  so,  when  all  his  corps  were  dead  or  dying, 

Except  Don  Juan,  a  mere  novice,  whose 
More  virgin  valour  never  dreamt  of  flying, 

From  ignorance  of  danger,  which  indues 
Its  votaries,  like  Innocence  relying 

On  its  own  strength,  with  careless  nerves  and  thews, — 
Johnson  retired  a  little,  just  to  rally 
Those  who  catch  cold  in  "  shadows  of  Death's  valley." 

XXXVII. 

And  there,  a  little  sheltered  from  the  shot, 
Which  rained  from  bastion,  battery,  parapet, 

Rampart,  wall,  casement,  house — for  there  was  not 
In  this  extensive  city,  sore  beset 

By  Christian  soldiery,  a  single  spot 

Which  did  not  combat  like  the  Devil,  as  yet, — 

He  found  a  number  of  Chasseurs,  all  scattered 

By  the  resistance  of  the  chase  they  battered. 

XXXVIII. 

And   these  he   called   on;   and,  what   's   strange,  they 

came 
Unto  his  call,  unlike  "  the  spirits  from 

i.  whose  short  breath,  and  long  faces 

Kept  always  pushing  onwards  lu  the  Glacis. — [MS.  erased.] 


342  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

The  vasty  deep,"  to  whom  you  may  exclaim, 

Says  Hotspur,  long  ere  they  will  leave  their  home : — l 

Their  reasons  were  uncertainty,  or  shame 
At  shrinking  from  a  bullet  or  a  bomb, 

And  that  odd  impulse,  which  in  wars  or  creeds  '• 

Makes  men,  like  cattle,  follow  him  who  leads. 

XXXIX. 

By  Jove  !  he  was  a  noble  fellow,  Johnson, 
And  though  his  name,  than  Ajax  or  Achilles, 

Sounds  less  harmonious,  underneath  the  sun  soon 
We  shall  not  see  his  likeness  :  he  could  kill  his 

Man  quite  as  quietly  as  blows  the  Monsoon 

Her  steady  breath  (which  some  months  the  same  still 
is): 

Seldom  he  varied  feature,  hue,  or  muscle, 

And  could  be  very  busy  without  bustle  ; 

XL. 
And  therefore,  when  he  ran  away,  he  did  so 

Upon  reflection,  knowing  that  behind 
He  would  find  others  who  would  fain  be  rid  so 

Of  idle  apprehensions,  which  like  wind 
Trouble  heroic  stomachs.     Though  their  lids  so 

Oft  are  soon  closed,  all  heroes  are  not  blind, 
But  when  they  light  upon  immediate  death, 
Retire  a  little,  merely  to  take  breath. 

XLI. 
But  Johnson  only  ran  off,  to  return 

With  many  other  warriors,  as  we  said, 
Unto  that  rather  somewhat  misty  bourne, 

Which  Hamlet  tells  us  is  a  pass  of  dread.3 
To  Jack,  howe'er,  this  gave  but  slight  concern  : 

His  soul  (like  galvanism  upon  the  dead) 
Acted  upon  the  living  as  on  wire, 
And  led  them  back  into  the  heaviest  fire. 

i.  And  that  mechanic  impulse . — \_MS.  erased.} 

1.  [i  Henry  IV.,  act  iii.  sc.  i,  line  53.] 

2.  [Hamlet,  act  iii.  sc.  i,  lines  79,  80.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON    JUAX.  343 

XLII. 

Egad !  they  found  the  second  time  what  they 
The  first  time  thought  quite  terrible  enough 

To  fly  from,  malgre  all  which  people  say 
Of  Glory,  and  all  that  immortal  stuff 

Which  fills  a  regiment  (besides  their  pay, 

That  daily  shilling  which  makes  warriors  tough) — 

They  found  on  their  return  the  self-same  welcome, 

Which  made  some  think^  and  others  know,  a  hell  come. 

XLIII. 
They  fell  as  thick  as  harvests  beneath  hail, 

Grass  before  scythes,  or  corn  below  the  sickle, 
Proving  that  trite  old  truth,  that  Life  's  as  frail 

As  any  other  boon  for  which  men  stickle. 
The  Turkish  batteries  thrashed  them  like  a  flail, 

Or  a  good  boxer,  into  a  sad  pickle 
Putting  the  very  bravest,  who  were  knocked 
Upon  the  head  before  their  guns  were  cocked. 

XLIV. 
The  Turks  behind  the  traverses  and  flanks 

Of  the  next  bastion,  fired  away  like  devils, 
And  swept,  as  gales  sweep  foam  away,  whole  ranks  : 

However,  Heaven  knows  how,  the  Fate  who  levels 
Towns — nations — worlds,  in  her  revolving  pranks, 

So  ordered  it,  amidst  these  sulphury  revels, 
That  Johnson,  and  some  few  who  had  not  scampered, 
Reached  the  interior  "  talus  "  x  of  the  rampart.3 

XLV. 

First  one  or  two,  then  five,  six,  and  a  dozen 
Came  mounting  quickly  up,  for  it  was  now 

1.  ["  Talus :  the  slope  or  inclination  of  a  wall,  whereby,  reclining  at 
the  top  so  as  to  fall  within  its  base,  the  thickness  is  gradually  lessened 
according  to  the  height." — Milit.  Diet.] 

2.  ["Appelant  ceux  des  chasseurs  qui  gtaient  autour  de  moi  en 
assez  grand  nombre,  je  m'avancai  et  reconnus  ne  m'Stre  point  trompe' 
dans  mon  calcul ;  c'e'tait  en  effet  cette  colonne  qui  a  1'instant  parvenait 
au  sommet  du  rempart.     Les  Turcs  de  derriere  les  travers  et  les  flancs 
des  bastions  voisins  fasaient  sur  elle  un  feu  tres-vif  de  canon  et  de  mous- 
queterie.    Je  gravis,  avec  les  gens  qui  m'avaient  suivi,  le  talus  inteYieur 
du  rempart." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Kitssie,  ii.  210.] 


344  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

All  neck  or  nothing,  as,  like  pitch  or  rosin, 

Flame  was  showered  forth  above,  as  well  's  below, 

So  that  you  scarce  could  say  who  best  had  chosen, 
The  gentlemen  that  were  the  first  to  show 

Their  martial  faces  on  the  parapet, 

Or  those  who  thought  it  brave  to  wait  as  yet. 

XLVI. 
But  those  who  scaled,  found  out  that  their  advance 

Was  favoured  by  an  accident  or  blunder  : 
The  Greek  or  Turkish  Cohorn's 1  ignorance 

Had  pallisadoed  in  a  way  you  'd  wonder 
To  see  in  forts  of  Netherlands  or  France — 

(Though  these  to  our  Gibraltar  must  knock  under) — 
Right  in  the  middle  of  the  parapet 
Just  named,  these  palisades  were  primly  set : 2 

XLVII. 
So  that  on  either  side  some  nine  or  ten 

Paces  were  left,  whereon  you  could  contrive 
To  march ;  a  great  convenience  to  our  men, 

At  least  to  all  those  who  were  left  alive, 
Who  thus  could  form  a  line  and  fight  again ; 

And  that  which  farther  aided  them  to  strive 
Was,  that  they  could  kick  down  the  palisades, 
Which  scarcely  rose  much  higher  than  grass  blades.3 

XLVIII. 

Among  the  first, — I  will  not  say  the  first, 
For  such  precedence  upon  such  occasions 

1.  [Baron  Menno  van  Coehoorn  (circ.  1641-1704),  a  Dutch  military 
engineer,  the  contemporary  and  rival  of  Vauban,  invented  a  mortar 
which  bore  his  name.     He  was  the  author  of  a  celebrated  work  on 
fortification,  published  in  1692.] 

2.  ["  Ce  rat  dans  cet  instant  que  je  reconnus  combien  1'ignorance  du 
constructeur  des  palissades  etait  importante  pour  nous ;  car,  comme 
elles  e'taient  placets  au  milieu  du  parapet,"  etc. — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle 
Russie,  ii.  211.] 

3.  They  were  but  two  feet  above  the  level. — [MS.] 

["  II  y  avail  de  chaque  c6t6  neuf  a  dix  pieds  sur  lesquels  on  pouvait 
marcher ;  et  les  soldats,  apres  etre  monies,  avaient  pu  se  ranger  com- 
mod£menl  sur  1'espace  exterieur  et  enjamber  ensuite  les  palissades,  qui 
ne  s'elevaient  que  d'a-peu-pres  deux  pieds  au-dessus  du  niveau  de  la 
terre." — Ibid. ,  p.  211.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  345 

Will  oftentimes  make  deadly  quarrels  burst 
Out  between  friends  as  well  as  allied  nations : 

The  Briton  must  be  bold  who  really  durst 
Put  to  such  trial  John  Bull's  partial  patience, 

As  say  that  Wellington  at  Waterloo 

Was  beaten, — though  the  Prussians  say  so  too ; — 

XLIX. 
And  that  if  Blucher,  Bulow,  Gneisenau, 

And  God  knows  who  besides  in  "  au"  and  "  ow," 
Had  not  come  up  in  time  to  cast  an  awe  l 

Into  the  hearts  of  those  who  fought  till  now 
As  tigers  combat  with  an  empty  craw, 

The  Duke  of  Wellington  had  ceased  to  show 
His  Orders — also  to  receive  his  pensions, 
Which  are  the  heaviest  that  our  history  mentions. 

L. 
But  never  mind ; — "  God  save  the  King  !  "  and  Kings  ! 

For  if  he  don't,  I  doubt  if  men  will  longer — 
I  think  I  hear  a  little  bird,  who  sings 

The  people  by  and  by  will  be  the  stronger  : 
The  veriest  jade  will  wince  whose  harness  wrings 

So  much  into  the  raw  as  quite  to  wrong  her 
Beyond  the  rules  of  posting, — and  the  mob 
At  last  fall  sick  of  imitating  Job. 

LI. 
At  first  it  grumbles,  then  it  swears,  and  then, 

Like  David,  flings  smooth  pebbles  'gainst  a  Giant ; 
At  last  it  takes  to  weapons  such  as  men 

Snatch  when  Despair  makes  human  hearts  less  pliant. 

i.  [Friederich  Wilhelm,  Baron  von  Billow  (1755-1816),  was  in  com- 
mand of  the  4th  corps  of  the  Prussian  Army  at  Waterloo.  August 
Wilhelm  Antonius  Neidhart  von  Gneisenau  (1760-1831)  was  chief  of 
staff,  and  after  Blucher  was  disabled  by  a  fall  at  Ligny,  assumed 
temporary  command,  June  16-17,  1815.  He  headed  the  triumphant 
pursuit  of  the  French  on  the  night  of  the  battle.  For  Bliicher's  official 
account  of  the  battles  of  Ligny  and  Waterloo  (subscribed  by  Gneisenau), 
see  W.  H.  Maxwell's  Life  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  1841,  iii.  566- 
571  ;  and  for  Wellington's  acknowledgment  of  Bliicher's  "cordial  and 
timely  assistance,"  see  Dispatches,  1847,  viii.  150.  See,  too,  The  Life  of 
Wellington,  by  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Herbert  Maxwell,  Bart.,  1899,  "• 
88,  et passim.} 


346  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

Then  comes  "  the  tug  of  war ; " — 't  will  come  again, 
I  rather  doubt ;  and  I  would  fain  say  "  fie  on  't," 
If  I  had  not  perceived  that  Revolution 
Alone  can  save  the  earth  from  Hell's  pollution. 

LII. 
But  to  continue  : — I  say  not  the  first, 

But  of  the  first,  our  little  friend  Don  Juan 
Walked  o'er  the  walls  of  Ismail,  as  if  nursed 

Amidst  such  scenes — though  this  was  quite  a  new  one 
To  him,  and  I  should  hope  to  most.     The  thirst 

Of  Glory,  which  so  pierces  through  and  through  one, 
Pervaded  him — although  a  generous  creature, 
As  warm  in  heart  as  feminine  in  feature.1 

LIII. 
And  here  he  was — who  upon  Woman's  breast, 

Even  from  a  child,  felt  like  a  child ;  howe'er 
The  Man  in  all  the  rest  might  be  confessed, 

To  him  it  was  Elysium  to  be  there ; 
And  he  could  even  withstand  that  awkward  test 

Which  Rousseau  points  out  to  the  dubious  fair, 
"  Observe  your  lover  when  he  leaves  your  arms ; " 
But  Juan  never  left  them — while  they  had  charms, 

LIV. 
Unless  compelled  by  Fate,  or  wave,  or  wind, 

Or  near  relations — who  are  much  the  same. 
But  here  he  was  ! — where  each  tie  that  can  bind 

Humanity  must  yield  to  steel  and  flame : 
And  he  whose  very  body  was  all  mind, 

Flung  here  by  Fate  or  Circumstance,  which  tame 
The  loftiest,  hurried  by  the  time  and  place, 
Dashed  on  like  a  spurred  blood-horse  in  a  race. 

LV. 
So  was  his  blood  stirred  while  he  found  resistance, 

As  is  the  hunter's  at  the  five-bar  gate, 
Or  double  post  and  rail,  where  the  existence 

Of  Britain's  youth  depends  upon  their  weight — 

i.  as  feminine  of  feature. — [A/.S.] 

Led  him  on — although  he  -was  the  gentlest  creature, 
As  kind  in  heart  as  feminine  of  feature. — [MS.  erased.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON    JUAN.  347 

The  lightest  being  the  safest :  at  a  distance 

He  hated  cruelty,  as  all  men  hate 
Blood,  until  heated — and  even  then  his  own 
At  times  would  curdle  o'er  some  heavy  groan. 

LVI. 
The  General  Lascy,  who  had  been  hard  pressed, 

Seeing  arrive  an  aid  so  opportune 
As  were  some  hundred  youngsters  all  abreast, 

Who  came  as  if  just  dropped  down  from  the  moon 
To  Juan,  who  was  nearest  him,  addressed 

His  thanks,  and  hopes  to  take  the  city  soon, 
Not  reckoning  him  to  be  a  "  base  Bezonian  "  l 
(As  Pistol  calls  it),  but  a  young  Livonian.2 

LVII. 
Juan,  to  whom  he  spoke  in  German,  knew 

As  much  of  German  as  of  Sanscrit,  and 
In  answer  made  an  inclination  to 

The  General  who  held  him  in  command ; 
For  seeing  one  with  ribands,  black  and  blue, 

Stars,  medals,  and  a  bloody  sword  in  hand, 
Addressing  him  in  tones  which  seemed  to  thank, 
He  recognised  an  officer  of  rank. 

LVIII. 
Short  speeches  pass  between  two  men  who  speak 

No  common  language  ;  and  besides,  in  time 
Of  war  and  taking  towns,  when  many  a  shriek 

Rings  o'er  the  dialogue,  and  many  a  crime 
Is  perpetrated  ere  a  word  can  break 

Upon  the  ear,  and  sounds  of  horror  chime 
In  like  church-bells,  with  sigh,  howl,  groan,  yell,  prayer, 
There  cannot  be  much  conversation  there. 

1.  [Pistol's  "Bezonian"  is  a  corruption  of  bisognoso — a  rogue,  needy 
fellow.      Byron,  quoting  from  memory,  confuses   two  passages.      In 
2  Henry  VI.,  act  iv.  sc.  i,  line  134,  Suffolk  says,  "Great  men  oft  die 
of  vile  bezonians ;  "  in  2  Henry  IV.,  act  v.  sc.  3,  line  112,  Pistol  says, 
"  Under  which  King,  Besonian?  speak  or  die."] 

2.  ["  Le  G^neYal  Lascy,  voyant  arriver  un  corps,  si  a-propos  &  son 
secours,  s'avanfa  vers  1'officier  qui  1'avait  conduit,  et,  le  prenant  pour 
un  Livonien,  lui  fit,  en  allemand,  les  complimens  les  plus  flatteurs ; 
le  jeune  militaire  (le  Due  de  Richelieu)  qui  parlait-parfaitement  cette 
langue,  y  repondit  avec  sa  modestie  ordinaire." — Hist,  de  la  Nou-velle 
Russie,  ii.  211.] 


DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

LIX. 
And  therefore  all  we  have  related  in 

Two  long  octaves,  passed  in  a  little  minute ; 
But  in  the  same  small  minute,  every  sin 

Contrived  to  get  itself  comprised  within  it. 
The  very  cannon,  deafened  by  the  din, 

Grew  dumb,  for  you  might  almost  hear  a  linnet, 
As  soon  as  thunder,  'midst  the  general  noise 
Of  Human  Nature's  agonizing  voice  ! 

LX. 
The  town  was  entered.     Oh  Eternity  ! — 

"  God  made  the  country,  and  man  made  the  town," 
So  Cowper  says l — and  I  begin  to  be 

Of  his  opinion,  when  I  see  cast  down 
Rome — Babylon — Tyre — Carthage — Nineveh — 

All  walls  men  know,  and  many  never  known  ; 
And  pondering  on  the  present  and  the  past, 
To  deem  the  woods  shall  be  our  home  at  last : — 

LXI. 

Of  all  men,  saving  Sylla,2  the  man-slayer, 
Who  passes  for  in  life  and  death  most  lucky, 

Of  the  great  names  which  in  our  faces  stare, 
The  General  Boon,  back-woodsman  of  Kentucky,3 

1.  [The  Task,  bk.  i.  line  749.     It  was  pointed  out  to  Cowper  that 
the  same  thought  had  been  expressed  by  Isaac  Hawkins  Browne,  in 
The  Fire-side,  a  Pastoral  Soliloquy,  lines  15,   16  (Poems,   ed.   1768, 
P-  125)— 

"  I  have  said  it  at  home,  I  have  said  it  abroad, 
That  the  town  is  Man's  world,  but  that  this  is  of  God." 

There  is  a  parallel  passage  in  M.  T.  Varro,  Rerum  Rusticarum,  lib. 
iii.  i.  4,  "Nee  mirum,  quod  divina  natura  dedit  agros,  ars  humana 
nedificavit  urbes."— See  The  Task,  etc.,  ed.  by  H.  T.  Griffith,  1896,  ii. 

234-] 

2.  [Sulla  spoke  of  himself  as  the  "fortunate,"  and   in  the  twenty- 
second  book  of  his  Commentaries,  finished  only  two  days  before  his 
death,  "he  tells  us  that  the  Chaldeans  had  predicted,  that  after  a  life 
of  glory  he  would  depart  in   the  height  of  his  prosperity."     He  was 
fortunate,  too,  with  regard   to  his  funeral,  for,  at  first,  a  brisk  wind 
blew  which  fanned  the  pile  into  flame,  and  it  was  not  till  the  fire  had 
begun  to  die  out  that  the  rain,  which  had  been  expected  throughout 
the  day,  began  to  fall  in  torrents. — Langhorne's  Plutarch,  1838,  pp. 
334,  335.     See,  too,  Ode  to  Napoleon  Buonaparte,  stanza  vii.  Poetical 

Works,  1900,  iii.  308,  note  i.] 

3.  [Daniel  Boone  (1735-1820)  was  the  grandson  of  an  English  settler, 


CANTO  VHI.]  DON  JUAN.  349 

Was  happiest  amongst  mortals  anywhere ; 

For  killing  nothing  but  a  bear  or  buck,  he 
Enjoyed  the  lonely,  vigorous,  harmless  days 
Of  his  old  age  in  wilds  of  deepest  maze. 

LXII. 
Crime  came  not  near  him — she  is  not  the  child 

Of  solitude  ;  Health  shrank  not  from  him — for 
Her  home  is  in  the  rarely  trodden  wild, 

Where  if  men  seek  her  not,  and  death  be  more 
Their  choice  than  life,  forgive  them,  as  beguiled 

By  habit  to  what  their  own  hearts  abhor — 
In  cities  caged.  The  present  case  in  point  I 
Cite  is,  that  Boon  lived  hunting  up  to  ninety ; 

George  Boone,  of  Exeter.  His  great  work  in  life  was  the  conquest  of 
Kentucky.  Following  in  the  steps  of  another  pioneer,  John  Finley,  he 
left  his  home  in  North  Carolina  in  May,  1769,  and,  after  numerous 
adventures,  effected  a  settlement  on  the  Kentucky  river.  He  con- 
structed a  fort,  which  he  named  Boonesborough,  and  carried  on  a 
protracted  campaign  with  varying  but  final  success  against  the  Indians. 
When  Kentucky  was  admitted  into  the  Union,  February  4,  1791,  he 
failed  to  make  good  his  title  to  his  property  at  Boonesborough,  and 
withdrew  to  Mount  Pleasant,  beyond  the  Ohio.  Thence,  in  1795,  he 
removed  to  Missouri,  then  a  Spanish  possession.  Napoleon  wrested 
Missouri  from  the  Spaniards,  only  to  sell  the  territory  to  the  United 
States,  with  the  result  that  in  1810  he  was  confirmed  in  the  possession 
of  850  out  of  the  8000  acres  which  he  had  acquired  in  1795.  "Boone 
was  then  seventy-five  years  of  age,  hale  and  strong.  The  charm  of  the 
hunter's  life  clung  to  him  to  the  last,  and  in  his  eighty-second  year  he 
went  on  a  hunting  excursion  to  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  river." — 
Appleton's  Encyclopedia,  etc.,  art.  "  Boone."  His  fine  and  gracious 
nature  reveals  itself  in  his  autobiography  (The  Adventures  of  Colonel 
Daniel  Boon,  Formerly  a  Hunter;  Containing  a  Narrative  of  the 
Wars  of  Kentucky ;  Imlay's  North  America,  1793,  ii.  52-54).  "One 
day,"  he  writes  (pp.  330,  sq. ),  "  I  undertook  a  tour  through  the  country, 
and  the  diversity  and  beauties  of  nature  .  .  .  expelled  every  gloomy 
and  vexatious  thought.  Just  at  the  close  of  day  the  gentle  gales 
retired,  and  left  the  place  to  the  disposal  of  a  profound  calm.  Not  a 
breeze  shook  the  most  tremulous  leaf.  I  had  gained  the  summit  of 
a  commanding  ridge,  and,  looking  round  with  astonishing  delight, 
beheld  the  ample  plains,  the  beauteous  tracts  below.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  surveyed  the  famous  river  Ohio,  that  rolled  in  silent  dignity, 
marking  the  western  boundary  of  Kentucky  with  inconceivable  grandeur. 
.  .  .  All  things  were  still.  I  kindled  a  fire  near  a  fountain  of  sweet 
water,  and  feasted  on  the  loins  of  a  buck,  which  a  few  hours  before  I 
had  killed.  .  .  .  No  populous  city,  with  all  the  varieties  of  commerce 
and  stately  structures,  could  afford  so  much  pleasure  to  my  mind  as 
the  beauties  of  nature  I  found  here."  (See,  too,  The  Kentucky  Pioneers, 
by  John  Brown,  Harper  s  i\ew  Monthly  Magazine,  1887,  vol.  Ixxv. 
pp.  48-71-)! 


35°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

LXIII. 

And,  what 's  still  stranger,  left  behind  a  name 
For  which  men  vainly  decimate  the  throng, 

Not  only  famous,  but  of  that  good  fame, 
Without  which  Glory  's  but  a  tavern  song — 

Simple,  serene,  the  antipodes  of  Shame, 

Which  Hate  nor  Envy  e'er  could  tinge  with  wrong  ; 

An  active  hermit,  even  in  age  the  child 

Of  Nature — or  the  Man  of  Ross 1  run  wild. 

LXIV. 
'T  is  true  he  shrank  from  men  even  of  his  nation, 

When  they  built  up  unto  his  darling  trees, — 
He  moved  some  hundred  miles  off,  for  a  station 

Where  there  were  fewer  houses  and  more  ease  ; 
The  inconvenience  of  civilisation 

Is,  that  you  neither  can  be  pleased  nor  please  ; 
But  where  he  met  the  individual  man, 
He  showed  himself  as  kind  as  mortal  can. 

LXV. 
He  was  not  all  alone  :  around  him  grew 

A  sylvan  tribe  of  children  of  the  chase, 
Whose  young,  unwakened  world  was  ever  new, 

Nor  sword  nor  sorrow  yet  had  left  a  trace 
On  her  unwrinkled  brow,  nor  could  you  view 

A  frown  on  Nature's  or  on  human  face ; 
The  free-born  forest  found  and  kept  them  free, 
And  fresh  as  is  a  torrent  or  a  tree. 

LXVI. 
And  tall,  and  strong,  and  swift  of  foot  were  they, 

Beyond  the  dwarfing  city's  pale  abortions, 
Because  their  thoughts  had  never  been  the  prey 

Of  care  or  gain :  the  green  woods  were  their  portions ; 
No  sinking  spirits  told  them  they  grew  grey, 

No  fashion  made  them  apes  of  her  distortions ; 
Simple  they  were,  not  savage — and  their  rifles, 
Though  very  true,  were  not  yet  used  for  trifles. 

i.  [For  John  Kyrle,  "the  Man  of  Ross"  (1635-1724),  see  Pope's 
Moral  Essays,  epist.  iii.  lines  249-284.  See,  too,  Letters  of  S.  T.  Cole- 
ridge, 1895  (letter  to  R.  Southey,  July  13,  1794),  i.  77.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON    JUAN.  351 

LXVII. 

Motion  was  in  their  days,  Rest  in  their  slumbers, 
And  Cheerfulness  the  handmaid  of  their  toil ; 

Nor  yet  too  many  nor  too  few  their  numbers ; 
Corruption  could  not  make  their  hearts  her  soil ; 

The  lust  which  stings,  the  splendour  which  encumbers, 
With  the  free  foresters  divide  no  spoil ; 

Serene,  not  sullen,  were  the  solitudes 

Of  this  unsighing  people  of  the  woods. 

LXVIII. 
So  much  for  Nature  : — by  way  of  variety, 

Now  back  to  thy  great  joys,  Civilisation  ! 
And  the  sweet  consequence  of  large  society, 

War — pestilence — the  despot's  desolation, 
The  kingly  scourge,  the  lust  of  notoriety, 

The  millions  slain  by  soldiers  for  their  ration, 
The  scenes  like  Catherine's  boudoir  at  threescore,1 
With  Ismail's  storm  to  soften  it  the  more. 

LXIX. 
The  town  was  entered  :  first  one  column  made 

Its  sanguinary  way  good — then  another ; 
The  reeking  bayonet  and  the  flashing  blade 

Clashed  'gainst  the  scimitar,  and  babe  and  mother 
With  distant  shrieks  were  heard  Heaven  to  upbraid : — 

Still  closer  sulphury  clouds  began  to  smother 
The  breath  of  morn  and  man,  where  foot  by  foot 
The  maddened  Turks  their  city  still  dispute. 

LXX. 
Koutousow,2  he  who  afterwards  beat  back 

(With  some  assistance  from  the  frost  and  snow) 

i.  [Byron  seems  to  have  derived  his  knowledge  of  Catherine's  vie 
intlme  from  the  Mimoires  Secrets  sur  la  Russie,  of  C.  F.  P.  Masson, 
which  were  published  in  Amsterdam  in  1800,  and  translated  into 
English  in  the  same  year.] 

z.  [Michailo  Smolenskoi  Koutousof  (1743-1813),  who  was  raised  to 
eminence  through  the  influence  of  Potemkin,  was  in  command  of  the 
Austro- Russian  Army  at  Austerlitz.  During  the  retreat  from  Moscow 
he  repulsed  Napoleon  at  Malo-yaroslavetz,  and  pursued  the  French 
to  Kalisz.  Tolstoi  introduces  Koutousof  in  his  novel,  War  and  Peace, 
and  dwells  on  his  fatalism.] 


35 2  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

Napoleon  on  his  bold  and  bloody  track, 

It  happened  was  himself  beat  back  just  now  : 

He  was  a  jolly  fellow,  and  could  crack 
His  jest  alike  in  face  of  friend  or  foe, 

Though  Life,  and  Death,  and  Victory  were  at  stake ; l 

But  here  it  seemed  his  jokes  had  ceased  to  take  : 

LXXI. 
For  having  thrown  himself  into  a  ditch, 

Followed  in  haste  by  various  grenadiers, 
Whose  blood  the  puddle  greatly  did  enrich, 

He  climbed  to  where  the  parapet  appears ; 
But  there  his  project  reached  its  utmost  pitch 

('Mongst  other  deaths  the  General  Ribaupierre's 
Was  much  regretted),  for  the  Moslem  men 
Threw  them  all  down  into  the  ditch  again.2 

LXXII. 
And  had  it  not  been  for  some  stray  troops  landing 

They  knew  not  where,  being  carried  by  the  stream 
To  some  spot,  where  they  lost  their  understanding, 

And  wandered  up  and  down  as  in  a  dream, 
Until  they  reached,  as  daybreak  was  expanding, 

That  which  a  portal  to  their  eyes  did  seem, — 
The  great  and  gay  Koutousow  might  have  lain 
Where  three  parts  of  his  column  yet  remain.3 

LXXIII. 

And  scrambling  round  the  rampart,  these  same  troops, 
After  the  taking  of  the  "  Cavalier," 4 

1.  ["  Parmi  les  colonnes,  une  de  celles  qui  souffrirent  le  plus  6tait 
commande'e    par    le    geWral    Koutouzow    (aujourd'hui    Prince    de 
Smolensko).     Ce  brave  militaire  reunit  I'intre'pidite^  a  un  grand  nombre 
de  connaissances  acquises  ;  il  marche  au  feu  avec  la  meme  gafet6  qu'il 
va  a  une  fete  ;  il  sail  commander  avec  autant  de  sang  froid  qu'il  de"ploie 
d'esprit  et  d'amabilit£  dans  le  commerce  habituel  de  la  vie." — Hist,  de 
/a  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  212.] 

2.  ["Ce  brave  Koutouzow  se  jeta  dans  le  foss6,  fut  suivi  des  siens, 
et  ne  p6n6tra  jusqu'au   haul   du   parapet   qu'apres  avoir  6prouv6  des 
difficultes  incroyables.     (Le  brigadier  de  Ribaupierre  perdit  la  vie  dans 
cette  occasion  :  il  avail  fix6  1'estime  generate,  et  sa  mort   occasionna 
beaucoup  de  regrets. )     Les  Turcs  accoururent  en  grand  nombre  ;  cette 
multitude  repoussa  deux  fois  le  ge'neial  jusqu'au  fossd." — Ibid. ,  p.  212.] 

3.  ["Quelques  troupes  russes,  emport^es  par  le  courant,  n'ayant  pu 
d6barquer  sur  le  terrain  qu'on  leur  avail  present,"  etc. — Ibid. ,  p.  213.] 

4.  [A  "  Cavalier"  is  an  elevation  of  earth,  situated  ordinarily  in  the 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  353 

Just  as  Koutousow's  most  "  forlorn  "  of  "  hopes  " 
Took,  like  chameleons,  some  slight  tinge  of  fear, 

Opened  the  gate  called  "  Kilia,"  to  the  groups l 
Of  baffled  heroes,  who  stood  shyly  near, 

Sliding  knee-deep  in  lately  frozen  mud, 

Now  thawed  into  a  marsh  of  human  blood. 

LXXIV. 

The  Kozacks,  or,  if  so  you  please,  Cossacques — 
(I  don't  much  pique  myself  upon  orthography, 

So  that  I  do  not  grossly  err  in  facts, 

Statistics,  tactics,  politics,  and  geography) — 

Having  been  used  to  serve  on  horses'  backs, 
And  no  great  dilettanti  in  topography 

Of  fortresses,  but  fighting  where  it  pleases 

Their  chiefs  to  order, — were  all  cut  to  pieces.2 

LXXV. 
Their  column,  though  the  Turkish  batteries  thundered 

Upon  them,  ne'ertheless  had  reached  the  rampart,3 
And  naturally  thought  they  could  have  plundered 

The  city,  without  being  farther  hampered ; 
But  as  it  happens  to  brave  men,  they  blundered — 

The  Turks  at  first  pretended  to  have  scampered, 
Only  to  draw  them  'twixt  two  bastion  corners,4 
From  whence  they  sallied  on  those  Christian  scorners. 

LXXVI. 
Then  being  taken  by  the  tail — a  taking 

Fatal  to  bishops  as  to  soldiers — these  '• 
Cossacques  were  all  cut  off  as  day  was  breaking, 

And  found  their  lives  were  let  at  a  short  lease — 

i.  Fatal  to  warriors  as  to  women — these. — \MS.~\ 

gorge  of  a  bastion,  bordered  with  a  parapet,  and  cut  into  more  or 
fewer  embrasures,  according  to  its  capacity." — Milit.  Diet.'] 

i.["...  longerent  le  rempart,  apres  la  prise  du  cavalier,  et  ouvri- 
rent  la  porte  dite  de  Kilia  aux  soldats  du  general  Koutouzow." — Hist, 
de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  213.] 

2.  ["II  etait  reserve  aux  Kozaks  de  combler  de  leurs  corps  la  partie 
du  foss£  oil  ils  combattaient ;  leur  colonne  avail  ete  divisee  entre  MM. 
Platow  et  d1  Orlow  .   .    "—Ibid.,  p.  213.] 

3.  [" ...  la  premiere  partie,  devant  se  joindre  a  la  gauche  du  general 
Arseniew,  fut  foudroy^e  par  le  feu  des  batteries,  et  parvint  neanmoins 
au  haul  du  rempart." — Ibid.,  p.  213.] 

4.  ["  Les  Turcs  la  laisserent  un  peu  s'avancer,  dans  la  ville,  et  firent 
deux  sorties  par  les  angles  saillans  des  bastions." — Ibid.,  p.  213.] 

VOL.  VI.  2    A 


354  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

But  perished  without  shivering  or  shaking, 

Leaving  as  ladders  their  heaped  carcasses, 
O'er  which  Lieutenant-Colonel  Yesouskoi 
Marched  with  the  brave  battalion  of  Polouzki : — l 

LXXVII. 
This  valiant  man  killed  all  the  Turks  he  met, 

But  could  not  eat  them,  being  in  his  turn 
Slain  by  some  Mussulmans,2  who  would  not  yet, 

Without  resistance,  see  their  city  burn. 
The  walls  were  won,  but 't  was  an  even  bet 

Which  of  the  armies  would  have  cause  to  mourn  : 
'T  was  blow  for  blow,  disputing  inch  by  inch, 
For  one  would  not  retreat,  nor  't  other  flinch. 

LXXVIII. 
Another  column  also  suffered  much  : — 

And  here  we  may  remark  with  the  historian, 
You  should  but  give  few  cartridges  to  such 

Troops  as  are  meant  to  march  with  greatest  glory  on  : 
When  matters  must  be  carried  by  the  touch 

Of  the  bright  bayonet,  and  they  all  should  hurry  on ; 
They  sometimes,  with  a  hankering  for  existence, 
Keep  merely  firing  at  a  foolish  distance.3 

LXXIX. 
A  junction  of  the  General  Meknop's  men 

(Without  the  General,  who  had  fallen  some  time 

1.  ["Alors,  se  trouvant  prise  en  queue,  elle  fut  e'crase'e;  cependant 
le  Lieutenant-colonel  Yesouskoi,  qui  commandait  la  reserve  composed 
d'un  bataillon  du  regiment  de  Polozk,  traversa  le  fossd  sur  les  cadavres 
des  Kozaks  .   .  ." — Hist,  de  la.  Nouvell  Russie,  ii.  212.] 

2.  [" .  .  .  et  extermina  tous  les  Turcs  qu'il  cut  en  tete :   ce  brave 
homme  fut  tu6  pendant  1'action." — Ibid. ,  p.  213.] 

3.  ["  L'autre  partie  des  Kozaks,  qu'  Orlow  commandait,  souffrit  de 
la  maniere  la  plus  cruelle  :  elle  attaqua  a  maintes  reprises,  fut  souvent 
repousse'e,   et  perdit  les  deux  tiers  de  son  monde  (c'est  ici  le  lieu 
de  placer  une  observation,  que  nous  prenons  dans  les  me'moires  qui 
nous  guident ;   elle  fait  remarquer  combien  il  est  mal  vu  de  donner 
beaucoup  de  cartouches  aux  soldats  qui  doivent  emporter  un  poste  de 
vive  force,  et  par  consequent  oil  la  bai'onnette  doit  principalement  agir  ; 
ils  pensent  ne  devoir  se  servir  de  cette  derniere  arme,  que  lorsque  les 
cartouches  sont  e'puise'es :    dans  cette  persuasion,  ils  retardent  leur 
marche,  et  restent  plus  long-temps  exposes  au  canon  et  a  la  mitraille  de 
I'ennemi)." — Ibid.,  p.  214.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  355 

Before,  being  badly  seconded  just  then) 

Was  made  at  length  with  those  who  dared  to  climb 

The  death-disgorging  rampart  once  again  ; 

And,  though  the  Turk's  resistance  was  sublime, 

They  took  the  bastion,  which  the  Seraskier 

Defended  at  a  price  extremely  dear.1 

LXXX. 
Juan  and  Johnson,  and  some  volunteers, 

Among  the  foremost,  offered  him  good  quarter, 
A  word  which  little  suits  with  Seraskiers, 

Or  at  least  suited  not  this  valiant  Tartar. 
He  died,  deserving  well  his  country's  tears, 

A  savage  sort  of  military  martyr : 
An  English  naval  officer,  who  wished 
To  make  him  prisoner,  was  also  dished : 

LXXXI. 

For  all  the  answer  to  his  proposition 

Was  from  a  pistol-shot  that  laid  him  dead ; 2 

On  which  the  rest,  without  more  intermission, 
Began  to  lay  about  with  steel  and  lead — 

The  pious  metals  most  in  requisition 
On  such  occasions :  not  a  single  head 

Was  spared ; — three  thousand  Moslems  perished  here, 

And  sixteen  bayonets  pierced  the  Seraskier.3 

LXXXII. 

The  city  's  taken — only  part  by  part — 

And  Death  is  drunk  with  gore  :  there  's  not  a  street 
Where  fights  not  to  the  last  some  desperate  heart 

For  those  for  whom  it  soon  shall  cease  to  beat.4 

1.  ["La  jonction  de  la  colonne  de  Meknop — (le  gdneYal  fut  mal 
second^  et  tu£) — ne  put  s'effectuer  avec  celle  qui  1'avoisinait,  .  .  .  ces 
colonnes  attaquerent  un  bastion,  et  e'prouverent  une  resistance  opiniatre ; 
mais  bientot  des  cris  de  victoire  se  font  entendre  de  toutes  parts,  et 
le  bastion  est  emporte' :  le  seYaskier  deTendait  cette  partie." — Hist,  de 
la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  214.] 

2.  [".  .  .  un  officier  de  marine  Anglais  veut  le  faire  prisonnier,  et 
re9oit  un  coup  de  pistolet  qui  I'e'tend  roide  mort." — Ibid.,  p.  214.] 

3.  ["  Les  Russes  passent  trois  nulle  Turcs  au  fil  de  I'e'pe'e ;    seize 
baionnettes  percent  a  la  fois  le  se"raskier." — Ibid.,  p.  214.] 

4.  ["La  ville  est  emporte'e ;  1'image  de  la  mort  et  de  la  desolation 
se  repre'sente  de  tous  les  cote's  ;  le  soldat  furieux  n'e'coute  plus  la  voix 


35  6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

Here  War  forgot  his  own  destructive  art 

In  more  destroying  Nature ;  and  the  heat 
Of  Carnage,  like  the  Nile's  sun-sodden  slime, 
Engendered  monstrous  shapes  of  every  crime. 

LXXXIII. 
A  Russian  officer,  in  martial  tread 

Over  a  heap  of  bodies,  felt  his  heel 
Seized  fast,  as  if 't  were  by  the  serpent's  head 

Whose  fangs  Eve  taught  her  human  seed  to  feel ; 
In  vain  he  kicked,  and  swore,  and  writhed,  and  bled, 

And  howled  for  help  as  wolves  do  for  a  meal — 
The  teeth  still  kept  their  gratifying  hold, 
As  do  the  subtle  snakes  described  of  old.'- 

LXXXIV. 
A  dying  Moslem,  who  had  felt  the  foot 

Of  a  foe  o'er  him,  snatched  at  it,  and  bit 
The  very  tendon  which  is  most  acute — 

(That  which  some  ancient  Muse  or  modern  wit 
Named  after  thee,  Achilles  !)  and  quite  through  't 

He  made  the  teeth  meet,  nor  relinquished  it 
Even  with  his  life — for  (but  they  lie)  't  is  said 
To  the  live  leg  still  clung  the  severed  head. 

LXXXV. 
However  this  may  be,  't  is  pretty  sure 

The  Russian  officer  for  life  was  lamed, 
For  the  Turk's  teeth  stuck  faster  than  a  skewer, 

And  left  him  'midst  the  invalid  and  maimed : 
The  regimental  surgeon  could  not  cure 

His  patient,  and,  perhaps,  was  to  .be  blamed 
More  than  the  head  of  the  inveterate  foe, 
Which  was  cut  off,  and  scarce  even  then  let  go. 

LXXXVI. 
But  then  the  fact 's  a  fact — and  't  is  the  part 

Of  a  true  poet  to  escape  from  fiction 
Whene'er  he  can ;  for  there  is  little  art 

In  leaving  verse  more  free  from  the  restriction 

i.  As  do  the  subtle  snake  s  denounced  of  old. — [A/5.] 

de  ses  officiers,  il  ne  respire  que  le  carnage ;  alteYd  de  sang,  tout  est 
indifferent  pour  lui." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvellc  Russie,  ii.  214.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON    JUAN.  357 

Of  Truth  than  prose,  unless  to  suit  the  mart 

For  what  is  sometimes  called  poetic  diction, 
And  that  outrageous  appetite  for  lies 
Which  Satan  angles  with  for  souls,  like  flies.'- 

LXXXVII. 
The  city  's  taken,  but  not  rendered  ! — No  ! 

There  's  not  a  Moslem  that  hath  yielded  sword  : 
The  blood  may  gush  out,  as  the  Danube's  flow 

Rolls  by  the  city  wall ;  but  deed  nor  word 
Acknowledge  aught  of  dread  of  Death  or  foe  : 

In  vain  the  yell  of  victory  is  roared 
By  the  advancing  Muscovite — the  groan 
Of  the  last  foe  is  echoed  by  his  own. 

LXXXVIII. 
The  bayonet  pierces  and  the  sabre  cleaves, 

And  human  lives  are  lavished  everywhere, 
As  the  year  closing  whirls  the  scarlet  leaves  "• 

When  the  stripped  forest  bows  to  the  bleak  air, 
And  groans ;  and  thus  the  peopled  city  grieves, 

Shorn  of  its  best  and  loveliest,  and  left  bare ; 
But  still  it  falls  in  vast  and  awful  splinters, 
As  oaks  blown  down  with  all  their  thousand  winters. 

LXXXIX. 
It  is  an  awful  topic — but 't  is  not 

My  cue  for  any  time  to  be  terrific : 
For  checkered  as  is  seen  our  human  lot 

With  good,  and  bad,  and  worse,  alike  prolific 
Of  melancholy  merriment,  to  quote 

Too  much  of  one  sort  would  be  soporific ; — 
Without,  or  with,  offence  to  friends  or  foes, 
I  sketch  your  world  exactly  as  it  goes. 

xc. 

And  one  good  action  in  the  midst  of  crimes 
Is  "  quite  refreshing,"  in  the  affected  phrase l 

i.    Which  most  of  all  doth  man  characterize. — 

[MS.     Alternative  reading.} 
ii.  As  Autumn  winds  disperse  the  yellow  leaves. — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  [See  The  Blues,  eel.   i.  line  25,  Poetical  Works,  1901,    iv.  574, 


358  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

Of  these  ambrosial,  Pharisaic  times, 

With  all  their  pretty  milk-and-water  ways, 

And  may  serve  therefore  to  bedew  these  rhymes, 
A  little  scorched  at  present  with  the  blaze 

Of  conquest  and  its  consequences,  which 

Make  Epic  poesy  so  rare  and  rich. 

xci. 
Upon  a  taken  bastion,  where  there  lay 

Thousands  of  slaughtered  men,  a  yet  warm  group 
Of  murdered  women,  who  had  found  their  way 

To  this  vain  refuge,  made  the  good  heart  droop 
And  shudder ; — while,  as  beautiful  as  May, 

A  female  child  of  ten  years  tried  to  stoop 
And  hide  her  little  palpitating  breast 
Amidst  the  bodies  lulled  in  bloody  rest.1 

xcn. 
Two  villanous  Cossacques  pursued  the  child 

With  flashing  eyes  and  weapons :  matched  with  /hem, 
The  rudest  brute  that  roams  Siberia's  wild 

Has  feelings  pure  and  polished  as  a  gem, — 
The  bear  is  civilised,  the  wolf  is  mild ; 

And  whom  for  this  at  last  must  we  condemn  ? 
Their  natures  ?  or  their  sovereigns,  who  employ 
All  arts  to  teach  their  subjects  to  destroy  ? 

XCIII. 

Their  sabres  glittered  o'er  her  little  head, 

Whence  her  fair  hair  rose  twining  with  affright, 

Her  hidden  face  was  plunged  amidst  the  dead  : 
When  Juan  caught  a  glimpse  of  this  sad  sight, 

I  shall  not  say  exactly  what  he  said, 

Because  it  might  not  solace  "  ears  polite ; "  2 

1.  ["Je  sauvai  la  vie  a  une  fille  de  dix  ans,  dont  1'innocence  ct  la 
candeur  formaient  un  contraste  bien  frappant  avec  la  rage  de  tout  ce 
qui  m'environnait.    En  arrivant  sur  le  bastion  ou  commen9a  le  carnage, 
j'apercus  un   groupe  de  quatre  femmes  e'gorgfes,  entre  lesquelles  cet 
enfant,  d'une  figure  charmante,  cherchait  un  asile  contre  la  fureur  de 
deux    Kozaks   qui   eiaient   sur  le  point   de  la   massacrer." — Due   de 
Richelieu.     (See  Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  217.)] 

2.  ["  Who  never  mentions  Hell  to  ears  polite." — Pope,  Moral  Essays, 
ep.  iv.  line  150:] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  359 

But  what  he  did^  was  to  lay  on  their  backs, 
The  readiest  way  of  reasoning  with  Cossacques. 

xciv. 
One's  hip  he  slashed,  and  split  the  other's  shoulder, 

And  drove  them  with  their  brutal  yells  to  seek 
If  there  might  be  chirurgeons  who  could  solder 

The  wounds  they  richly  merited,1  and  shriek 
Their  baffled  rage  and  pain  ;  while  waxing  colder 

As  he  turned  o'er  each  pale  and  gory  cheek, 
Don  Juan  raised  his  little  captive  from 
The  heap  a  moment  more  had  made  her  tomb. 

xcv. 
And  she  was  chill  as  they,  and  on  her  face 

A  slender  streak  of  blood  announced  how  near 
Her  fate  had  been  to  that  of  all  her  race ; 

For  the  same  blow  which  laid  her  mother  here 
Had  scarred  her  brow,  and  left  its  crimson  trace, 

As  the  last  link  with  all  she  had  held  dear ; 2 
But  else  unhurt,  she  opened  her  large  eyes, 
And  gazed  on  Juan  with  a  wild  surprise. 

xcvi. 

Just  at  this  instant,  while  their  eyes  were  fixed 
Upon  each  other,  with  dilated  glance, 

1.  ["Ce  spectacle  m'attira  bient6t,  et  je  n'he"sitai  pas,  comme  on 
peut  le  croire,  a,  prendre  entre  mes  bras  cette  infortune'e,  que  les  bar- 
bares  voulaient  y  poursuivre  encore.      J'eus  bien  de  la  peine  a.  me 
retenir  et  a,  ne  pas  percer  ces  mise'rables  du  sabre  que  je  tenais  suspendu 
sur  leur  t^te  : — je  me  contentai  cependant  de  les  61oigner,  non  sans  leur 
prodiguer   les  coups  et   les  injures  qu'ils   meYitaient.  .  .  ." — Due   de 
Richelieu,  vide  Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Kussie,  ii.  217.] 

2.  ["  .  .  .  J'eus   le  plaisir  d'aper9evoir   que   ma   petite   prisonniere 
n'avait  d'autre  mal  qu'une  coupure  legere  que  lui  avail  faite  au  visage 
le  mSme  fer  qui  avail  perc£  sa  mere." — Due  de  Richelieu,  ibid. 

The  Turks  clamoured  for  the  child,  and  Richelieu  was  forced  to  give 
way.  But  in  the  original  the  story  ends  unhappily. 

' '  Je  fus  oblig6  de  ce"der  a.  leurs  instances  et  a  celles  de  I'officier  qui 
parlementail  avec  eux  ;  .  .  .  ce  ne  fut  pas  sans  de  grandes  difficulty's 
et  sans  une  promesse  expresse  de  la  part  de  cet  officier  [Colonel 
Ribas]  de  me  la  faire  rendre  aussitot  que  les  Turcs  auraient  mis  has 
les  armes.  Je  me  s6parai  done  de  cet  enfant  qui  m'e"tait  de"j£  devenu 
tres-cher,  et  rngme  a  present,  je  ne  puis  penser  a  ce  moment  sans 
amertume,  puisque  malgre'  toutes  les  recherches  et  les  peines  que  je  me 
donnai  pour  la  retrouver,  il  me  fut  impossible  d'y  re"ussir,  et  je  n'ai  que 
trop  sujet  de  craindre  qu'elle  n'ait  peYi  malheureusement, " — Socilff 
Imperials  dHistoire  de  Rvssie,  torn,  liv.  p.  185.] 


360  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

In  Juan's  look,  pain,  pleasure,  hope,  fear,  mixed 
With  joy  to  save,  and  dread  of  some  mischance 

Unto  his  protege'e ;  while  hers,  transfixed 
With  infant  terrors,  glared  as  from  a  trance, 

A  pure,  transparent,  pale,  yet  radiant  face, 

Like  to  a  lighted  alabaster  vase  : —  1 

xcvn. 
Up  came  John  Johnson  (I  will  not  say  "Jack" 

For  that  were  vulgar,  cold,  and  common-place 
On  great  occasions,  such  as  an  attack 

On  cities,  as  hath  been  the  present  case) : 
Up  Johnson  came,  with  hundreds  at  his  back, 

Exclaiming — "  Juan  !  Juan  !     On,  boy  !  brace 
Your  arm,  and  I  '11  bet  Moscow  to  a  dollar, 
That  you  and  I  will  win  St.  George's  collar.2 

XCVIII. 

"  The  Seraskier  is  knocked  upon  the  head, 

But  the  stone  bastion  still  remains,  wherein 
The  old  Pacha  sits  among  some  hundreds  dead, 

Smoking  his  pipe  quite  calmly  'midst  the  din 
Of  our  artillery  and  his  own  :  't  is  said 

Our  killed,  already  piled  up  to  the  chin, 
Lie  round  the  battery ;  but  still  it  batters, 
And  grape  in  volleys,  like  a  vineyard,  scatters. 

xcix. 
"  Then  up  with  me  ! " — But  Juan  answered,  "  Look 

Upon  this  child — I  saved  her — must  not  leave 
Her  life  to  chance ;  but  point  me  out  some  nook 

Of  safety,  where  she  less  may  shrink  and  grieve, 
And  I  am  with  you." — Whereon  Johnson  took 

A  glance   around — and   shrugged — and  twitched  his 
sleeve 

1.  [Sir  Walter  Scott  (Quarterly  Review,  October,  1816,  vol.  xvi.  p. 
177)  says  that  a  "brother-poet"  compared  Byron's   features  to   the 
sculpture  of  a  beautiful  alabaster  vase,  only  seen  to  perfection  when 
lighted   up   from   within.      Byron  alludes   to  this  comparison   in  his 
Detached  Thoughts,  October  15,  1821,  Letters,  1901,  v.  408.     It  may  be 
noted  that  Lorenzo  Bartolini,  the  Italian  sculptor  who  took  a  bust  of 
Byron  at  Pisa,  in  the  spring  of  1822,  had  been  employed  by  Napoleon, 
in  1814,  to  design  marble  vases  for  a  terrace  at  Elba,  which  were  to  be 
illuminated  at  night  "  from  within."] 

2.  A  Russian  military  order. 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  361 

And  black  silk  neckcloth— and  replied,  "  You  're  right ; 
Poor  thing  !  what 's  to  be  done  ?  I'm  puzzled  quite." 

c. 
Said  Juan — "  Whatsoever  is  to  be 

Done,  I  '11  not  quit  her  till  she  seems  secure 
Of  present  life  a  good  deal  more  than  we."— 

Quoth  Johnson — "  Neither  will  I  quite  insure  ; 
But  at  the  least  you  may  die  gloriously." — 

Juan  replied — "  At  least  I  will  endure 
Whate'er  is  to  be  borne — but  not  resign 
This  child,  who  is  parentless,  and  therefore  mine." 

ci. 
Johnson  said — "  Juan,  we  've  no  time  to  lose ; 

The  child  's  a  pretty  child — a  very  pretty — 
I  never  saw  such  eyes — but  hark  !  now  choose 

Between  your  fame  and  feelings,  pride  and  pity  : — 
Hark  !  how  the  roar  increases  ! — no  excuse 

Will  serve  when  there  is  plunder  in  a  city ; — 
I  should  be  loath  to  march  without  you,  but, 
By  God  !  we  '11  be  too  late  for  the  first  cut." 

en. 
But  Juan  was  immovable  ;  until 

Johnson,  who  really  loved  him  in  his  way, 
Picked  out  amongst  his  followers  with  some  skill 

Such  as  he  thought  the  least  given  up  to  prey, 
And,  swearing,  if  the  infant  came  to  ill 

That  they  should  all  be  shot  on  the  next  day, — 
But  if  she  were  delivered  safe  and  sound, 
They  should  at  least  have  fifty  rubles  round, 

cm. 
And  all  allowances  besides  of  plunder 

In  fair  proportion  with  their  comrades ; — then 
Juan  consented  to  march  on  through  thunder, 

Which  thinned  at  every  step  their  ranks  of  men  : 
And  yet  the  rest  rushed  eagerly — no  wonder, 

For  they  were  heated  by  the  hope  of  gain, 
A  thing  which  happens  everywhere  each  day — 
No  hero  trusteth  wholly  to  half  pay. 


362  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

civ.         • 
And  such  is  Victory,  and  such  is  Man  ! 

At  least  nine  tenths  of  what  we  call  so  : — God 
May  have  another  name  for  half  we  scan 

As  human  beings,  or  his  ways  are  odd. 
But  to  our  subject :  a  brave  Tartar  Khan — 

Or  "  Sultan,"  as  the  author  (to  whose  nod 
In  prose  I  bend  my  humble  verse)  doth  call 
This  chieftain — somehow  would  not  yield  at  all : 

cv. 
But  flanked  ^  five  brave  sons  (such  is  polygamy, 

That  she  spawns  warriors  by  the  score,  where  none 
Are  prosecuted  for  that  false  crime  bigamy), 

He  never  would  believe  the  city  won 
While  Courage  clung  but  to  a  single  twig. — Am  I 

Describing  Priam's,  Peleus',  or  Jove's  son  ? 
Neither — but  a  good,  plain,  old,  temperate  man, 
Who  fought  with  his  five  children  in  the  van.1 

CVI. 

To  take  him  was  the  point. — The  truly  brave, 

When  they  behold  the  brave  oppressed  with  odds, 

Are  touched  with  a  desire  to  shield  and  save ; — 
A  mixture  of  wild  beasts  and  demi-gods 

Are  they — now  furious  as  the  sweeping  wave, 
Now  moved  with  pity :  even  as  sometimes  nods 

The  rugged  tree  unto  the  summer  wind, 

Compassion  breathes  along  the  savage  mind. 

cvn. 

But  he  would  not  be  taken,  and  replied 

To  all  the  propositions  of  surrender 
By  mowing  Christians  down  on  every  side, 

As  obstinate  as  Swedish  Charles  at  Bender.2 

1.  ["  Le  sultan  pe"rit  dans  1'action  en  brave  homme,  digne  d'un 
meilleur  destin  ;  ce  fut  lui  qui  rallia  les  Turcs  lorsque  1'ennemi  pe'ne'tra 
dans  la  place  .  .  .  ce  sultan,  d'une  valeur  e'prouve'e,  surpassait  en  ge'ne'- 
rosite'  les  plus  civilise's  de  sa  nation  ;  cinq  de  ses  fils  combattaient  a  ses 
cote's,  il  les  encourageait  par  son  exemple." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle 
Russie,  ii.  215.] 

2.  ["When  Charles  XII.  reached  Bender,  August  r,  1709,  he  re- 
fused, in  the  first  instance,  to  cross  the  river  Dniester,  and  on  yielding 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  363 

His  five  brave  boys  no  less  the  foe  defied  ; 

Whereon  the  Russian  pathos  grew  less  tender 
As  being  a  virtue,  like  terrestrial  patience,' 
Apt  to  wear  out  on  trifling  provocations. 

CVIII. 

And  spite  of  Johnson  and  of  Juan,  who 
Expended  all  their  Eastern  phraseology 

In  begging  him,  for  God's  sake,  just  to  show 
So  much  less  fight  as  might  form  an  apology 

For  them  in  saving  such  a  desperate  foe — 
He  hewed  away,  like  Doctors  of  Theology 

When  they  dispute  with  sceptics ;  and  with  curses 

Struck  at  his  friends,  as  babies  beat  their  nurses. 

cix. 
Nay,  he  had  wounded,  though  but  slightly,  both 

Juan  and  Johnson ;  whereupon  they  fell, 
The  first  with  sighs,  the  second  with  an  oath, 

Upon  his  angry  Sultanship,  pell-mell, 
And  all  around  were  grown  exceeding  wroth 

At  such  a  pertinacious  infidel, 
And  poured  upon  him  and  his  sons  like  rain, 
Which  they  resisted  like  a  sandy  plain 

ex. 

That  drinks  and  still  is  dry.     At  last  they  perished — 
His  second  son  was  levelled  by  a  shot ; 

His  third  was  sabred ;  and  the  fourth,  most  cherished 
Of  all  the  five,  on  bayonets  met  his  lot ; 

The  fifth,  who,  by  a  Christian  mother  nourished, 
Had  been  neglected,  ill-used,  and  what  not, 

Because  deformed,  yet  died  all  game  and  bottom,1'- 

To  save  a  Sire  who  blushed  that  he  begot  him. 

i.  like  celestial  patience. — [MS.  erased.] 

ii.  Because  a  hunch-back . — [MS.  erased.] 

to  the  representations  of  the  Turks,  he  declined  to  enter  the  town,  but 
decided  on  remaining  encamped  on  an  island,  in  spite  of  the  assurances 
of  the  inhabitants  that  it  was  occasionally  flooded."  But,  perhaps, 
Byron  had  in  mind  Voltaire's  remarks  on  Charles's  Opiniatretf.  (See 
Histoire  de  Charles  XII.,  1772,  p.  377.  See,  too,  Charles  XII.,  by 
Oscar  Browning,  1899,  pp.  231-234.)] 


364  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

CXI. 

The  eldest  was  a  true  and  tameless  Tartar, 

As  great  a  scorner  of  the  Nazarene 
As  ever  Mahomet  picked  out  for  a  martyr, 

Who  only  saw  the  black-eyed  girls  in  green, 
Who  make  the  beds  of  those  who  won't  take  quarter 

On  earth,  in  Paradise ;  and  when  once  seen, 
Those  houris,  like  all  other  pretty  creatures, 
Do  just  whate'er  they  please,  by  dint  of  features. 

cxn. 
And  what  they  pleased  to  do  with  the  young  Khan 

In  Heaven  I  know  not,  nor  pretend  to  guess ; 
But  doubtless  they  prefer  a  fine  young  man 

To  tough  old  heroes,  and  can  do  no  less ; i- 
And  that 's  the  cause  no  doubt  why,  if  we  scan 

A  field  of  battle's  ghastly  wilderness, 
For  one  rough,  weather-beaten,  veteran  body, 
You  '11  find  ten  thousand  handsome  coxcombs  bloody. 

cxni. 
Your  houris  also  have  a  natural  pleasure 

In  lopping  off  your  lately  married  men, 
Before  the  bridal  hours  have  danced  their  measure 

And  the  sad,  second  moon  grows  dim  again, 
Or  dull  Repentance  hath  had  dreary  leisure 

To  wish  him  back  a  bachelor  now  and  then  : 
And  thus  your  Houri  (it  may  be)  disputes 
Of  these  brief  blossoms  the  immediate  fruits. 

CXIV. 

Thus  the  young  Khan,  with  Houris  in  his  sight, 
Thought  not  upon  the  charms  of  four  young  brides, 

But  bravely  rushed  on  his  first  heavenly  night. 
In  short,  howe'er  our  better  faith  derides, 

These  black-eyed  virgins  make  the  Moslems  fight, 

As  though  there  were  one  Heaven  and  none  besides — 

Whereas,  if  all  be  true  we  hear  of  Heaven 

And  Hell,  there  must  at  least  be  six  or  seven. 

i.  In  battle  to  old  age  and  ugliness.— [MS.  erased.} 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  365 

CXV. 

So  fully  flashed  the  phantom  on  his  eyes, 
That  when  the  very  lance  was  in  his  heart, 

He  shouted  "  Allah  ! "  and  saw  Paradise 
With  all  its  veil  of  mystery  drawn  apart, 

And  bright  Eternity  without  disguise 

On  his  soul,  like  a  ceaseless  sunrise,  dart  :— 

With  Prophets — Houris — Angels — Saints,  descried 

In  one  voluptuous  blaze, — and  then  he  died, —  '• 

cxvi. 
But  with  a  heavenly  rapture  on  his  face. 

The  good  old  Khan,  who  long  had  ceased  to  see 
Houris,  or  aught  except  his  florid  race, 

Who  grew  like  cedars  round  him  gloriously — 
When  he  beheld  his  latest  hero  grace 

The  earth,  which  he  became  like  a  felled  tree, 
Paused  for  a  moment  from  the  fight,  and  cast 
A  glance  on  that  slain  son,  his  first  and  last. 

cxvn. 
The  soldiers,  who  beheld  him  drop  his  point, 

Stopped  as  if  once  more  willing  to  concede 
Quarter,  in  case  he  bade  them  not  "  aroynt ! " 

As  he  before  had  done.     He  did  not  heed 
Their  pause  nor  signs  :  his  heart  was  out  of  joint, 

And  shook  (till  now  unshaken)  like  a  reed, 
As  he  looked  down  upon  his  children  gone, 
And  felt — though  done  with  life — he  was  alone.1 

CXVIII. 

But 't  was  a  transient  tremor: — with  a  spring 
Upon  the  Russian  steel  his  breast  he  flung, 

As  carelessly  as  hurls  the  moth  her  wing 

Against  the  light  wherein  she  dies  :  he  clung 

i.  In  one  immortal  glance,  and  then  he  died. — [MS.  erased^] 

i.  ["  Tous  cinq  furent  tous  tu£s  sous  ces  yeux :  il  ne  cessa  point 
de  se  battre,  nSpondit  par  des  coups  de  sabre  aux  propositions  de  se 
rendre,  et  ne  fut  atteint  du  coup  mortal  qu'  apres  avoir  abattu  de  sa 
main  beaucoup  de  Kozaks  des  plus  acharne's  a  sa  prise ;  le  reste  de 
sa  troupe  fut  massacre1." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  215.] 


366  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vm. 

Closer,  that  all  the  deadlier  they  might  wring, 

Unto  the  bayonets  which  had  pierced  his  young  ; 
And  throwing  back  a  dim  look  on  his  sons, 
In  one  wide  wound  poured  forth  his  soul  at  once. 

cxix. 
'T  is  strange  enough — the  rough,  tough  soldiers,  who 

Spared  neither  sex  nor  age  in  their  career 
Of  carnage,  when  this  old  man  was  pierced  through, 

And  lay  before  them  with  his  children  near, 
Touched  by  the  heroism  of  him  they  slew, 

Were  melted  for  a  moment ;  though  no  tear 
Flowed  from  their  bloodshot  eyes,  all  red  with  strife, 
They  honoured  such  determined  scorn  of  Life. 

cxx. 

But  the  stone  bastion  still  kept  up  its  fire, 
Where  the  chief  Pacha  calmly  held  his  post : 

Some  twenty  times  he  made  the  Russ  retire, 
And  baffled  the  assaults  of  all  their  host ; 

At  length  he  condescended  to  inquire 
If  yet  the  city's  rest  were  won  or  lost ; 

And  being  told  the  latter,  sent  a  Bey 

To  answer  Ribas'  summons  to  give  way.1 

cxxi. 
In  the  mean  time,  cross-legged,  with  great  sang-froid, 

Among  the  scorching  ruins  he  sat  smoking 
Tobacco  on  a  little  carpet ; — Troy 

Saw  nothing  like  the  scene  around ; — yet  looking 
With  martial  Stoicism,  nought  seemed  to  annoy 

His  stern  philosophy ;  but  gently  stroking 
His  beard,  he  puffed  his  pipe's  ambrosial  gales, 
As  if  he  had  three  lives,  as  well  as  tails.2 

1.  ["Quoique  les  Russes  fussent  rgpandus  dans  la  ville,  le  bastion  de 
pierre  resistait  encore;  il  e'tait  deTendu  par  un  vieillard,  pacha  a  trois 
queues,  et  commandant  les  forces  reunies  a  Ismae'l.     On  lui  proposa 
une  capitulation  ;  il  demanda  si  le  reste  de  la  ville  6tait  conquis  ;  sur 
cette  r^ponse,  il  autorisa  quelques-uns  de  ces  omciers  a  capituler  avec 
M.  de  Ribas." — Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  215.] 

2.  ["  Pendant  ce  colloque,  il  resta  6tendu  sur  des  tapis  place's  sur  les 
ruines  de  la  forteresse,  fumant  sa  pipe  avec  la  m£me  tranquillity  et  la 
meme  indifference  que  s'il  cut  616  Granger  a  tout  ce  qui  se  passait." — 
Ibid.,  p.  215.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  367 

CXXII. 

The  town  was  taken — whether  he  might  yield 

Himself  or  bastion,  little  mattered  now : 
His  stubborn  valour  was  no  future  shield. 

Ismail 's  no  more  !     The  Crescent's  silver  bow 
Sunk,  and  the  crimson  Cross  glared  o'er  the  field, 

But  red  with  no  redeeming  gore :  the  glow 
Of  burning  streets,  like  moonlight  on  the  water, 
Was  imaged  back  in  blood,  the  sea  of  slaughter.'' 

cxxm. 

All  that  the  mind  would  shrink  from  of  excesses — 

All  that  the  body  perpetrates  of  bad ; 
All  that  we  read — hear — dream,  of  man's  distresses — 

All  that  the  Devil  would  do  if  run  stark  mad ; 
All  that  defies  the  worst  which  pen  expresses, — 

All  by  which  Hell  is  peopled,  or  as  sad 
As  Hell — mere  mortals  who  their  power  abuse — 
Was  here  (as  heretofore  and  since)  let  loose. 

CXXIV. 

If  here  and  there  some  transient  trait  of  pity 

Was  shown,  and  some  more  noble  heart  broke  through 

Its  bloody  bond,  and  saved,  perhaps,  some  pretty 
Child,  or  an  aged,  helpless  man  or  two — 

What 's  this  in  one  annihilated  city, 

Where  thousand  loves,  and  ties,  and  duties  grew  ? 

Cockneys  of  London  !  Muscadins  of  Paris  ! 

Just  ponder  what  a  pious  pastime  War  is."' 

cxxv. 
Think  how  the  joys  of  reading  a  Gazette 

Are  purchased  by  all  agonies  and  crimes  : 
Or  if  these  do  not  move  you,  don't  forget 

Such  doom  may  be  your  own  in  after-times. 
Meantime  the  Taxes,  Castlereagh,  and  Debt, 

Are  hints  as  good  as  sermons,  or  as  rhymes. 

i.   Of  burning  cities,  those  full  moons  of  slaughter 
Was  imaged  back  in  blood  instead  of  water. — 

[MS.     Alternative  reading.] 
ii.    Would  you  do  less,  "pro  focis  et  pro  aris  "  ? — [MS.  erased.} 


368  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

Read  your  own  hearts  and  Ireland's  present  story, 
Then  feed  her  famine  fat  with  Wellesley's  glory. 

CXXVI. 

But  still  there  is  unto  a  patriot  nation, 

Which  loves  so  well  its  country  and  its  King, 

A  subject  of  sublimest  exultation — 

Bear  it,  ye  Muses,  on  your  brightest  wing ! 

Howe'er  the  mighty  locust,  Desolation, 

Strip  your  green  fields,  and  to  your  harvests  cling, 

Gaunt  famine  never  shall  approach  the  throne — 

Though  Ireland  starve,  great  George  weighs  twenty  stone. 

cxxvu. 
But  let  me  put  an  end  unto  my  theme  : 

There  was  an  end  of  Ismail — hapless  town  ! 
Far  flashed  her  burning  towers  o'er  Danube's  stream, 

And  redly  ran  his  blushing  waters  down. 
The  horrid  war-whoop  and  the  shriller  scream 

Rose  still ;  but  fainter  were  the  thunders  grown : 
Of  forty  thousand  who  had  manned  the  wall, 
Some  hundreds  breathed — the  rest  were  silent  all !  2 

CXXVIII. 

In  one  thing  ne'ertheless  't  is  fit  to  praise 

The  Russian  army  upon  this  occasion, 
A  virtue  much  in  fashion  now-a-days, 

And  therefore  worthy  of  commemoration :  '• 
The  topic  's  tender,  so  shall  be  my  phrase — 

Perhaps  the  season  's  chill,  and  their  long  station 
In  Winter's  depth,  or  want  of  rest  and  victual, 
Had  made  them  chaste ; — they  ravished  very  little. 

i.  of  my  peroration. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Compare — 

' '  Spread — spread  for  Vitellius,  the  royal  repast, 

Till  the  gluttonous  despot  be  stuffed  to  the  gorge  !  " 
The  Irish  Avatar,  stanza  20,  Poetical  Works,  1891,  iv.  559.] 

2.  ["On  £gorgea  indistinctement,  on  saccagea  la  place;  et  la  rage 
du  vainqueur  .  .  .  se  re'pandit  comme  un  torrent  furieux  qui  a  renverse' 
les  digues  qui  le  relenaient :  personne  obtint  de  grace,  et  trente  huit 
mille  huit  cent  soixante  Turcs  peYirent  dans  cette  jounce  de  sang." — 
Hist,  de  la  Nouvelle  Russie,  ii.  216.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  369 

CXXIX. 

Much  did  they  slay,  more  plunder,  and  no  less 
Might  here  and  there  occur  some  violation 

In  the  other  line ; — but  not  to  such  excess 
As  when  the  French,  that  dissipated  nation, 

Take  towns  by  storm  :  no  causes  can  I  guess, 
Except  cold  weather  and  commiseration ;  '• 

But  all  the  ladies,  save  some  twenty  score, 

Were  almost  as  much  virgins  as  before. 

cxxx. 
Some  odd  mistakes,  too,  happened  in  the  dark, 

Which  showed  a  want  of  lanterns,  or  of  taste — 
Indeed  the  smoke  was  such  they  scarce  could  mark 

Their  friends   from  foes, — besides  such  things  from 

haste 
Occur,  though  rarely,  when  there  is  a  spark 

Of  light  to  save  the  venerably  chaste  : 
But  six  old  damsels,  each  of  seventy  years, 
Were  all  deflowered  by  different  grenadiers. 

cxxxi. 
But  on  the  whole  their  continence  was  great  j 

So  that  some  disappointment  there  ensued 
To  those  who  had  felt  the  inconvenient  state 

Of  "  single  blessedness,"  and  thought  it  good 
(Since  it  was  not  their  fault,  but  only  fate, 

To  bear  these  crosses)  for  each  waning  prude 
To  make  a  Roman  sort  of  Sabine  wedding, 
Without  the  expense  and  the  suspense  of  bedding. 

cxxxn. 
Some  voices  of  the  buxom  middle-aged 

Were  also  heard  to  wonder  in  the  din 
(Widows  of  forty  were  these  birds  long  caged) 

"  Wherefore  the  ravishing  did  not  begin  !  " 
But  while  the  thirst  for  gore  and  plunder  raged, 

There  was  small  leisure  for  superfluous  sin ; 
But  whether  they  escaped  or  no,  lies  hid 
In  darkness — I  can  only  hope  they  did. 

i.   the  cause  I  cannot  guess — 

/  hardly  think  it  was  commiseration. — [MS.  erased.] 
VOL.  VI.  2    B 


37°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

CXXXIII. 

Suwarrow  now  was  conqueror — a  match 

For  Timour  or  for  Zinghis  in  his  trade. 
While  mosques  and  streets,  beneath  his  eyes,  like  thatch 

Blazed,  and  the  cannon's  roar  was  scarce  allayed, 
With  bloody  hands  he  wrote  his  first  despatch ; 

And  here  exactly  follows  what  he  said : — 
"  Glory  to  God  and  to  the  Empress  !  "  (Powers 
Eternal !  such  names  mingled  /)  "  Ismail 's  ours."  : 

cxxxiv. 
Methinks  these  are  the  most  tremendous  words, 

Since  "  MENE,  MENE,  TEKEL,"  and  "  UPHARSIN," 
Which  hands  or  pens  have  ever  traced  of  swords. 

Heaven  help  me  !  I  'm  but  little  of  a  parson  : 
What  Daniel  read  was  short-hand  of  the  Lord's, 

Severe,  sublime ;  the  prophet  wrote  no  farce  on 
The  fate  of  nations ; — but  this  Russ  so  witty 
Could  rhyme,  like  Nero,  o'er  a  burning  city. 

cxxxv. 

He  wrote  this  Polar  melody,  and  set  it, 
Duly  accompanied  by  shrieks  and  groans, 

Which  few  will  sing,  I  trust,  but  none  forget  it — 
For  I  will  teach,  if  possible,  the  stones 

I.  In  the  original  Russian — 

' '  Slava  bogu  !  slava  vam  ! 
Kr^post  vzata  i  ya  tarn  ;  " 

a  kind  of  couplet ;  for  he  was  a  poet. 

[J.  H.  Caste"ra  (Vie  de  Catherine  II.,  1797,  ii.  374)  relates  this  in- 
cident in  connection  with  the  fall  of  Turtukey  (or  Tutrakaw)  in  Bulgaria, 
giving  the  words  in  French,  "Gloire  a  Dieu  !  Louange  a  Catherine ! 
Toutoukai  est  pris.  Souwaroff  y  est  entre"."  W.  Tooke  (Life  of 
Catherine  II.,  1800,  iii.  278),  CasteYa's  translator,  gives  the  original 
Russian  with  an  English  version.  But  according  to  Spalding  (Suvdroff, 
1890,  pp.  42,  43),  the  words,  which  were  written  on  a  scrap  of  paper, 
and  addressed  to  Soltikoff,  ran  thus:  "Your  Excellency,  we  have 
conquered.  Glory  to  God!  Glory  to  you!  Alexander  Suv6roff." 
When  Ismail  was  taken  he  wrote  to  Potemkin,  "The  Russian  standard 
floats  above  the  walls  of  Ismail,"  and  to  the  Empress,  "  Proud  Ismail 
lies  at  your  Majesty's  feet."  The  tenour  of  the  poetical  message  on 
the  fall  of  Tutrakaw  recalls  the  triumphant  piety  of  the  Emperor 
William  I.  of  Germany.  See,  too,  for  "mad  Suwarrow's  rhymes," 
Canto  IX.  stanza  Ix.  lines  1-4.] 


CANTO  VIII.]  DON   JUAN.  371 

To  rise  against  Earth's  tyrants.     Never  let  it 

Be  said  that  we  still  truckle  unto  thrones ; — 
But  ye — our  children's  children  !  think  how  we 
Showed  what  things  were  before  the  World  was  free  ! 

cxxxvi. 

That  hour  is  not  for  us,  but 't  is  for  you  : 
And  as,  in  the  great  joy  of  your  Millennium, 

You  hardly  will  believe  such  things  were  true 

As  now  occur,  I  thought  that  I  would  pen  you  'em ; 

But  may  their  very  memory  perish  too  ! — 

Yet  if  perchance  remembered,  still  disdain  you  'em 

More  than  you  scorn  the  savages  of  yore, 

Who  painted  their  bare  limbs,  but  not  with  gore. 

cxxxvi  i. 
And  when  you  hear  historians  talk  of  thrones, 

And  those  that  sate  upon  them,  let  it  be 
As  we  now  gaze  upon  the  mammoth's  bones, 

And  wonder  what  old  world  such  things  could  see, 
Or  hieroglyphics  on  Egyptian  stones, 

The  pleasant  riddles  of  futurity — 
Guessing  at  what  shall  happily  be  hid, 
As  the  real  purpose  of  a  pyramid. 

CXXXVIII. 

Reader !  I  have  kept  my  word, — at  least  so  far 
As  the  first  Canto  promised.     You  have  now 

Had  sketches  of  Love — Tempest — Travel — War, — 
All  very  accurate,  you  must  allow, 

And  Epic,  if  plain  truth  should  prove  no  bar ; 
For  I  have  drawn  much  less  with  a  long  bow 

Than  my  forerunners.     Carelessly  I  sing, 

But  Phcebus  lends  me  now  and  then  a  string, 

cxxxix. 
With  which  I  still  can  harp,  and  carp,  and  fiddle. 

What  further  hath  befallen  or  may  befall 
The  hero  of  this  grand  poetic  riddle, 

I  by  and  by  may  tell  you,  if  at  all : 
But  now  I  choose  to  break  off  in  the  middle, 

Worn  out  with  battering  Ismail's  stubborn  wall, 


372  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  vin. 

While  Juan  is  sent  off  with  the  despatch, 
For  which  all  Petersburgh  is  on  the  watch. 

CXL. 
This  special  honour  was  conferred,  because 

He  had  behaved  with  courage  and  humanity — 
Which  last  men  like,  when  they  have  time  to  pause 

From  their  ferocities  produced  by  vanity. 
His  little  captive  gained  him  some  applause 

For  saving  her  amidst  the  wild  insanity 
Of  carnage, — and  I  think  he  was  more  glad  in  her 
Safety,  than  his  new  order  of  St.  Vladimir. 

CXLI. 

The  Moslem  orphan  went  with  her  protector, 
For  she  was  homeless,  houseless,  helpless ;  all 

Her  friends,  like  the  sad  family  of  Hector, 
Had  perished  in  the  field  or  by  the  wall : 

Her  very  place  of  birth  was  but  a  spectre 

Of  what  it  had  been ;  there  the  Muezzin's  call 

To  prayer  was  heard  no  more ! — and  Juan  wept, 

And  made  a  vow  to  shield  her,  which  he  kept. 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  373 


CANTO   THE    NINTH. 


OH,  Wellington  !  (or  "  Villainton  "  2— for  Fame L 
Sounds  the  heroic  syllables  both  ways  j 

France  could  not  even  conquer  your  great  name, 
But  punned  it  down  to  this  facetious  phrase — 

Beating  or  beaten  she  will  laugh  the  same,) 
You  have  obtained  great  pensions  and  much  praise  : 

Glory  like  yours  should  any  dare  gainsay, 

Humanity  would  rise,  and  thunder  "  Nay  !  "  3 

n. 

I  don't  think  that  you  used  Kinnaird  quite  well 
In  Marinet's  affair 4 — in  fact,  't  was  shabby, 

i.  Ok  Wellington  (or  "  Vilainton  ") .— [MS.  B.} 

1.  [Stanzas  i.-viii.,  which  are  headed  "Don  Juan(  Canto  III.,  July 
10,  1819,"  are  in  the  handwriting  of  (?)  the  Countess  Guiccioli.     Stanzas 
ix. ,  x. ,  which  were  written  on  the  same  sheet  of  paper,  are  in  Byron's 
handwriting.    The  original  MS.  opens  with  stanza  xi.,  "  Death  laughs," 
etc.     (See  letter  to  Moore,  July  12,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  96.)] 

2.  ["  Faut  qu1  lord  Villain-ton  ait  tout  pris  ; 

N'y  a  plus  d'  argent  dans  c'  gueux  de  Paris." 
De  BeYanger,  "  Complainte  d'une  de  ces  Demoiselles  a  1'Occasion 
des  Affaires  du  Temps(Fe'vrier,  1816),"  Chansons,  1821,  ii.  17. 
Compare  a  retaliatory  epigram  which  appeared  in  a  contemporary 
newspaper — 

"  These  French  petit-maltres  who  the  spectacle  throng, 
Say  of  Wellington's  dress  quit  fait  vilain  ton  ! 
But,  at  Waterloo,  Wellington  made  the  French  stare 
When  their  army  he  dressed  d  la  mode  Angleterre  /"] 

3.  Query,  Ney  ?—  Printer's  Devil.     [Michel  Ney,  Duke  of  Elchingen, 
"  the  bravest  of  the  brave  "  (see  Ode  from  the  French,  stanza  i.  Poetical 
Works,  1900,  iii.  431),  born  January  10,  1769,  was  arrested  August  5, 

and  shot  December  7,  1815.] 

4.  [The  story  of  the  attempted  assassination  (February  u,  1818)  of 


374  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

And  like  some  other  things  won't  do  to  tell 
Upon  your  tomb  in  Westminster's  old  Abbey. 

Upon  the  rest 't  is  not  worth  while  to  dwell, 

Such  tales  being  for  the  tea-hours  of  some  tabby ; l 

the  Duke  of  Wellington,  which  is  dismissed  by  Alison  in  a  few  words 
(Hist,  of  Europe  (1815-1852),  1853,  i.  577,  578),  occupies  many  pages 
of  the  Supplementary  Despatches  (1865,  xii.  271-546).  Byron  probably 
drew  his  own  conclusions  as  to  the  Kinnaird-Marinet  incident,  from  the 
letter  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington  on  the  Arrest  of  M.  Marinet,  by  Lord 
Kinnaird,  1818.  The  story,  which  is  full  of  interest,  may  be  briefly  re- 
counted. On  January  30,  1818,  Lord  Kinnaird  informed  Sir  George 
Murray  (Chief  of  the  Staff  of  the  Army  of  Occupation)  that  a  person, 
whose  name  he  withheld,  had  revealed  to  him  the  existence  of  a  plot 
to  assassinate  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  At  12.30  a.m.,  February  u, 
1818,  the  Duke,  on  returning  to  his  Hotel,  was  fired  at  by  an  unknown 
person ;  and  then,  but  not  till  then,  he  wrote  to  urge  Lord  Clancarty 
to  advise  the  Prince  Regent  to  take  steps  to  persuade  or  force  Kinnaird 
to  disclose  the  name  of  his  informant.  A  Mr.  G.  W.  Chad,  of  the 
Consular  Service,  was  empowered  to  proceed  to  Brussels,  and  to  seek 
an  interview  with  Kinnaird.  He  carried  with  him,  among  other  docu- 
ments, a  letter  from  the  Duke  to  Lord  Clancarty,  dated  February  12, 
1818.  A  postscript  contained  this  intimation  :  "  It  may  be  proper  to 
mention  to  you  that  the  French  Government  are  disposed  to  go  every 
length  in  the  way  of  negotiation  with  the  person  mentioned  by  Lord 
Kinnaird,  or  others,  to  discover  the  plot." 

Kinnaird  absolutely  declined  to  give  up  the  name  of  his  informant, 
but,  acting  on  the  strength  of  the  postscript,  which  had  been  read  but 
not  shown  to  him,  started  for  Paris  with  "the  great  unknown."  Some 
days  after  their  arrival,  and  while  Kinnaird  was  a  guest  of  the  Duke, 
the  man  was  arrested,  and  discovered  to  be  one  Nicholle  or  Marinet, 
who  had  been  appointed  receveur  under  the  restored  government  of 
Louis  XVIII.,  but  during  the  Cent  jours  had  fled  to  Belgium,  retaining 
the  funds  he  had  amassed  during  his  term  of  office.  Kinnaird  regarded 
this  action  of  the  French  Government  as  a  breach  of  faith,  and  in  a 
"Memorial"  to  the  French  Chamber  of  Peers,  and  his  Letter,  main- 
tained that  the  Duke's  postscript  implied  a  promise  of  a  safe  conduct  for 
Marinet  to  and  from  Paris  to  Brussels.  The  Duke,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  equally  positive  (see  his  letter  to  Lord  Liverpool,  May  30,  1818) 
"that  he  never  intended  to  have  any  negotiations  with  anybody." 
Kinnaird  was  a  "dog  with  a  bad  name."  He  had  been  accused  (see 
his  Letter  to  the  Earl  of  Liverpool,  1816,  p.  16)  of  "the  promulgation 
of  dangerous  opinions,"  and  of  intimacy  "with  persons  suspected." 
The  Duke  speaks  of  him  as  "the  friend  of  Revolutionists"!  It  is 
evident  that  he  held  the  dangerous  doctrine  that  a  promise  to  a  rogue 
is  a  promise,  and  that  the  authorities  took  a  different  view  of  the  ethics 
of  the  situation.  It  is  clear,  too,  that  the  Duke's  postscript  was  am- 
biguous, but  that  it  did  not  warrant  the  assumption  that  if  Marinet 
went  to  Paris  he  should  be  protected.  The  air  was  full  of  plots.  The 
great  Duke  despised  and  was  inclined  to  ignore  the  pistol  or  the  dagger 
of  the  assassin;  but  he  believed  that  "mischief  was  afoot,"  and  that 
"great  personages"  might  or  might  not  be  responsible.  He  was 
beset  by  difficulties  at  every  turn,  and  would  have  been  more  than 
mortal  if  he  had  put  too  favourable  a  construction  on  the  scruples,  or 
condoned  the  imprudence  of  a  "  friend  of  Revolutionists."] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  375 

But  though  your  years  as  man  tend  fast  to  zero, 
In  fact  your  Grace  is  still  but  a  young  Hero. 

in. 

Though  Britain  owes  (and  pays  you  too)  so  much, 
Yet  Europe  doubtless  owes  you  greatly  more  : 

You  have  repaired  Legitimacy's  crutch, 
A  prop  not  quite  so  certain  as  before : 

The  Spanish,  and  the  French,  as  well  as  Dutch, 
Have  seen,  and  felt,  how  strongly  you  restore ; 

And  Waterloo  has  made  the  world  your  debtor 

(I  wish  your  bards  would  sing  it  rather  better). 

IV. 

You  are  "  the  best  of  cut-throats  :  "  - — do  not  start ; 

The  phrase  is  Shakespeare's,  and  not  misapplied  : — 
War  's  a  brain-spattering,  windpipe-slitting  art, 

Unless  her  cause  by  right  be  sanctified. 
If  you  have  acted  once  a  generous  part, 

The  World,  not  the  World's  masters,  will  decide, 
And  I  shall  be  delighted  to  learn  who, 
Save  you  and  yours,  have  gained  by  Waterloo  ? 

v. 
I  am  no  flatterer — you  've  supped  full  of  flattery  : 3 

They  say  you  like  it  too — 't  is  no  great  wonder. 
He  whose  whole  life  has  been  assault  and  battery, 

At  last  may  get  a  little  tired  of  thunder ; 
And  swallowing  eulogy  much  more  than  satire,  he 

May  like  being  praised  for  every  lucky  blunder, 
Called  "  Saviour  of  the  Nations  " — not  yet  saved, — 
And  "  Europe's  Liberator  " — still  enslaved.4 

1.  [The  reference  may  be  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  intimacy  with 
Lady   Frances  Wedderburn   Webster.        Byron     had    "passed    that 
way"  himself  (see  Letters,  1898,  ii.  251,  note  i,  323,  etc.),  and  could 
hardly  attack  the  Duke  on  that  score.] 

2.  ["  Thou  art  the  best  o'  the  cut-throats." 

.Macbeth,  act  iii.  sc.  4,  line  17.] 

3.  ["I  have  supped  full  of  horrors." 

Macbeth,  act  v.  sc.  5,  line  13.] 

4.  Vide  speeches  in  Parliament,  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo. 


376  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

VI. 

I  've  done.     Now  go  and  dine  from  off  the  plate 
Presented  by  the  Prince  of  the  Brazils, 

And  send  the  sentinel  before  your  gate 

A  slice  or  two  from  your  luxurious  meals  : l 

He  fought,  but  has  not  fed  so  well  of  late. 

Some  hunger,  too,  they  say  the  people  feels : — 

There  is  no  doubt  that  you  deserve  your  ration, 

But  pray  give  back  a  little  to  the  nation. 

VII. 

I  don't  mean  to  reflect — a  man  so  great  as 
You,  my  lord  Duke  !  is  far  above  reflection : 

The  high  Roman  fashion,  too,  of  Cincinnatus, 
With  modern  history  has  but  small  connection  : 

Though  as  an  Irishman  you  love  potatoes, 

You  need  not  take  them  under  your  direction ; 

And  half  a  million  for  your  Sabine  farm 

Is  rather  dear ! — I  'm  sure  I  mean  no  harm. 

VIII. 

Great  men  have  always  scorned  great  recompenses : 
Epaminondas  saved  his  Thebes,  and  died, 

Not  leaving  even  his  funeral  expenses :  2 

George  Washington  had  thanks,  and  nought  beside, 

Except  the  all-cloudless  glory  (which  few  men's  is) 
To  free  his  country :  Pitt  too  had  his  pride, 

And  as  a  high-souled  Minister  of  state  is 

Renowned  for  ruining  Great  Britain  gratis.3 

t.  ["  I  at  this  time  got  a  post,  being  for  fatigue,  with  four  others. 
We  were  sent  to  break  biscuit,  and  make  a  mess  for  Lord  Wellington's 
hounds.  I  was  very  hungry,  and  thought  it  a  good  job  at  the  time,  as 
we  got  our  own  fill,  while  we  broke  the  biscuit, — a  thing  I  had  not  got 
for  some  days.  When  thus  engaged,  the  Prodigal  Son  was  never  once 
out  of  my  mind  ;  and  I  sighed,  as  I  fed  the  dogs,  over  my  humble 
situation  and  my  ruined  hopes." — Journal  of  a  Soldier  of  the  jist  Regi- 
ment, 1806  to  1815  (Edinburgh,  1822),  pp.  132,  133.] 

2.  ["We   are   assured   that    Epaminondas   died   so  poor  that    the 
Thebans  buried  him  at  the  public  charge  ;  for  at  his  death  nothing  was 
found  in  his  house  but  an  iron  spit." — Plutarch's  Fabius  Maximus, 
Langhorne's   translation,  1838,    p.   140.     See,   too,    Cornelius   Nepos, 
Epam.,  cap.  iii.  "  Paupertatem  adeo  facile  perpessus  est,  utde  Republica 
nihil  proeter  gloriam  ceperit."] 

3.  [For  Pitt's  refusal  to   accept  .£100,000  from  the  merchants  of 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  377 

IX. 

Never  had  mortal  man  such  opportunity, 

Except  Napoleon,  or  abused  it  more  : 
You  might  have  freed  fallen  Europe  from  the  unity 

Of  Tyrants,  and  been  blest  from  shore  to  shore : 
And  now — what  is  your  fame?      Shall  the  Muse  tune 
it  ye? 

Now — that  the  rabble's  first  vain  shouts  are  o'er  ? 
Go  !  hear  it  in  your  famished  country's  cries  ! 
Behold  the  World  !  and  curse  your  victories  ! 

x. 

As  these  new  cantos  touch  on  warlike  feats, 

To  you  the  unflattering  Muse  deigns  to  inscribe  '• 

Truths,  that  you  will  not  read  in  the  Gazettes, 
But  which  't  is  time  to  teach  the  hireling  tribe 

Who  fatten  on  their  country's  gore,  and  debts, 
Must  be  recited — and  without  a  bribe. 

You  did  great  things,  but  not  being  great  in  mind, 

Have  left  undone  the  greatest — and  mankind. 

XI. 

Death  laughs — Go  ponder  o'er  the  skeleton 
With  which  men  image  out  the  unknown  thing 

That  hides  the  past  world,  like  to  a  set  sun 

Which  still  elsewhere  may  rouse  a  brighter  spring — 

Death  laughs  at  all  you  weep  for ! — look  upon 
This  hourly  dread  of  all !  whose  threatened  sting 

Turns  Life  to  terror,  even  though  in  its  sheath  : 

Mark  !  how  its  lipless  mouth  grins  without  breath  ! 

xir. 
Mark !  how  it  laughs  and  scorns  at  all  you  are  ! 

And  yet  was  what  you  are ;  from  ear  to  ear 
It  laughs  not — there  is  now  no  fleshy  bar 

So  called ;  the  Antic  long  hath  ceased  to  hear, 
But  still  he  smiles  ;  and  whether  near  or  far, 

He  strips  from  man  that  mantle  (far  more  dear 

i.   To  you  this  one  unflattering  Muse  inscribes. — [MS.  erased.] 

London  towards  the  payment  of  his  debts,  or  ^30,000  from  the  King's 
Privy  Purse,  see  Pitt,  by  Lord  Rosebery,  1891,  p.  231.] 


378 


DON   JUAN. 


[CANTO  ix. 


Than  even  the  tailor's),  his  incarnate  skin,'- 
White,  black,  or  copper — the  dead  bones  will  grin. 

XIII. 

And  thus  Death  laughs, — it  is  sad  merriment, 
But  still  it  is  so ;  and  with  such  example 

Why  should  not  Life  be  equally  content 
With  his  Superior,  in  a  smile  to  trample 

Upon  the  nothings  which  are  daily  spent 
Like  bubbles  on  an  Ocean  much  less  ample 

Than  the  Eternal  Deluge,  which  devours 

Suns  as  rays — worlds  like  atoms — years  like  hours  ? 

XIV. 

"  To  be,  or  not  to  be  ?  that  is  the  question," 
Says  Shakespeare,1  who  just  now  is  much  in  fashion. 

I  am  neither  Alexander  nor  Hephaestion, 

Nor  ever  had  for  abstract  fame  much  passion ; 

But  would  much  rather  have  a  sound  digestion 
Than  Buonaparte's  cancer  : — could  I  dash  on 

Through  fifty  victories  to  shame  or  fame — 

Without  a  stomach  what  were  a  good  name  ? 

xv. 

"  O  dura  ilia  messorwn  I " 2 — "  Oh 

Ye  rigid  guts  of  reapers  ! "  I  translate  "• 

For  the  great  benefit  of  those  who  know 
What  indigestion  is — that  inward  fate 

Which  makes  all  Styx  through  one  small  liver  flow. 
A  peasant's  sweat  is  worth  his  lord's  estate  : 

Let  this  one  toil  for  bread — that  rack  for  rent, 

He  who  sleeps  best  may  be  the  most  content. 

XVI. 

"  To  be,  or  not  to  be  ?  " — Ere  I  decide, 

I  should  be  glad  to  know  that  which  is  being. 

'T  is  true  we  speculate  both  far  and  wide, 
And  deem,  because  we  see,  we  are  all-seeing: 

i.  He  strips  from  man  his  mantle  (which  is  dear 

Though  beautiful  in  youth)  his  carnal  skin. — [MS.  erased'.'] 
ii.    Ye  iron  guts . — [MS.  erased.} 

1.  [Hamlet,  act  iii.  sc.  i ,  line  56.  ] 

2.  ["  O  dura  messorum  ilia  !  "  etc.— Hor.,  Epod.  iii.  4.] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  379 

For  my  part,  I  '11  enlist  on  neither  side, 

Until  I  see  both  sides  for  once  agreeing. 
For  me,  I  sometimes  think  that  Life  is  Death, 
Rather  than  Life  a  mere  affair  of  breath. 

XVII. 

"  Que  scais-j'e?"  1  was  the  motto  of  Montaigne, 

As  also  of  the  first  academicians  : 
That  all  is  dubious  which  man  may  attain, 

Was  one  of  their  most  favourite  positions. 
There  's  no  such  thing  as  certainty,  that 's  plain 

As  any  of  Mortality's  conditions ; 
So  little  do  we  know  what  we  're  about  in 
This  world,  I  doubt  if  doubt  itself  be  doubting. 

XVIII. 

It  is  a  pleasant  voyage  perhaps  to  float, 

Like  Pyrrho,2  on  a  sea  of  speculation ; 
But  what  if  carrying  sail  capsize  the  boat  ? 

Your  wise  men  don't  know  much  of  navigation ; 
And  swimming  long  in  the  abyss  of  thought 

Is  apt  to  tire  :  a  calm  and  shallow  station 
Well  nigh  the  shore,  where  one  stoops  down  and  gathers 
Some  pretty  shell,  is  best  for  moderate  bathers. 

XIX. 

"  But  Heaven,"  as  Cassio  says,  "  is  above  all —  3 
No  more  of  this,  then,  let  us  pray ! "    We  have 

i.  ["  Ce  n'est  qu'a  I'e'dition  de  1635  qu'on  voit  paraitre  la  devise  que 
Montaigne  avait  adoptee,  le  que  sais-je  ?  avec  1'embleme  des  balances. 
.  .  .  Ce  que  sais-je  que  Pascal  a  si  se'verement  analyst  se  lit  au  chapitre 
douze  du  livre  ii ;  il  caracteYise  parfaitement  la  philosophic  de  Mon- 
taigne ;  il  est  la  consequence  de  cette  maxime  qu'il  avait  inscrite  en 
grec  sur  les  solives  de  sa  librairie  :  '  II  n'est  point  de  raisonnement  au 
quel  on  n'oppose  un  raissonnement  contraire.'" — (Euvres  de  .  ,  . 
Montaigne,  1837,  "Notice  Bibliographique,"  p.  xvii.] 

•2.  [Concerning  the  Pyrrhonists  or  Sceptics  and  their  master  Pyrrho, 
who  held  that  Truth  was  incomprehensible  (inprensibilis),  and  that 
you  may  not  affirm  of  aught  that  it  be  rather  this  or  that,  or  neither 
this  nor  that  (ov  JJLO.\\OI>  ovrus  6%ei  rJ5e  ^  ^(ceu/ois  t)  otiSere'pcos),  see 
Aul.  Gellii  Nocf.  Attic.,  lib.  xi.  cap.  v.] 

3.  See  Othello,  [act  ii.  sc.  3,  lines  206,  207  :  "Well,  God's  above  all, 
and  there  be  souls  must  be  saved ;  and  there  be  souls  must  not  be 
saved— Let's  have  no  more  of  this."] 


3^o  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

Souls  to  save,  since  Eve's  slip  and  Adam's  fall, 
Which  tumbled  all  mankind  into  the  grave, 

Besides  fish,  beasts,  and  birds.     "  The  sparrow's  fall 
Is  special  providence," :  though  how  if  gave 

Offence,  we  know  not ;  probably  it  perched 

Upon  the  tree  which  Eve  so  fondly  searched. 

xx. 
Oh  !  ye  immortal  Gods  !  what  is  Theogony  ? 

Oh  !  thou,  too,  mortal  man  !  what  is  Philanthropy  ? 
Oh !  World,  which  was  and  is,  what  is  Cosmogony  ? 

Some  people  have  accused  me  of  Misanthropy ; 
And  yet  I  know  no  more  than  the  mahogany 

That  forms  this  desk,  of  what  they  mean ; — Lykan- 

thropy  2 

I  comprehend,  for  without  transformation 
Men  become  wolves  on  any  slight  occasion. 

XXI. 

But  I,  the  mildest,  meekest  of  mankind, 

Like  Moses,  or  Melancthon,3  who  have  ne'er  '• 

Done  anything  exceedingly  unkind, — 

And  (though  I  could  not  now  and  then  forbear 

Following  the  bent  of  body  or  of  mind) 
Have  always  had  a  tendency  to  spare, — 

Why  do  they  call  me  Misanthrope  ?     Because 

They  hate  me,  not  I  them : — and  here  we  '11  pause. 

XXII. 

'T  is  time  we  should  proceed  with  our  good  poem, — 

For  I  maintain  that  it  is  really  good, 
Not  only  in  the  body  but  the  proem, 

However  little  both  are  understood 

i.  Like  Moses  or  like  Cobbett  who  have  ne'er. 

Moses  and  Gobbet  proclaim  themselves  the  "  meekest  of  men."    See 
their  writings. — [MS.] 

Like  Moses  who  was  "  very  meek  "  had  ne'er. — \_MS,  erased.'] 

1.  [Hamlet,  act  v.  sc.  2,  lines  94,  98,  102.] 

2.  [For  "  Lycanthropy,"  see  '^The  Soldier's  Story  "  in  the  Satyricon 
of  Petronius  Arbiter,  cap.  62  ;  see,  too,  Letters  on  Demonology,  etc. ,  by 
Sir  W.  Scott,  1830,  pp.  211,  212.] 

3.  [In  respect  of  suavity  and  forbearance  Melancthon  was  the  counter- 
part of  Luther.     John  Arrowsmith  (1602-1657),  in  his  Tractica  Sacra, 
describes  him  as  "Vir  in  quo  cum  pietate  doctrina,  et  cum  utraque 
candor  certavit."] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  381 

Just  now, — but  by  and  by  the  Truth  will  show  'em 

Herself  in  her  sublimest  attitude : 
And  till  she  doth,  I  fain  must  be  content 
To  share  her  beauty  and  her  banishment. 

XXIII. 

Our  hero  (and,  I  trust,  kind  reader !  yours) 

Was  left  upon  his  way  to  the  chief  city 
Of  the  immortal  Peter's  polished  boors, 

Who  still  have  shown  themselves  more  brave  than  witty. 
I  know  its  mighty  Empire  now  allures 

Much  flattery — even  Voltaire's,1  and  that 's  a  pity. 
For  me,  I  deem  an  absolute  autocrat 
Not  a  barbarian,  but  much  worse  than  that. 

XXIV. 

And  I  will  war,  at  least  in  words  (and — should 
My  chance  so  happen — deeds),  with  all  who  war 

With  Thought ; — and  of  Thought's  foes  by  far  most  rude, 
Tyrants  and  sycophants  have  been  and  are. 

I  know  not  who  may  conquer  :  if  I  could 
Have  such  a  prescience,  it  should  be  no  bar 

To  this  my  plain,  sworn,  downright  detestation 

Of  every  despotism  in  every  nation.1- 

xxv. 
It  is  not  that  I  adulate  the  people  : 

Without  me,  there  are  demagogues  enough,2 
And  infidels,  to  pull  down  every  steeple, 

And  set  up  in  their  stead  some  proper  stuff. 
Whether  they  may  sow  scepticism  to  reap  Hell, 

As  is  the  Christian  dogma  rather  rough, 

i.   Of  everything  that  ever  cursed  a  nation. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [See  his  "  Correspondance  avec  L'Impe'ratrice  de  Russie,"  (Euvres 
Completes  de  Voltaire,  1836,  x.  393-477.     M.  Waliszewski,  in  his  Story 
of  a  Throne,  1895,  i.  224,  has  gathered  a  handful  of  these  flowers  of 
speech  :  "  She  is  the  chief  person  in  the  world.  .  .  .  She  is  the  fire  and 
life  of  nations.  .  .  .  She  is  a  saint.  .  .  .  She  is  above  all  saints.  .  .  . 
She  is  equal  to  the  mother  of  God.  .  .  .  She  is  the  divinity  of  the 
North. — Te  Catherinam  laudamus,  te  Dominant  confitemur,  etc.,  etc."] 

2.  ["  It  is  still  more  difficult  to  say  which  form  of  government  is  the 
worst — all  are  so  bad.     As  for  democracy,  it  is  the  worst  of  the  whole  ; 
for  what  is  (in  fact)  democracy? — an  Aristocracy  of  Blackguards." — 
See  "  My  Dictionary"  (May  i,  1821),  Letters,  1901,  v.  405,  406.1 


382  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

I  do  not  know ; — I  wish  men  to  be  free 

As  much  from  mobs  as  kings — from  you  as  me. 

XXVI. 

The  consequence  is,  being  of  no  party, 
I  shall  offend  all  parties  : — never  mind  ! 

My  words,  at  least,  are  more  sincere  and  hearty 
Than  if  I  sought  to  sail  before  the  wind. 

He  who  has  nought  to  gain  can  have  small  art :  he 
Who  neither  wishes  to  be  bound  nor  bind, 

May  still  expatiate  freely,  as  will  I, 

Nor  give  my  voice  to  slavery's  jackal  cry.!- 

XXVII. 

That 's  an  appropriate  simile,  that  jackal ; — 
I  Ve  heard  them  in  the  Ephesian  ruins  howl * 

By  night,  as  do  that  mercenary  pack  all, 

Power's  base  purveyors,  who  for  pickings  prowl, 

And  scent  the  prey  their  masters  would  attack  all. 
However,  the  poor  jackals  are  less  foul 

(As  being  the  brave  lions'  keen  providers) 

Than  human  insects,  catering  for  spiders."- 

XXVIII. 

Raise  but  an  arm  !  't  will  brush  their  web  away, 
And  without  that,  their  poison  and  their  claws 

Are  useless.     Mind,  good  people  !  what  I  say — 
(Or  rather  Peoples) — go  on  without  pause ! 

The  web  of  these  Tarantulas  each  day 

Increases,  till  you  shall  make  common  cause  : 

None,  save  the  Spanish  Fly  and  Attic  Bee, 

As  yet  are  strongly  stinging  to  be  free.'"' 

XXIX. 

Don  Juan,  who  had  shone  in  the  late  slaughter, 
Was  left  upon  his  way  with  the  despatch, 

i.    Though  priests  and  slaves  may  join  the  servile  cry. — [MS.  erased.} 
ii.    Whereas  the  others  hunt  for  rascal  spiders. — [MS.  erased.] 
iii.    Which  still  are  strongly  fluttering  to  be  free. — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  In  Greece  I  never  saw  or  heard  these  animals ;  but  among  the 
ruins  of  Ephesus  I  have  heard  them  by  hundreds. 

[See  Childe  Harold,  Canto  IV.  stanza  cliii.  line  6,  Poetical  Works, 
1899,  ii.  441 ;  and  Siege  of  Corinth,  line  329,  ibid.,  1900,  iii.  462,  note  i.] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  383 

Where  blood  was  talked  of  as  we  would  of  water ; 

And  carcasses  that  lay  as  thick  as  thatch 
O'er  silenced  cities,  merely  served  to  flatter 

Fair  Catherine's  pastime — who  looked  on  the  match 
Between  these  nations  as  a  main  of  cocks, 
Wherein  she  liked  her  own  to  stand  like  rocks. 

XXX. 

And  there  in  a  kibitka  he  rolled  on, 

(A  cursed  sort  of  carriage  without  springs, 

Which  on  rough  roads  leaves  scarcely  a  whole  bone,) 
Pondering  on  Glory,  Chivalry,  and  Kings, 

And  Orders,  and  on  all  that  he  had  done — 
And  wishing  that  post-horses  had  the  wings 

Of  Pegasus,  or  at  the  least  post-chaises 

Had  feathers,  when  a  traveller  on  deep  ways  is. 

XXXI. 

At  every  jolt — and  they  were  many — still 
He  turned  his  eyes  upon  his  little  charge, 

As  if  he  wished  that  she  should  fare  less  ill 
Than  he,  in  these  sad  highways  left  at  large 

To  ruts,  and  flints,  and  lovely  Nature's  skill, 
Who  is  no  paviour,  nor  admits  a  barge 

On  her  canals,  where  God  takes  sea  and  land, 

Fishery  and  farm,  both  into  his  own  hand. 

XXXII. 

At  least  he  pays  no  rent,  and  has  best  right 
To  be  the  first  of  what  we  used  to  call 

"  Gentlemen  farmers  " — a  race  worn  out  quite, 
Since  lately  there  have  been  no  rents  at  all, 

And  "  gentlemen  "  are  in  a  piteous  plight, 

And  "  farmers  "  can't  raise  Ceres  from  her  fall : 

She  fell  with  Buonaparte,1 — What  strange  thoughts 

Arise,  when  we  see  Emperors  fall  with  oats  ! 

XXXIII. 

But  Juan  turned  his  eyes  on  the  sweet  child 

Whem  he  had  saved  from  slaughter — what  a  trophy 

i.  [Compare  The  A%e  of  Bronze,  line  576,  sq.,  Poetical  Works,  1901, 
v-  S70-] 


384  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

Oh  !  ye  who  build  up  monuments,  defiled 

With  gore,  like  Nadir  Shah,1  that  costive  Sophy, 

Who,  after  leaving  Hindostan  a  wild, 
And  scarce  to  the  Mogul  a  cup  of  coffee 

To  soothe  his  woes  withal,  was  slain,  the  sinner ! 

Because  he  could  no  more  digest  his  dinner ; —  '•  2 

xxxiv. 
Oh  ye !  or  we  !  or  he  !  or  she  !  reflect, 

That  one  life  saved,  especially  if  young 
Or  pretty,  is  a  thing  to  recollect 

Far  sweeter  than  the  greenest  laurels  sprung 
From  the  manure  of  human  clay,  though  decked 

With  all  the  praises  ever  said  or  sung : 
Though  hymned  by  every  harp,  unless  within 
Your  heart  joins  chorus,  Fame  is  but  a  din. 

xxxv. 
Oh !  ye  great  authors  luminous,  voluminous  ! 

Ye  twice  ten  hundred  thousand  daily  scribes  ! 
Whose  pamphlets,  volumes,  newspapers,  illumine  us  ! 

Whether  you  're  paid  by  government  in  bribes, 
To  prove  the  public  debt  is  not  consuming  us — 

Or,  roughly  treading  on  the  "  courtier's  kibes  " 
With  clownish  heel 3  your  popular  circulation 
Feeds  you  by  printing  half  the  realm's  starvation ; — 

i.  "went  mad  and  was 

Killed  because  what  he  swallowed  would  not  pass. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Nadir  Shah,  or  Thamas   Kouli   Khan,  born  November,  1688, 
invaded  India,  1739-40,  was  assassinated  June  19,  1747.] 

2.  He  was  killed  in  a  conspiracy,  after  his  temper  had  been  ex- 
asperated by  his  extreme  costivity  to  a  degree  of  insanity. 

[To  such  a  height  had  his  madness  (attributed  to  melancholia  pro- 
duced by  dropsy)  attained,  that  he  actually  ordered  the  Afghan  chiefs 
to  rise  suddenly  upon  the  Persian  guard,  and  seize  the  .  .  .  chief 
nobles ;  but  the  project  being  discovered,  the  intended  victims  con- 
spired in  turn,  and  a  body  of  them,  including  Nadir's  guard,  and  the 
chief  of  his  own  tribe  of  Afshar,  entered  his  tent  at  midnight,  and, 
after  a  moment's  involuntary  pause — when  challenged  by  the  deep 
voice  at  which  they  had  so  often  trembled — rushed  upon  the  king,  who 
being  brought  to  the  ground  by  a  sabre-stroke,  begged  for  life,  and 
attempted  to  rise,  but  soon  expired  beneath  the  repeated  blows  of  the 
conspirators. — The  Indian  Empire,  by  R.  Montgomery  Martin  (1857), 
i.  172.] 

3.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  I.  stanza  Ixvii.  line  5,  Poetical 
Works,  1899,  ii.  64,  note  3.] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON  JUAN.  385 

XXXVI. 

Oh,  ye  great  authors  ! — A  propos  des  bottes, — 
I  have  forgotten  what  I  meant  to  say, 

As  sometimes  have  been  greater  sages'  lots ; — 
'T  was  something  calculated  to  allay 

All  wrath  in  barracks,  palaces,  or  cots : 

Certes  it  would  have  been  but  thrown  away, 

And  that 's  one  comfort  for  my  lost  advice, 

Although  no  doubt  it  was  beyond  all  price. 

XXXVII. 

But  let  it  go : — it  will  one  day  be  found 
With  other  relics  of  "  a  former  World," 

When  this  World  shall  be  former,  underground, 
Thrown  topsy-turvy,  twisted,  crisped,  and  curled, 

Baked,  fried,  or  burnt,  turned  inside-out,  or  drowned, 
Like  all  the  worlds  before,  which  have  been  hurled 

First  out  of,  and  then  back  again  to  chaos — 

The  superstratum  which  will  overlay  us.1 

xxxvni. 
So  Cuvier  says : l — and  then  shall  come  again 

Unto  the  new  creation,  rising  out 
From  our  old  crash,  some  mystic,  ancient  strain 

Of  things  destroyed  and  left  in  airy  doubt  ; 
Like  to  the  notions  we  now  entertain 

Of  Titans,  giants,  fellows  of  about 
Some  hundred  feet  in  height,  not  to  say  miles > 
And  mammoths,  and  your  winge'd  crocodiles. 

XXXIX. 

Think  if  then  George  the  Fourth  should  be  dug  up !  2 
How  the  new  worldlings  of  the  then  new  East 

Will  wonder  where  such  animals  could  sup ! 
(For  they  themselves  will  be  but  of  the  least : 

Even  worlds  miscarry,  when  too  oft  they  pup, 
And  every  new  creation  hath  decreased 

i.  Or  the  substrata .—[MS.} 

1.  [Compare  Preface  to  Cain,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  210,  note  i.] 

2.  [Vide  ante,  Canto  VIII.  stanza  cxxvi.  line  9,  p.  368.] 
VOL.  VI.  2     C 


386  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

In  size,  from  overworking  the  material — 

Men  are  but  maggots  of  some  huge  Earth's  burial.) 

XL. 

How  will — to  these  young  people,  just  thrust  out 
From  some  fresh  Paradise,  and  set  to  plough, 

And  dig,  and  sweat,  and  turn  themselves  about, 
And  plant,  and  reap,  and  spin,  and  grind,  and  sow, 

Till  all  the  arts  at  length  are  brought  about, 
Especially  of  War  and  taxing, — how, 

I  say,  will  these  great  relics,  when  they  see  'em, 

Look  like  the  monsters  of  a  new  Museum  ! 

XLI. 

But  I  am  apt  to  grow  too  metaphysical : 
"  The  time  is  out  of  joint,"  1 — and  so  am  I ; 

I  quite  forget  this  poem  's  merely  quizzical, 
And  deviate  into  matters  rather  dry. 

I  ne'er  decide  what  I  shall  say,  and  this  I  call i- 
Much  too  poetical :  men  should  know  why 

They  write,  and  for  what  end ;  but,  note  or  text, 

I  never  know  the  word  which  will  come  next. 

XLII. 

So  on  I  ramble,  now  and  then  narrating, 

Now  pondering  : — it  is  time  we  should  narrate. 

I  left  Don  Juan  with  his  horses  baiting — 
Now  we  '11  get  o'er  the  ground  at  a  great  rate  : 

I  shall  not  be  particular  in  stating 

His  journey,  we  've  so  many  tours  of  late  : 

Suppose  him  then  at  Petersburgh ;  suppose 

That  pleasant  capital  of  painted  snows ;  2 

i.  /  never  know  what 's  next  to  come . — [AfS.  erased.] 

1.  \ffamlet,  act  i.  sc.  5,  line  189.] 

2.  [It  is  possible  that  the  phrase  "painted  snows"  was  suggested  by 
Tooke's  description  of  the  winter-garden  of  the  Taurida  Palace  :  "The 
genial  warmth.  .  .  .  the  voluptuous  silence  that  reigns  in  this  enchant- 
ing garden,   lull  the  fancy  into  sweet  romantic  dreams :    we  think 
ourselves  in  the  groves  of  Italy,  while  torpid  nature,   through   the 
windows  of  this  pavilion,  announces  the  severity  of  a  northern  winter" 
(The  Life,  etc.,  1800,  iii.  48).] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  387 

XLIII. 

Suppose  him  in  a  handsome  uniform — 
A  scarlet  coat,  black  facings,  a  long  plume, 

Waving,  like  sails  new  shivered  in  a  storm, 
Over  a  cocked  hat  in  a  crowded  room, 

And  brilliant  breeches,  bright  as  a  Cairn  Gorme, 
Of  yellow  casimire  we  may  presume, 

White  stockings  drawn  uncurdled  as  new  milk 

O'er  limbs  whose  symmetry  set  off  the  silk ;  '• 

XLIV. 
Suppose  him  sword  by  side,  and  hat  in  hand, 

Made  up  by  Youth,  Fame,  and  an  army  tailor — 
That  great  enchanter,  at  whose  rod's  command 

Beauty  springs  forth,  and  Nature's  self  turns  paler, 
Seeing  how  Art  can  make  her  work  more  grand 

(When  she  don't  pin  men's  limbs  in  like  a  gaoler), — 
Behold  him  placed  as  if  upon  a  pillar  !     He  "• 
Seems  Love  turned  a  Lieutenant  of  Artillery  ! l 

XLV. 
His  bandage  slipped  down  into  a  cravat — 

His  wings  subdued  to  epaulettes — his  quiver 
Shrunk  to  a  scabbard,  with  his  arrows  at 

His  side  as  a  small  sword,  but  sharp  as  ever — 
His  bow  converted  into  a  cocked  hat — 

But  still  so  like,  that  Psyche  were  more  clever 
Than  some  wives  (who  make  blunders  no  less  stupid), 
If  she  had  not  mistaken  him  for  Cupid. 

XLVI. 
The  courtiers  stared,  the  ladies  whispered,  and 

The     Empress     smiled  :     the     reigning     favourite 
frowned —  m- 

i.   O'er  limbs  which  mightily . — [MS.  erased.] 

ii.  in  Youth  and  Glory's  pillory. — [MS.  erased.} 

iii.       The  Empress  smiled  while  all  the  Orloff frowned — 
A  numerous  family ,  to  whose  heart  or  hand 
Mild  Catherine  owed  the  chance  of  being  crowned. — [MS.  erased.} 

i.  [In  his  Notes  sur  le  Don  Juanisme  (Mercure  de  France,  1898,  xxvi. 
66),  M.  Bruchard  says  that  this  phrase  defines  and  summarizes  the 
Byronic  Don  Juan.] 


388  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

I  quite  forget  which  of  them  was  in  hand 
Just  then,  as  they  are  rather  numerous  found,1 

Who  took,  by  turns,  that  difficult  command 
Since  first  her  Majesty  was  singly  crowned  : 2 

But  they  were  mostly  nervous  six-foot  fellows, 

All  fit  to  make  a  Patagonian  jealous. 

XLVII. 
Juan  was  none  of  these,  but  slight  and  slim, 

Blushing  and  beardless ;  and,  yet,  ne'ertheless, 
There  was  a  something  in  his  turn  of  limb, 

And  still  more  in  his  eye,  which  seemed  to  express, 
That,  though  he  looked  one  of  the  Seraphim, 

There  lurked  a  man  beneath  the  Spirit's  dress. 

i.  [C.  F.  P.  Masson,  in  his  Mttnoires  Secrets,  etc.,  1880,  i.  150- 
178,  gives  a  list  of  twelve  favourites,  and  in  this  Canto,  Don  Juan 
takes  upon  himself  the  characteristics  of  at  least  three,  Lanskoi, 
Zorftch  (or  Zovitch),  and  Plato  Zoubof.  For  example  (p.  167),  "  Zoritch 
.  .  .  est  le  seul  e'tranger  qu'elle  ait  os6  cr£er  son  favori  pendant  son 
regne.  C'6toit  un  Servien  e"chapp6  du  bagne  de  Constantinople  ou  il 
eloit  prisonnier :  il  parut,  pour  la  premiere  fois,  en  habit  de  hussard  a 
la  cour.  II  6blouit  tout  le  monde  par  sa  beaute',  et  les  vielles  dames 
en  parlent  encore  comme  d'un  Adonis."  M.  Waliszewski,  in  his 
Romance  of  an  Empress  (1894),  devotes  a  chapter  to  "  Private  Life 
and  Favouritism  "  (ii.  234-286),  in  which  he  graphically  describes  the 
election  and  inauguration  of  the  Vremienchtchik,  "the  man  of  the 
moment,"  paramour  regnant,  and  consort  of  the  Empress  pro  hac 
vice:  "  'We  may  observe  in  Russia  a  sort  of  interregnum  in  affairs, 
caused  by  the  displacement  of  one  favourite  and  the  installation  of 
his  successor.1  .  .  .  The  interregnums  are,  however,  of  very  short 
duration.  Only  one  lasts  for  several  months,  between  the  death  of 
Lanskoi  (1784)  and  the  succession  of  lermolof.  .  .  .  There  is  no  lack 
of  candidates.  The  place  is  good.  .  .  .  Sometimes,  too,  on  the 
height  by  the  throne,  reached  at  a  bound,  these  spoilt  children  of  fate 
grow  giddy.  ...  It  is  over  in  an  instant,  at  an  evening  reception 
it  is  noticed  that  the  Empress  has  gazed  attentively  at  some  obscure 
lieutenant,  presented  but  just  before  .  .  .  next  day  it  is  reported  that 
he  has  been  appointed  aide-de-camp  to  her  Majesty.  What  that 
means  is  well  known.  Next  day  he  finds  himself  in  the  special  suite  of 
rooms.  .  .  .  The  rooms  are  already  vacated,  and  everything  is  pre- 
pared for  the  new-comer.  All  imaginable  comfort  and  luxury  .  .  . 
await  him ;  and,  on  opening  a  drawer,  he  finds  a  hundred  thousand 
roubles  [about  ,£20,000],  the  usual  first  gift,  a  foretaste  of  Pactolus. 
That  evening,  before  the  assembled  court,  the  Empress  appears, 
leaning  familiarly  on  his  arm,  and  on  the  stroke  of  ten,  as  she  retires, 
the  new  favourite  follows  her"  (ibid.,  pp.  246-249).] 

2.  [After  the  death  or  murder  of  her  husband,  Peter  III.,  Catherine 
Alexievna  (1729-1796)  (born  Sophia  Augusta),  daughter  of  the  Prince 
of  Anhalt  Zerbst,  was  solemnly  crowned  (September,  1762)  Empress  of 
all  the  Russias.] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  389 

Besides,  the  Empress  sometimes  liked  a  boy, 
And  had  just  buried  the  fair-faced  Lanskoi.'' l 

XLVIII. 
No  wonder  then  that  Yermoloff,  or  Momonoff,3 

Or  Scherbatoff,  or  any  other  off 
Or  on,  might  dread  her  Majesty  had  not  room  enough 

Within  her  bosom  (which  was  not  too  tough), 
For  a  new  flame ;  a  thought  to  cast  of  gloom  enough 

Along  the  aspect,  whether  smooth  or  rough, 
Of  him  who,  in  the  language  of  his  station, 
Then  held  that  "  high  official  situation." 

XLIX. 
O  gentle  ladies  !  should  you  seek  to  know 

The  import  of  this  diplomatic  phrase, 
Bid  Ireland's  Londonderry's  Marquess  3  show 

His  parts  of  speech,  and  in  the  strange  displays 

i.  And  almost  died  for  the  scarce-fledged  Lanskoi. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  He  was  the  grande  passion  of  the  grande  Catherine.    See  her 
Lives  under  the  head  of  "  Lanskoi." 

[Lanskoi  was  a  youth  of  as  fine  and  interesting  a  figure  as  the 
imagination  can  paint.  Of  all  Catherine's  favourites,  he  was  the  man 
whom  she  loved  the  most.  In  1784  he  was  attacked  with  a  fever,  and 
perished  in  the  arms  of  her  Majesty.  When  he  was  no  more,  Catherine 
gave  herself  up  to  the  most  poignant  grief,  and  remained  three  months 
without  going  out  of  her  palace  of  Tzarsko-selo.  She  afterwards  raised 
a  superb  monument  to  his  memory.  (See  Life  of  Catherine  //.,  by 
W.-Tooke,  1800,  iii.  88,  89.)] 

2.  [Ten  months  after  the  death  of  Lansko'i,  the  Empress  consoled 
herself  with  lermolof,  described,  by  Bezborodky,  as  "  a  modest  refined 
young  man,  who  cultivates  the  society  of  serious  people."     In  less  than 
a  year  this  excellent  youth  is,  in  turn,  displaced  by  Dmitrief  Mamonof. 
His  petit  nom  was  Red  Coat,   and,  for  a  time,   he   is  a  "priceless 
creature."     "He  has,"  says  Catherine,  "two  superb  black  eyes,  with 
eyebrows  outlined  as  one  rarely  sees ;  about  the  middle  height,  noble 
in  manner,  easy  in  demeanour."    But  Mamonof  suffered  from  "scruples 
of  conscience,"  and,  after  a  while,  with  Catherine's  consent  and  blessing, 
was  happily  married  to  the  Princess  Shtcherbatof,  a  maid  of  honour, 
and  not,  as  Byron  supposed,  a  rival  "  man  of  the  moment." — See  The 
Story  of  a  Throne,  by  K.  Waliszewski,  1895,  ii.  135,  sq.] 

3.  This  was  written  long  before  the  suicide  of  that  person.     [For 
"  his  parts  of  speech  "  compare — 

"...  that  long  mandarin 

C — stle — r — agh  (whom  Fum  calls  the  Confucius  of  Prose) 
Was  rehearsing  a  speech  upon  Europe's  repose 
To  the  deep  double  bass  of  the  fat  Idol's  nose." 

Moore's  Fum  and  Hum,  The  Two  Birds  of  Royalty.} 


39°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

Of  that  odd  string  of  words,  all  in  a  row, 

Which  none  divine,  and  every  one  obeys, 
Perhaps  you  may  pick  out  some  queer  no  meaning, — 
Of  that  weak  wordy  harvest  the  sole  gleaning. 

L. 

I  think  I  can  explain  myself  without 

That  sad  inexplicable  beast  of  prey — 
That  Sphinx,  whose  words  would  ever  be  a  doubt, 

Did  not  his  deeds  unriddle  them  each  day — 
That  monstrous  hieroglyphic — that  long  spout 

Of  blood  and  water — leaden  Castlereagh  ! 
And  here  I  must  an  anecdote  relate, 
But  luckily  of  no  great  length  or  weight. 

LI. 
An  English  lady  asked  of  an  Italian, 

What  were  the  actual  and  official  duties 
Of  the  strange  thing  some  women  set  a  value  on, 

Which  hovers  oft  about  some  married  beauties, 
Called  "  Cavalier  Servente  ?  "  1 — a  Pygmalion 

Whose  statues  warm  (I  fear,  alas  !  too  true  't  is) 
Beneath  his  art :  '• — the  dame,  pressed  to  disclose  them, 
Said — " Lady,  I  beseech  you  to  suppose  them" 

LII. 
And  thus  I  supplicate  your  supposition, 

And  mildest,  matron-like  interpretation, 
Of  the  imperial  favourite's  condition. 

'T  was  a  high  place,  the  highest  in  the  nation 
In  fact,  if  not  in  rank ;  and  the  suspicion 

Of  any  one's  attaining  to  his  station, 
No  doubt  gave  pain,  where  each  new  pair  of  shoulders, 
If  rather  broad,  made  stocks  rise — and  their  holders. 

LIU. 

Juan,  I  said,  was  a  most  beauteous  boy, 
And  had  retained  his  boyish  look  beyond 

i.  Beneath  his  chisel — 
or,  Beneath  his  touches . — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  [Compare  Reppo,  stanza  xvii.  line  8,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  165. 
See,  too,  letter  to  Hoppner,  December  31,  1819,  Letters,  1900,  iv.  393.] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  391 

The  usual  hirsute  seasons  which  destroy, 

With  beards  and  whiskers,  and  the  like,  the  fond 

Parisian  aspect,  which  upset  old  Troy 

And  founded  Doctors'  Commons  :  '• — I  have  conned 

The  history  of  divorces,  which,  though  chequered, 

Calls  Ilion's  the  first  damages  on  record. 

LIV. 

And  Catherine,  who  loved  all  things  (save  her  Lord, 
Who  was  gone  to  his  place),  and  passed  for  much, 

Admiring  those  (by  dainty  dames  abhorred) 
Gigantic  gentlemen,  yet  had  a  touch 

Of  sentiment :  and  he  she  most  adored 
Was  the  lamented  Lanskoi,  who  was  such 

A  lover  as  had  cost  her  many  a  tear, 

And  yet  but  made  a  middling  grenadier. 

LV. 

Oh  thou  "  teterrima  causa  "  of  all  "  belli" — x 

Thou  gate  of  Life  and  Death — thou  nondescript ! 

Whence  is  our  exit  and  our  entrance, — well  I 
May  pause  in  pondering  how  all  souls  are  dipped 

In  thy  perennial  fountain  : — how  man  fell  I 

Know  not,  since  Knowledge  saw  her  branches  stripped 

Of  her  first  fruit ;  but  how  hefatts  and  rises 

Since, — thou  hast  settled  beyond  all  surmises. 

LVI. 

Some  call  thee  "  the  worst  cause  of  War,"  but  I 

Maintain  thou  art  the  best :  for  after  all, 
From  thee  we  come,  to  thee  we  go,  and  why 

To  get  at  thee  not  batter  down  a  wall, 
Or  waste  a  World  ?  since  no  one  can  deny 

Thou  dost  replenish  worlds  both  great  and  small : 
With — or  without  thee — all  things  at  a  stand il 
Are,  or  would  be,  thou  sea  of  Life's  dry  land !  '"• 

i.  and  bound  fair  Helen  in  a  bond, — [MS.  erased.] 

ii.    That  Riddle  which  all  read,  none  understand. — [MS.  erased.] 
iii.  thou  Sea  which  laves t  Life's  sand. — [MS.  erased.} 

i.  Hor.,  Sat,,  lib.  i.  sat.  iii.  lines  107,  108. 


392  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

LVII. 
Catherine,  who  was  the  grand  Epitome 

Of  that  great  cause  of  War,  or  Peace,  or  what 
You  please  (it  causes  all  the  things  which  be, 

So  you  may  take  your  choice  of  this  or  that) — 
Catherine,  I  say,  was  very  glad  to  see 

The  handsome  herald,  on  whose  plumage  sat l 
Victory ;  and,  pausing  as  she  saw  him  kneel 
With  his  despatch,  forgot  to  break  the  seal. 

LVIII. 
Then  recollecting  the  whole  Empress,  nor 

Forgetting  quite  the  Woman  (which  composed 
At  least  three  parts  of  this  great  whole),  she  tore 

The  letter  open  with  an  air  which  posed 
The  Court,  that  watched  each  look  her  visage  wore, 

Until  a  royal  smile  at  length  disclosed 
Fair  weather  for  the  day.     Though  rather  spacious, 
Her  face  was  noble,  her  eyes  fine,  mouth  gracious. a 

LIX. 
Great  joy  was  hers,  or  rather  joys :  the  first 

Was  a  ta'en  city,  thirty  thousand  slain : 
Glory  and  triumph  o'er  her  aspect  burst, 

As  an  East  Indian  sunrise  on  the  main  : — 
These  quenched  a  moment  her  Ambition's  thirst — 

So  Arab  deserts  drink  in  Summer's  rain  : 
In  vain ! — As  fall  the  dews  on  quenchless  sands, 
Blood  only  serves  to  wash  Ambition's  hands ! 


1.  ["  Fortune  and  victory  sit  on  thy  helm." — Richard  III.,  act  v.  sc. 
3,  line  79.] 

2.  ["Catherine  had  been  handsome  in  her  youth,  and  she  preserved 
a  gracefulness  and  majesty  to  the  last  period  of  her  life.     She  was  of 
a  moderate  stature,  but  well  proportioned  ;  and  as  she  carried  her  head 
very  high,  she  appeared  rather  tall.    She  had  an  open  front,  an  aquiline 
nose,  an  agreeable  mouth,  and  her  chin,  though  long,  was  not  mis- 
shapen.    Her  hair  was  auburn,  her  eyebrows  black  and  rather  thick, 
and  her  blue  eyes  had  a  gentleness  which  was  often  affected,  but 
oftener  still  a  mixture  of  pride.     Her  physiognomy  was  not  deficient  in 
expression ;  but  this  expression  never  discovered  what  was  passing  in 
the  soul  of  Catherine,  or  rather  it  served  her  the  better  to  disguise  it." 
— Life  of  Catherine  II.,  by  W.  Tooke,  iii.  381  (translated  from  Vie  de 
Catherine  //.  (J.  H.  Cast6ra),  1797,  ii.  450).] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  393 

LX. 

Her  next  amusement  was  more  fanciful ; 

She  smiled  at  mad  Suwarrow's  rhymes,  who  threw 
Into  a  Russian  couplet  rather  dull 

The  whole  gazette  of  thousands  whom  he  slew  : 
Her  third  was  feminine  enough  to  annul 

The  shudder  which  runs  naturally  through 
Our  veins,  when  things  called  Sovereigns  think  it  best 
To  kill,  and  Generals  turn  it  into  jest. 

LXI. 

The  two  first  feelings  ran  their  course  complete, 
And  lighted  first  her  eye,  and  then  her  mouth : 

The  whole  court  looked  immediately  most  sweet, 
Like  flowers  well  watered  after  a  long  drouth : — 

But  when  on  the  Lieutenant  at  her  feet 
Her  Majesty,  who  liked  to  gaze  on  youth 

Almost  as  much  as  on  a  new  despatch, 

Glanced  mildly, — all  the  world  was  on  the  watch. 

LXII. 
Though  somewhat  large,  exuberant,  and  truculent, 

When  wroth — while  pleased,  she  was  as  fine  a  figure 
As  those  who  like  things  rosy,  ripe,  and  succulent, 

Would  wish  to  look  on,  while  they  are  in  vigour. 
She  could  repay  each  amatory  look  you  lent 

With  interest,  and,  in  turn,  was  wont  with  rigour 
To  exact  of  Cupid's  bills  the  full  amount 
At  sight,  nor  would  permit  you  to  discount. 

LXIII. 
With  her  the  latter,  though  at  times  convenient, 

Was  not  so  necessary ;  for  they  tell 
That  she  was  handsome,  and  though  fierce  looked  lenient, 

And  always  used  her  favourites  too  well. 
If  once  beyond  her  boudoir's  precincts  in  ye  went, 

Your  "  fortune  "  was  in  a  fair  way  "  to  swell 
A  man  "  (as  Giles  says) ; *  for  though  she  would  widow  all 
Nations,  she  liked  Man  as  an  individual. 

i.  ["His  fortune  swells  him :  Tis  rank,  he  's  married." — Sir  Giles 
Overreach,  in  Massinger's  New  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts,  act  v.  sc.  i.] 


394  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

LXIV. 

What  a  strange  thing  is  Man  !  and  what  a  stranger 
Is  Woman  !     What  a  whirlwind  is  her  head, 

And  what  a  whirlpool  full  of  depth  and  danger 
Is  all  the  rest  about  her !    Whether  wed, 

Or  widow — maid — or  mother,  she  can  change  her 
Mind  like  the  wind :  whatever  she  has  said 

Or  done,  is  light  to  what  she  '11  say  or  do ; — 

The  oldest  thing  on  record,  and  yet  new  ! 

LXV. 
Oh  Catherine  !  (for  of  all  interjections, 

To  thee  both  oh  !  and  ah  I  belong,  of  right, 
In  Love  and  War)  how  odd  are  the  connections 

Of  human  thoughts,  which  jostle  in  their  flight ! 
Just  now  yours  were  cut  out  in  different  sections  : 

First  Ismail's  capture  caught  your  fancy  quite ; 
Next  of  new  knights,  the  fresh  and  glorious  batch : 
And  thirdly  he  who  brought  you  the  despatch  ! 

LXVI. 

Shakespeare  talks  of  "  the  herald  Mercury 
New  lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill :  "  x 

And  some  such  visions  crossed  her  Majesty, 
While  her  young  herald  knelt  before  her  still. 

'T  is  very  true  the  hill  seemed  rather  high, 
For  a  Lieutenant  to  climb  up ;  but  skill 

Smoothed  even  the  Simplon's  steep,  and  by  God's  blessing, 

With  Youth  and  Health  all  kisses  are  "  Heaven-kissing." 

LXVII. 
Her  Majesty  looked  down,  the  youth  looked  up — 

And  so  they  fell  in  love ; — she  with  his  face, 
His  grace,  his  God-knows-what :  for  Cupid's  cup 

With  the  first  draught  intoxicates  apace, 
A  quintessential  laudanum  or  "  Black  Drop," 

Which  makes  one  drunk  at  once,  without  the  base 
Expedient  of  full  bumpers ;  for  the  eye 
In  love  drinks  all  Life's  fountains  (save  tears)  dry. 

i.  [Hamlet,  act  iii.  sc.  iv.  lines  58,  59.] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  395 

LXVIII. 

He,  on  the  other  hand,  if  not  in  love, 

Fell  into  that  no  less  imperious  passion, 
Self-love — which,  when  some  sort  of  thing  above 

Ourselves,  a  singer,  dancer,  much  in  fashion, 
Or  Duchess — Princess — Empress,  "  deigns  to  prove  "  1 

('T  is  Pope's  phrase)  a  great  longing,  though  a  rash  one, 
For  one  especial  person  out  of  many, 
Make  us  believe  ourselves  as  good  as  any. 

LXIX. 
Besides,  he  was  of  that  delighted  age 

Which  makes  all  female  ages  equal — when 
We  don't  much  care  with  whom  we  may  engage, 

As  bold  as  Daniel  in  the  lions'  den, 
So  that  we  can  our  native  sun  assuage 

In  the  next  ocean,  which  may  flow  just  then — 
To  make  a  twilight  in,  just  as  Sol's  heat  is 
Quenched  in  the  lap  of  the  salt  sea,  or  Thetis. 

LXX. 

And  Catherine  (we  must  say  thus  much  for  Catherine), 
Though  bold  and  bloody,  was  the  kind  of  thing 

Whose  temporary  passion  was  quite  flattering, 
Because  each  lover  looked  a  sort  of  King, 

Made  up  upon  an  amatory  pattern, 

A  royal  husband  in  all  save  the  ring — '• 

Which,  (being  the  damnedest  part  of  matrimony,) 

Seemed  taking  out  the  sting  to  leave  the  honey : 

LXXI. 
And  when  you  add  to  this,  her  Womanhood 

In  its  meridian,  her  blue  eyes  2  or  gray — 
(The  last,  if  they  have  soul,  are  quite  as  good, 

Or  better,  as  the  best  examples  say : 

i.  O'er  whom  an  Empress  her  Crown-jewels  scattering 

Was  wed  with  something  better  than  a  ring. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  ["  Not  Caesar's  empress  would  I  deign  to  prove  ; 

No !  make  me  mistress  to  the  man  I  love." 

Pope,  Eloisa  to  Abelard,  lines  87,  88.] 

2.  ["Several  persons  who  lived  at  the  court  affirm  that  Catherine 
had  very  blue  eyes,  and  not  brown,  as  M.  Rulhieres  has  stated." — Life  of 
Catherine  II. ,  by  W.  Tooke,  1800,  iii.  382.] 


396  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

Napoleon's,  Mary's  1  (Queen  of  Scotland),  should 

Lend  to  that  colour  a  transcendent  ray ; 
And  Pallas  also  sanctions  the  same  hue, 
Too  wise  to  look  through  optics  black  or  blue) — 

LXXII. 
Her  sweet  smile,  and  her  then  majestic  figure,'- 

Her  plumpness,  her  imperial  condescension, 
Her  preference  of  a  boy  to  men  much  bigger 

(Fellows  whom  Messalina's  self  would  pension), 
Her  prime  of  life,  just  now  in  juicy  vigour, 

With  other  extras,  which  we  need  not  mention, — 
All  these,  or  any  one  of  these,  explain 
Enough  to  make  a  stripling  very  vain. 

LXXIII. 
And  that 's  enough,  for  Love  is  vanity, 

Selfish  in  its  beginning  as  its  end,"- 
Except  where  't  is  a  mere  insanity, 

A  maddening  spirit  which  would  strive  to  blend 
Itself  with  Beauty's  frail  inanity, 

On  which  the  Passion's  self  seems  to  depend ; 
And  hence  some  heathenish  philosophers 
Make  Love  the  main-spring  of  the  Universe. 

LXXIV. 
Besides  Platonic  love,  besides  the  love 

Of  God,  the  love  of  sentiment,  the  loving 
Of  faithful  pairs — (I  needs  must  rhyme  with  dove, 

That  good  old  steam-boat  which  keeps  verses  moving 
'Gainst  reason — Reason  ne'er  was  hand-and-glove 

With  rhyme,  but  always  leant  less  to  improving 
The  sound  than  sense) — besides  all  these  pretences 
To  Love,  there  are  those  things  which  words  name  senses  ; 

LXXV. 

Those  movements,  those  improvements  in  our  bodies 
Which  make  all  bodies  anxious  to  get  out 

i.  Her  figure,  and  tier  vigour,  and  her  rigour. — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.  In  its  sincere  beginning,  or  dull  end. — [A/5.  erased.] 

i.  [The  historic  Catherine  (at.  62)  was  past  her  meridian  in    the 
spring  of  1791.] 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  397 

Of  their  own  sand-pits,  to  mix  with  a  goddess, 
For  such  all  women  are  at  first  no  doubt.'- 

How  beautiful  that  moment !  and  how  odd  is 
That  fever  which  precedes  the  languid  rout 

Of  our  sensations  !   What  a  curious  way 

The  whole  thing  is  of  clothing  souls  in  clay  ! ii- 

LXXVI.1 

The  noblest  kind  of  love  is  love  Platonical, 
To  end  or  to  begin  with ;  the  next  grand 

Is  that  which  may  be  christened  love  canonical, 
Because  the  clergy  take  the  thing  in  hand ; 

The  third  sort  to  be  noted  in  our  chronicle 
As  flourishing  in  every  Christian  land, 

Is  when  chaste  matrons  to  their  other  ties 

Add  what  may  be  called  marriage  in  disguise. 

LXXVI  I. 

Well,  we  won't  analyse — our  story  must 
Tell  for  itself :  the  Sovereign  was  smitten, 

Juan  much  flattered  by  her  love,  or  lust ; — 
I  cannot  stop  to  alter  words  once  written, 

And  the  two  are  so  mixed  with  human  dust, 
That  he  who  names  one,  both  perchance  may  hit  on : 

But  in  such  matters  Russia's  mighty  Empress 

Behaved  no  better  than  a  common  sempstress. 

LXXVIII. 
The  whole  court  melted  into  one  wide  whisper, 

And  all  lips  were  applied  unto  all  ears  ! 
The  elder  ladies'  wrinkles  curled  much  crisper 

As  they  beheld ;  the  younger  cast  some  leers 
On  one  another,  and  each  lovely  lisper 

Smiled  as  she  talked  the  matter  o'er ;  but  tears 
Of  rivalship  rose  in  each  clouded  eye 
Of  all  the  standing  army  who  stood  by. 

i.  For  such  all  women  are  just  then,  no  doubt. — [MS.} 

ii.   Of  such  sensations,  in  the  drowsy  drear 

After — which  shadows  the,  say — second  year. — [MS.] 

Of  that  sad  heavy,  drowsy,  doubly  drear 

After,  which  shadows  the  first — say,  year. — [MS,  erased.] 

i.  [Stanza  Ixxvi.  is  not  in  the  MS.} 


398  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  ix. 

LXXIX. 

All  the  ambassadors  of  all  the  powers 

Inquired,  Who  was  this  very  new  young  man, 

Who  promised  to  be  great  in  some  few  hours  ? 
Which  is  full  soon  (though  Life  is  but  a  span). 

Already  they  beheld  the  silver  showers 
Of  rubles  rain,  as  fast  as  specie  can, 

Upon  his  cabinet,  besides  the  presents 

Of  several  ribands,  and  some  thousand  peasants.1 

LXXX. 
Catherine  was  generous, — all  such  ladies  are : 

Love — that  great  opener  of  the  heart  and  all 
The  ways  that  lead  there,  be  they  near  or  far, 

Above,  below,  by  turnpikes  great  or  small, — 
Love — (though  she  had  a  curse'd  taste  for  War, 

And  was  not  the  best  wife  unless  we  call 
Such  Clytemnestra,  though  perhaps  't  is  better 
That  one  should  die — than  two  drag  on  the  fetter) — 

LXXXI. 
Love  had  made  Catherine  make  each  lover's  fortune, 

Unlike  our  own  half-chaste  Elizabeth, 
Whose  avarice  all  disbursements  did  importune, 

If  History,  the  grand  liar,  ever  saith 
The  truth ;  and  though  grief  her  old  age  might  shorten, 

Because  she  put  a  favourite  to  death, 
Her  vile,  ambiguous  method  of  flirtation, 
And  stinginess,  disgrace  her  sex  and  station. 

LXXXI  I. 

But  when  the  levee  rose,  and  all  was  bustle 

In  the  dissolving  circle,  all  the  nations' 
Ambassadors  began  as  't  were  to  hustle 

Round  the  young  man  with  their  congratulations. 
Also  the  softer  silks  were  heard  to  rustle 

Of  gentle  dames,  among  whose  recreations 
It  is  to  speculate  on  handsome  faces, 
Especially  when  such  lead  to  high  places. 

i.  A  Russian  estate  is  always  valued  by  the  number  of  the  slaves 
upon  it. 


CANTO  IX.]  DON   JUAN.  399 

LXXXIII. 

Juan,  who  found  himself,  he  knew  not  how, 

A  general  object  of  attention,  made 
His  answers  with  a  very  graceful  bow. 

As  if  born  for  the  ministerial  trade. 
Though  modest,  on  his  unembarrassed  brow 

Nature  had  written  "  Gentleman  ! "     He  said 
Little,  but  to  the  purpose ;  and  his  manner 
Flung  hovering  graces  o'er  him  like  a  banner. 

LXXXIV. 
An  order  from  her  Majesty  consigned 

Our  young  Lieutenant  to  the  genial  care 
Of  those  in  office :  all  the  world  looked  kind, 

(As  it  will  look  sometimes  with  the  first  stare, 
Which  Youth  would  not  act  ill  to  keep  in  mind,) 

As  also  did  Miss  Protasoff l  then  there,'' 
Named  from  her  mystic  office  "  1'Eprouveuse," 
A  term  inexplicable  to  the  Muse. 

LXXXV. 
With  her  then,  as  in  humble  duty  bound, 

Juan  retired, — and  so  will  I,  until 
My  Pegasus  shall  tire  of  touching  ground. 

We  have  just  lit  on  a  "  heaven-kissing  hill," 
So  lofty  that  I  feel  my  brain  turn  round, 

And  all  my  fancies  whirling  like  a  mill ; 
Which  is  a  signal  to  my  nerves  and  brain, 
To  take  a  quiet  ride  in  some  green  lane." 

i.  And  not  be  dazzled  by  its  early  glare, — [MS.  erased.} 

1.  [The  "Protassova"  (born  1744)  was  a  cousin  of   the  Orlofs. 
She  survived  Catherine  by  many  years,  and  was,  writes  M.  Waliszewski 
(The  Story  of  a  Throne,  1895,  ii.  193),   "present  at  the  Congress  of 
Vienna,  covered  with  diamonds  like  a  reliquary,  and  claiming  pre- 
cedence of  every  one."    She  is  named  ttprouveuse  in  a  note  to  the 
Mf moires  Secrets,  1800,  i.  148.] 

2.  End  of  Canto  9th,  Augt.     Sept.,  1822.     B. 


4°°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 


CANTO  THE   TENTH. 


WHEN  Newton  saw  an  apple  fall,  he  found 
In  that  slight  startle  from  his  contemplation — 

'T  is  said  (for  I  '11  not  answer  above  ground 
For  any  sage's  creed  or  calculation) — 

A  mode  of  proving  that  the  Earth  turned  round 
In  a  most  natural  whirl,  called  "  gravitation ; " 

And  this  is  the  sole  mortal  who  could  grapple/- 

Since  Adam — with  a  fall — or  with  an  apple."1 1 

ii. 
Man  fell  with  apples,  and  with  apples  rose, 

If  this  be  true ;  for  we  must  deem  the  mode 
In  which  Sir  Isaac  Newton  could  disclose 

Through  the  then  unpaved  stars  the  turnpike  road/"- 

i.  In  a  most  natural  whirling  of  rotation. — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.  Since  Adam — gloriously  against  an  apple. — [MS.  erased.] 
iii.  To  the  then  unploughed  stars . — [MS.  erased.] 

x.  ["Neither  Pemberton  nor  Whiston,  who  received  from  Newton 
himself  the  history  of  his  first  Ideas  of  Gravity,  records  the  story  of  the 
falling  apple.  It  was  mentioned,  however,  to  Voltaire  by  Catherine 
Barton  (afterwards  Mrs.  Conduit),  Newton's  niece.  We  saw  the 
apple  tree  in  1814.  ...  The  tree  was  so  much  decayed  that  it  was 
taken  down  in  1820  "  (Memoirs,  etc.,  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  by  Sir  David 
Brewster,  1855,  i.  27,  note  i).  Voltaire  tells  the  story  thus  (fcltments 
de  la  Philosophic  de  Newton,  Partie  III.  chap,  iii.)  :  "  Un  jour,  en 
1'ann^e  1666  [1665],  Newton,  retire1  a  la  campagne,  et  voyant  tomber 
des  fruits  d'un  arbre,  a  ce  que  m'a  cont6  sa  niece  (Madame  Conduit),  se 
laissa  aller  a  une  meditation  profonde  sur  la  cause  qui  entraine  ainsi 
tous  les  corps  dans  une  ligne  qui,  si  elle  £tait  prolonge'e,  passerait  a 
peu  pres  par  le  centre  de  la  terre." — CEitvres  Completes,  1837,  v.  727.] 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  401 

A  thing  to  counterbalance  human  woes : * 

For  ever  since  immortal  man  hath  glowed 
With  all  kinds  of  mechanics,  and  full  soon 
Steam-engines  will  conduct  him  to  the  moon. 

in. 
And  wherefore  this  exordium  ? — Why,  just  now, 

In  taking  up  this  paltry  sheet  of  paper, 
My  bosom  underwent  a  glorious  glow, 

And  my  internal  spirit  cut  a  caper : 
And  though  so  much  inferior,  as  I  know, 

To  those  who,  by  the  dint  of  glass  and  vapour, 
Discover  stars,  and  sail  in  the  wind's  eye, 
I  wish  to  do  as  much  by  Poesy. 

IV. 

In  the  wind's  eye  I  have  sailed,  and  sail ;  but  for 
The  stars,  I  own  my  telescope  is  dim  ; 

But  at  the  least  I  have  shunned  the  common  shore, 
And  leaving  land  far  out  of  sight,  would  skim 

The  Ocean  of  Eternity : 2  the  roar 

Of  breakers  has  not  daunted  my  slight,  trim, 

But  still  sea-worthy  skiff ;  and  she  may  float 

Where  ships  have  foundered,  as  doth  many  a  boat. 

v. 
We  left  our  hero,  Juan,  in  the  bloom 

Of  favouritism,  but  not  yet  in  the  blush  ; — 
And  far  be  it  from  my  Muses  to  presume 

(For  I  have  more  than  one  Muse  at  a  push), 
To  follow  him  beyond  the  drawing-room  : 

It  is  enough  that  Fortune  found  him  flush 
Of  Youth,  and  Vigour,  Beauty,  and  those  things 
Which  for  an  instant  clip  Enjoyment's  wings. 

VI. 

But  soon  they  grow  again  and  leave  their  nest. 
"  Oh ! "  saith  the  Psalmist,  "  that  I  had  a  dove's 

1.  [Compare  Churchilts  Grave,  line  23,  Poetical   Works,  1901,  iv. 
47,  note  i.] 

2.  [Shelley  entitles  him  "The  Pilgrim  of  Eternity,"  in  his  Adonais 
(stanza  xxx.  line  3),  which  was  written  and  published  at  Pisa  in  1821.  | 

VOL.  VI.  2    D 


402  DON  JUAN.  ,       [CANTO  x. 

Pinions  to  flee  away,  and  be  at  rest ! " 
And  who  that  recollects  young  years  and  loves, — 

Though  hoary  now,  and  with  a  withering  breast, 
And  palsied  Fancy,  which  no  longer  roves 

Beyond  its  dimmed  eye's  sphere, — but  would  much  rather 

Sigh  like  his  son,  than  cough  like  his  grandfather  ? 

VII. 

But  sighs  subside,  and  tears  (even  widows')  shrink, 
Like  Arno  l  in  the  summer,  to  a  shallow, 

So  narrow  as  to  shame  their  wintry  brink, 

Which  threatens  inundations  deep  and  yellow  ! 

Such  difference  doth  a  few  months  make.     You  'd  think 
Grief  a  rich  field  which  never  would  lie  fallow ; 

No  more  it  doth — its  ploughs  but  change  their  boys, 

Who  furrow  some  new  soil  to  sow  for  joys. 

VIII. 

But  coughs  will  come  when  sighs  depart — and  now 
And  then  before  sighs  cease ;  for  oft  the  one 

Will  bring  the  other,  ere  the  lake-like  brow 
Is  ruffled  by  a  wrinkle,  or  the  Sun 

Of  Life  reached  ten  o'clock :  and  while  a  glow, 
Hectic  and  brief  as  summer's  day  nigh  done, 

O'erspreads  the  cheek  which  seems  too  pure  for  clay, 

Thousands  blaze,  love,  hope,  die, — how  happy  they  ! — 

IX. 

But  Juan  was  not  meant  to  die  so  soon  : — 

We  left  him  in  the  focus  of  such  glory 
As  may  be  won  by  favour  of  the  moon 

Or  ladies'  fancies — rather  transitory 
Perhaps ;  but  who  would  scorn  the  month  of  June, 

Because  December,  with  his  breath  so  hoary, 
Must  come  ?    Much  rather  should  he  court  the  ray, 
To  hoard  up  warmth  against  a  wintry  day. 

x. 

Besides,  he  had  some  qualities  which  fix 
Middle-aged  ladies  even  more  than  young : 

i.  [Byron  left  Pisa  (Palazzo  Lanfranchi  on  the  Arno)  for  the  Villa 
Saluzzo  at  Genoa,  in  the  autumn  of  1822.] 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  403 

The  former  know  what 's  what ;  while  new-fledged  chicks 
Know  little  more  of  Love  than  what  is  sung 

In  rhymes,  or  dreamt  (for  Fancy  will  play  tricks) 
In  visions  of  those  skies  from  whence  Love  sprung. 

Some  reckon  women  by  their  suns  or  years, 

I  rather  think  the  Moon  should  date  the  dears. 

XI. 

And  why  ?  because  she  's  changeable  and  chaste : 

I  know  no  other  reason,  whatsoe'er 
Suspicious  people,  who  find  fault  in  haste,'1 

May  choose  to  tax  me  with ;  which  is  not  fair, 
Nor  flattering  to  "  their  temper  or  their  taste," 

As  my  friend  Jeffrey  writes  with  such  an  air : 1 
However,  I  forgive  him,  and  I  trust 
He  will  forgive  himself; — if  not,  I  must. 

XII. 

Old  enemies  who  have  become  new  friends 
Should  so  continue — 't  is  a  point  of  honour ; 

And  I  know  nothing  which  could  make  amends 
For  a  return  to  Hatred  :  I  would  shun  her 

Like  garlic,  howsoever  she  extends 

Her  hundred  arms  and  legs,  and  fain  outrun  her. 

Old  flames,  new  wives,  become  our  bitterest  foes — 

Converted  foes  should  scorn  to  join  with  those. 

XIII. 

This  were  the  worst  desertion  : — renegadoes. 
Even  shuffling  Southey,  that  incarnate  lie,"4 

5.  Malicious  people . — [MS.  erased.} 

ii.  that  essence  of  all  Lie. — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  ["  We  think  the  abuse  of  Mr.  Southey  .  .  .  by  far  too  savage  and 
intemperate.  It  is  of  ill  example,  we  think,  in  the  literary  world,  and 
does  no  honour  either  to  the  taste  or  the  temper  of  the  noble  author." 
— Edinburgh  Review,  February,  1822,  vol.  xxxvi.  p.  445. 

"  I  have  read  the  recent  article  of  Jeffrey.  ...  I  suppose  the  long  and 
the  short  of  it  is,  that  he  wishes  to  provoke  me  to  reply.  But  I  won't, 
for  I  owe  him  a  good  turn  still  for  his  kindness  by-gone.  Indeed,  I 
presume  that  the  present  opportunity  of  attacking  me  again  was  irre- 
sistible ;  and  I  can't  blame  him,  knowing  what  human  nature  is." — 
Letter  to  Moore,  June  8,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  80.] 


404  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

Would  scarcely  join  again  the  "  reformadoes," l 
Whom  he  forsook  to  fill  the  Laureate's  sty ; 

And  honest  men  from  Iceland  to  Barbadoes, 
Whether  in  Caledon  or  Italy, 

Should  not  veer  round  with  every  breath,  nor  seize 

To  pain,  the  moment  when  you  cease  to  please. 

XIV. 

The  lawyer  and  the  critic  but  behold 
The  baser  sides  of  literature  and  life, 

And  nought  remains  unseen,  but  much  untold, 
By  those  who  scour  those  double  vales  of  strife. 

While  common  men  grow  ignorantly  old, 
The  lawyer's  brief  is  like  the  surgeon's  knife, 

Dissecting  the  whole  inside  of  a  question, 

And  with  it  all  the  process  of  digestion. 

xv.2 

A  legal  broom  's  a  moral  chimney-sweeper, 
And  that 's  the  reason  he  himself 's  so  dirty ; 

The  endless  soot 3  bestows  a  tint  far  deeper 
Than  can  be  hid  by  altering  his  shirt ;  he 

Retains  the  sable  stains  of  the  dark  creeper, 
At  least  some  twenty-nine  do  out  of  thirty, 

In  all  their  habits ; — not  so  you>  I  own ; 

As  Caesar  wore  his  robe  you  wear  your  gown.4 

XVI. 

And  all  our  little  feuds,  at  least  all  mine, 
Dear  Jeffrey,  once  my  most  redoubted  foe 

1.  "  Reformers,"  or  rather  "  Reformed."    The  Baron  Bradwardine 
in    Waverley  is  authority  for  the  word.    [The  word  is  certainly  in 
Butler's  Hudibras,  Part  II.  Canto  z — 

"Although  your  Church  be  opposite 
To  mine  as  Black  Fryars  are  to  White, 
In  Rule  and  Order,  yet  I  grant 
You  are  a  Reformado  Saint. "] 

2.  [Stanza  xv.  is  not  in  the  MS.   The  "legal  broom,"  sc.  Brougham, 
was  an  afterthought.] 

3.  Query,  suit  ? — Printer's  Devil. 

4.  [It  has  been  argued  that  when  "great  Caesar  fell"  he  wore  his 
"robe"  to  muffle  up  his  face,  and  that,  in  like  manner,  Jeffrey  sank 
the  critic  in  the  lawyer.     A  "  deal  likelier  "  interpretation  is  that  Jeffrey 
wore  "his  gown  "  right  royally,  as  Caesar  wore  his  "  triumphal  robe." 
(See  Plutarch's  Julius  Ccesar,  Langhorne's  translation,  1838,  p.  515-)] 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  405 

(As  far  as  rhyme  and  criticism  combine 
To  make  such  puppets  of  us  things  below), 

Are  over :  Here's  a  health  to  "  Auld  Lang  Syne  ! " 
I  do  not  know  you,  and  may  never  know 

Your  face — but  you  have  acted  on  the  whole 

Most  nobly,  and  I  own  it  from  my  soul. 

XVII. 

And  when  I  use  the  phrase  of  "  Auld  Lang  Syne ! " 
'T  is  not  addressed  to  you — the  more  's  the  pity 

For  me,  for  I  would  rather  take  my  wine 

With  you,  than  aught  (save  Scott)  in  your  proud  city  : 

But  somehow — it  may  seem  a  schoolboy's  whine, 
And  yet  I  seek  not  to  be  grand  nor  witty, 

But  I  am  half  a  Scot  by  birth,  and  bred 

A  whole  one,  and  my  heart  flies  to  my  head, — l 

XVIII. 

As  "  Auld  Lang  Syne  "  brings  Scotland,  one  and  all,2 
Scotch  plaids,  Scotch  snoods,  the  blue  hills,  and  clear 
streams, 

The  Dee — the  Don — Balgounie's  brig's  black  wall —  3 
All  my  boy  feelings,  all  my  gentler  dreams 

Of  what  I  then  dreamt ',  clothed  in  their  own  pall, — 
Like  Banquo's  offspring — floating  past  me  seems 

1.  ["I  don't  like  to  bore  you  about  the  Scotch  novels  (as  they  call 
them,  though  two  of  them  are  English,  and  the  rest  half  so) ;    but 
nothing  can  or  could  ever  persuade  me,  since  I  was  the  first  ten 
minutes  in  your  company,  that  you  are  not  the  man.    To  me  these 
novels  have  so  much  of  '  Auld  Lang  Syne '  (I  was  bred  a  canny  Scot  till 
ten  years  old),  that  I  never  move  without  them." — Letter  to  Sir  W. 
Scott,  January  12,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  4,  5.] 

2.  [Compare  The  Island,  Canto  II.  lines  280-297.] 

3.  The  brig  of  Don,  near  the  "auld  toun"  of  Aberdeen,  with  its  one 
arch,  and  its  black  deep  salmon  stream  below,  is  in  my  memory  as 
yesterday.     I  still  remember,  though  perhaps  I  may  misquote,  the 
awful  proverb  which  made  me  pause  to  cross  it,  and  yet  lean  over  it 
with  a  childish  delight,  being  an  only  son,  at  least  by  the  mother's  side. 
The  saying  as  recollected  by  me  was  this,  but  I  have  never  heard  or 
seen  it  since  I  was  nine  years  of  age : — 

' '  Brig  of  Balgounie,  black  's  your  wo,', 
Wi'  a  wife's  ae  son,  and  a  mear's  aefoal, 
Doun  ye  shall  fa' !  " 

[See  for  illustration  of  the  Brig  o'  Balgownie,  with  its  single  Gothic 
arch,  Letters,  1901  [L. P.],  v.  406.] 


406  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

My  childhood,  in  this  childishness  of  mine : — 
-I  care  not — 't  is  a  glimpse  of  "  Auld Lang  Syne" 

XIX. 

And  though,  as  you  remember,  in  a  fit 

Of  wrath  and  rhyme,  when  juvenile  and  curly, 

I  railed  at  Scots  to  show  my  wrath  and  wit, 
Which  must  be  owned  was  sensitive  and  surly, 

Yet 't  is  in  vain  such  sallies  to  permit, 

They  cannot  quench  young  feelings  fresh  and  early  : 

I  "  scotched  not  killed  "  the  Scotchman  in  my  blood, 

And  love  the  land  of  "  mountain  and  of  flood." * 

xx. 

Don  Juan,  who  was  real,  or  ideal, — 

For  both  are  much  the  same,  since  what  men  think 
Exists  when  the  once  thinkers  are  less  real 

Than  what  they  thought,  for  Mind  can  never  sink, 
And  'gainst  the  Body  makes  a  strong  appeal ; 

And  yet 't  is  very  puzzling  on  the  brink 
Of  what  is  called  Eternity  to  stare, 
And  know  no  more  of  what  is  here,  than  there  ; — 

XXI. 

Don  Juan  grew  a  very  polished  Russian — 
How  we  won't  mention,  why  we  need  not  say : 

Few  youthful  minds  can  stand  the  strong  concussion 
Of  any  slight  temptation  in  their  way ; 

But  his  just  now  were  spread  as  is  a  cushion 
Smoothed  for  a  Monarch's  seat  of  honour  :  gay 

Damsels,  and  dances,  revels,  ready  money, 

Made  ice  seem  Paradise,  and  winter  sunny. 

xxn. 
The  favour  of  the  Empress  was  agreeable ; 

And  though  the  duty  waxed  a  little  hard, 
Young  people  at  his  time  of  life  should  be  able 

To  come  off  handsomely  in  that  regard. 
He  was  now  growing  up  like  a  green  tree,  able 

For  Love,  War,  or  Ambition,  which  reward 

i.  ["  Land  of  brown  heath  and  shaggy  wood, 

Land  of  the  mountain  and  the  flood,"  etc. 

Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  Canto  VI.  stanza  ii.] 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  407 

Their  luckier  votaries,  till  old  Age's  tedium 
Make  some  prefer  the  circulating  medium. 

XXIII. 

About  this  time,  as  might  have  been  anticipated, 
Seduced  by  Youth  arid  dangerous  examples, 

Don  Juan  grew,  I  fear,  a  little  dissipated ; 
Which  is  a  sad  thing,  and  not  only  tramples 

On  our  fresh  feelings,  but — as  being  participated 
With  all  kinds  of  incorrigible  samples 

Of  frail  humanity — must  make  us  selfish, 

And  shut  our  souls  up  in  us  like  a  shell-fish. 

XXIV. 

This  we  pass  over.     We  will  also  pass 

The  usual  progress  of  intrigues  between 
Unequal  matches,  such  as  are,  alas  ! 

A  young  Lieutenant's  with  a  not  old  Queen, 
But  one  who  is  not  so  youthful  as  she  was 

In  all  the  royalty  of  sweet  seventeen.'- 
Sovereigns  may  sway  materials,  but  not  matter, 
And  wrinkles,  the  d d  democrats  !  won't  flatter. 

xxv. 
And  Death,  the  Sovereign's  Sovereign,  though  the  great 

Gracchus  of  all  mortality,  who  levels, 
With  his  Agrarian  laws,1  the  high  estate 

Of  him  who  feasts,  and  fights,  and  roars,  and  revels, 
To  one  small  grass-grown  patch  (which  must  await 

Corruption  for  its  crop)  with  the  poor  devils 
Who  never  had  a  foot  of  land  till  now, — 
Death  's  a  reformer — all  men  must  allow. 

XXVI. 

He  lived  (not  Death,  but  Juan)  in  a  hurry 

Of  waste,  and  haste,  and  glare,  and  gloss,  and  glitter, 

i.  Some  thirty  years  before  at  fair  eighteen. — \MS,~\ 
or,  Seven  and  twenty — which,  it  does  not  matter, — 

Wrinkles,  tJwse  damnedst  democrats,  won  t flatter. — [MS.  erased.} 

i.  Tiberius  Gracchus,  being  tribune  of  the  people,  demanded  in  their 
name  the  execution  of  the  Agrarian  law ;  by  which  all  persons  possess- 
ing above  a  certain  number  of  acres  were  to  be  deprived  of  the  surplus 
for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  citizens. 


4°8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

In  this  gay  clime  of  bear-skins  black  and  furry — 
Which  (though  I  hate  to  say  a  thing  that 's  bitter) 

Peep  out  sometimes,  when  things  are  in  a  flurry, 
Through  all  the  "  purple  and  fine  linen,"  fitter 

For  Babylon's  than  Russia's  royal  harlot — 

And  neutralise  her  outward  show  of  scarlet. 

XXVII. 

And  this  same  state  we  won't  describe  :  we  would 
Perhaps  from  hearsay,  or  from  recollection ; 

But  getting  nigh  grim  Dante's  "  obscure  wood,"  1 
That  horrid  equinox,  that  hateful  section 

Of  human  years — that  half-way  house — that  rude 

Hut,  whence  wise  travellers  drive  with  circumspec- 
tion '• 

Life's  sad  post-horses  o'er  the  dreary  frontier 

Of  Age,  and  looking  back  to  Youth,  give  one  tear ; — 

XXVIII. 

I  won't  describe, — that  is,  if  I  can  help 
Description ;  and  I  won't  reflect, — that  is, 

If  I  can  stave  off  thought,  which — as  a  whelp 
Clings  to  its  teat — sticks  to  me  through  the  abyss 

Of  this  odd  labyrinth  •  or  as  the  kelp 
Holds  by  the  rock ;  or  as  a  lover's  kiss 

Drains  its  first  draught  of  lips : — but,  as  I  said, 

I  won't  philosophise,  and  will  be  read. 

XXIX. 

Juan,  instead  of  courting  courts,  was  courted, — 
A  thing  which  happens  rarely :  this  he  owed 

Much  to  his  youth,  and  much  to  his  reported 
Valour ;  much  also  to  the  blood  he  showed, 

Like  a  race-horse ;  much  to  each  dress  he  sported, 
Which  set  the  beauty  off  in  which  he  glowed, 

As  purple  clouds  befringe  the  sun ;  but  most 

He  owed  to  an  old  woman  and  his  post. 

i.  Hut  -where  we  travellers  bait  with  dim  reflection, — [MS.  erased.} 

i.  "Mi  ritrovai  per  una  selva  oscura." 

Inferno,  Canto  I.  line  2. 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  409 

XXX. 

He  wrote  to  Spain ; — and  all  his  near  relations, 

Perceiving  he  was  in  a  handsome  way 
Of  getting  on  himself,  and  finding  stations 

For  cousins  also,  answered  the  same  day. 
Several  prepared  themselves  for  emigrations ; 

And  eating  ices,  were  o'erheard  to  say, 
That  with  the  addition  of  a  slight  pelisse, 
Madrid's  and  Moscow's  climes  were  of  a  piece. 

XXXI. 

His  mother,  Donna  Inez,  rinding,  too, 
That  in  the  lieu  of  drawing  on  his  banker, 

Where  his  assets  were  waxing  rather  few, 

He  had  brought  his  spending  to  a  handsome  anchor, — 

Replied,  "  that  she  was  glad  to  see  him  through 

Those  pleasures  after  which  wild  youth  will  hanker ; 

As  the  sole  sign  of  Man's  being  in  his  senses 

Is — learning  to  reduce  his  past  expenses.'- 

XXXII. 

"  She  also  recommended  him  to  God, 

And  no  less  to  God's  Son,  as  well  as  Mother, 

Warned  him  against  Greek  worship,  which  looks  odd 
In  Catholic  eyes ;  but  told  him,  too,  to  smother 

Outward  dislike,  which  don't  look  well  abroad ; 
Informed  him  that  he  had  a  little  brother 

Born  in  a  second  wedlock ;  and  above 

All,  praised  the  Empress's  maternal  love. 

XXXIII. 

"  She  could  not  too  much  give  her  approbation 
Unto  an  Empress,  who  preferred  young  men 

Whose  age,  and  what  was  better  still,  whose  nation 
And  climate,  stopped  all  scandal  (now  and  then) ; — 

At  home  it  might  have  given  her  some  vexation ; 
But  where  thermometers  sink  down  to  ten, 

Or  five,  or  one,  or  zero,  she  could  never 

Believe  that  Virtue  thawed  before  the  river."  "• 

i.  Is  -when  he  learns  to  limit  his  expenses. — [MS.  erased.} 

ii.  till  the  ice 

Cracked,  she  would  ne'er  believe  in  thaws  for  vice. — [AfS.  erased.] 


4*°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

xxxiv. 

Oh  for  a  forty-parson  power1  to  chant 
Thy  praise,  Hypocrisy  !     Oh  for  a  hymn 

Loud  as  the  virtues  thou  dost  loudly  vaunt, 
Not  practise  !     Oh  for  trump  of  Cherubim  ! 

Or  the  ear-trumpet  of  my  good  old  aunt,2 
Who,  though  her  spectacles  at  last  grew  dim, 

Drew  quiet  consolation  through  its  hint, 

When  she  no  more  could  read  the  pious  print. 

xxxv. 
She  was  no  Hypocrite  at  least,  poor  soul, 

But  went  to  heaven  in  as  sincere  a  way 
As  anybody  on  the  elected  roll, 

Which  portions  out  upon  the  Judgment  Day 
Heaven's  freeholds,  in  a  sort  of  Doomsday  scroll, 

Such  as  the  conqueror  William  did  repay 
His  knights  with,  lotting  others'  properties 
Into  some  sixty  thousand  new  knights'  fees. 

xxxvi. 
I  can't  complain,  whose  ancestors  are  there, 

Erneis,  Radulphus — eight-and-forty  manors 
(If  that  my  memory  doth  not  greatly  err) 

Were  their  reward  for  following  Billy's  banners  : 3 

1.  A  metaphor  taken  from  the  "forty-horse  power"  of  a  steam- 
engine.    That  mad  wag,  the  Reverend  Sydney  Smith,  sitting  by  a 
brother  clergyman  at  dinner,  observed  afterwards  that  his  dull  neigh- 
bour had  a  "  twelve-parson  power"  of  conversation. 

2.  [In  a  letter  to  his  sister,  October  25,  1804  (Letters,  1898,  i.  40), 
Byron  mentions  an  aunt — "  the  amiable  antiquated  Sophia,"  and  asks, 
"  Is  she  yet  in  the  land  of  the  living,  or  does  she  sing  psalms  with  the 
Blessed  in  the  other  world?"    This  was  his  father's  sister,  Sophia 
Maria,  daughter  of  Admiral  the  Hon.  John  Byron.     But  his  ' '  good  old 
aunt"  is,    more  probably,   the  Hon.   Mrs.  Frances  Byron,  widow  of 
George  (born  April  22,  1730)  son  of  the  fourth,  and  brother  of  the 
"Wicked"  lord.     She  was    the    daughter   and    co-heiress  of   Ellis 
Levett,  Esq.,  and  lived  "at  Nottingham  in  her  own  house."    She  died, 
aged  86,  June  13,  1822,  not  long  before  this  Canto  was  written.     She 
is  described  in  the  obituary  notice  of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  June, 
1822,  vol.  92,  p.  573,  as  "Daughter  of  Vice- Admiral  the  Hon.  John 
Byron  (who  sailed  round  the  world  with  Lord  Anson),  grandfather  of 
the  present   Lord   Byron."     But  that  is,  chronologically,  impossible. 
Byron  must  have  retained  a  pleasing  recollection  of  the  ear-trumpet 
and  the  spectacles,  and  it  gratified  his  kindlier  humour  to  embalm  their 
owner  in  his  verse.] 

3.  [See  Collins's  Peerage,  1779,  vii.  120.    It  is  probable.that  Byron  was 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  411 

And  though  I  can't  help  thinking  't  was  scarce  fair 
To  strip  the  Saxons  of  their  hydes 1  like  tanners ; 
Yet  as  they  founded  churches  with  the  produce, 
You  '11  deem,  no  doubt,  they  put  it  to  a  good  use.'- 

XXXVII. 

The  gentle  Juan  flourished,  though  at  times 

He  felt  like  other  plants  called  sensitive, 
Which  shrink  from  touch,  as  Monarchs  do  from  rhymes, 

Save  such  as  Southey  can  afford  to  give. 
Perhaps  he  longed  in  bitter  frosts  for  climes 

In  which  the  Neva's  ice  would  cease  to  live 
Before  May-day :  perhaps,  despite  his  duty, 
In  Royalt/s  vast  arms  he  sighed  for  Beauty  : 

XXXVIII. 

Perhaps — but,  sans  perhaps,  we  need  not  seek iL 
For  causes  young  or  old :  the  canker-worm 

Will  feed  upon  the  fairest,  freshest  cheek, 
As  well  as  further  drain  the  withered  form  : 

Care,  like  a  housekeeper,  brings  every  week 
His  bills  in,  and  however  we  may  storm, 

They  must  be  paid :  though  six  days  smoothly  run, 

The  seventh  will  bring  blue  devils  or  a  dun. 

xxxix. 
I  don't  know  how  it  was,  but  he  grew  sick : 

The  Empress  was  alarmed,  and  her  physician 
(The  same  who  physicked  Peter)  found  the  tick 

Of  his  fierce  pulse  betoken  a  condition 
Which  augured  of  the  dead,  however  quick 

Itself,  and  showed  a  feverish  disposition ; 

i.  And  humbly  hope  that  the  same  God  which  hath  given 

Us  land  on  earth,  will  do  no  less  in  Heaven, — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.  Perhaps — but  d — n  perhaps . — [MS.] 

lineally  descended  from  Ralph  de  Burun,  of  Horestan,  who  is  men- 
tioned in  Doomsday  Book  (sect,  xi.)  as  holding  eight  lordships  in 
Notts  and  five  in  Derbyshire,  but  with  regard  to  Ernysius  or  Erneis  the 
pedigree  is  silent.  (See  Pedigree  of  George  Gordon,  Sixth  Lord  Byron, 
by  Edward  Bernard,  1870.)] 

i.  "  Hyde." — I  believe  a  hyde  of  land  to  be  a  legitimate  word,  and, 
as  such,  subject  to  the  tax  of  a  quibble. 


412  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

At  which  the  whole  Court  was  extremely  troubled, 
The  Sovereign  shocked,  and  all  his  medicines  doubled. 

XL. 
Low  were  the  whispers,  manifold  the  rumours  : 

Some  said  he  had  been  poisoned  by  Potemkin; 
Others  talked  learnedly  of  certain  tumours, 

Exhaustion,  or  disorders  of  the  same  kin ; l 
Some  said  't  was  a  concoction  of  the  humours, 

Which  with  the  blood  too  readily  will  claim  kin  : 
Others  again  were  ready  to  maintain, 
"  'T  was  only  the  fatigue  of  last  campaign." 

XLI. 
But  here  is  one  prescription  out  of  many : 

"  Soda,  sulphat.  svj.  sfs.  Manna  optim. 
Aq.  fervent,  f.  3  ifs.  jij.  tinct.  Senna 

Haustus"  (And  here  the  surgeon  came  and  cupped  him) 
"  R  Pulv.  Com.  gr.  iij.  Ipecacuanha  " 

(With  more  beside  if  Juan  had  not  stopped  'em). 
"  Bolus  Potassce  Sulphuret.  sumendus, 
Et haustus  ter  in  die  eapiendus" 

XLII. 
This  is  the  way  physicians  mend  or  end  us, 

Seeundum  artem  ;  but  although  we  sneer 
In  health — when  ill,  we  call  them  to  attend  us, 

Without  the  least  propensity  to  jeer ; 
While  that  "  hiatus  maxime  deflendus  " 

To  be  filled  up  by  spade  or  mattock  's  near, 
Instead  of  gliding  graciously  down  Lethe, 
We  tease  mild  Baillie,2  or  soft  Abernethy. 

1.  [For  the  illness  ("a  scarlet  fever,  complicated  by  angina,  both 
aggravated  by  premature  exhaustion  ")  and  death  of  Lanskoi',  see  The 
Story  of  a  Throne,  by  K.  Waliszewsky,  1895,  ii.  131,  133.    For  the 
rumour  that  he  was  poisoned  by  Potemkin,  see  Mlmoires  Secrets,  etc. 
[by  C.  F.  P.  Masson],  1800,  i.  170.] 

2.  [Matthew  Baillie  (1761-1823),  the  nephew  of  William  Hunter,  the 
brother  of  Agnes  and  Joanna  Baillie,  was  a  celebrated  anatomist.     He 
attended  Byron  (1799-1802),  when  an  endeavour  was  made  to  effect  a 
cure  of  the  muscular  contraction  of  his  right  leg  and  foot.     He  was 
consulted  by  Lady  Byron,  in  1816,  with  regard  to  her  husband's  sup- 
posed derangement,  but  was  not  admitted  when  he  called  at  the  house 
in  Piccadilly.     He  is  said  to  have  "avoided  technical  and  learned 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  413 

XLIII. 

Juan  demurred  at  this  first  notice  to 

Quit ;  and  though  Death  had  threatened  an  ejection, 
His  youth  and  constitution  bore  him  through, 

And  sent  the  doctors  in  a  new  direction. 
But  still  his  state  was  delicate :  the  hue 

Of  health  but  flickered  with  a  faint  reflection 
Along  his  wasted  cheek,  and  seemed  to  gravel 
The  faculty — who  said  that  he  must  travel. 

XLIV. 
The  climate  was  too  cold,  they  said,  for  him, 

Meridian-born,  to  bloom  in.     This  opinion 
Made  the  chaste  Catherine  look  a  little  grim, 

Who  did  not  like  at  first  to  lose  her  minion : 
But  when  she  saw  his  dazzling  eye  wax  dim, 

And  drooping  like  an  eagle's  with  clipt  pinion, 
She  then  resolved  to  send  him  on  a  mission, 
But  in  a  style  becoming  his  condition. 

XLV. 
There  was  just  then  a  kind  of  a  discussion, 

A  sort  of  treaty  or  negotiation, 
Between  the  British  cabinet  and  Russian, 

Maintained  with  all  the  due  prevarication 
With  which  great  states  such  things  are  apt  to  push  on ; 

Something  about  the  Baltic's  navigation, 
Hides,  train-oil,  tallow,  and  the  rights  of  Thetis, 
Which  Britons  deem  their  uti  possidetis. 

XLVI. 

So  Catherine,  who  had  a  handsome  way 
Of  fitting  out  her  favourites,  conferred 

phrases ;  to  have  affected  no  sentimental  tenderness,  but  expressed 
what  he  had  to  say  in  the  simplest  and  plainest  terms "  (Annual 
Biography,  1824,  p.  319).  Jekyll  (Letters,  1894,  p.  no)  repeats  or 
invents  an  anecdote  that  "  the  old  king,  in  his  mad  fits,  used  to  say 
he  could  bring  any  dead  people  to  converse  with  him,  except  those 
who  had  died  under  Baillie's  care,  for  that  the  doctor  always  dissected 
them  into  so  many  morsels,  that  they  had  not  a  leg  to  walk  to  Windsor 
with."  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  John  Abernethy  (1764-1831) 
"  expressed  what  he  had  to  say  "  in  the  bluntest  and  rudest  terms  at 
his  disposal.] 


4i4  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

This  secret  charge  on  Juan,  to  display 
At  once  her  royal  splendour,  and  reward 

His  services.     He  kissed  hands  the  next  day, 
Received  instructions  how  to  play  his  card, 

Was  laden  with  all  kinds  of  gifts  and  honours, 

Which  showed  what  great  discernment  was  the  donor's. 

XLVII. 
But  she  was  lucky,  and  luck  's  all.     Your  Queens 

Are  generally  prosperous  in  reigning — 
Which  puzzles  us  to  know  what  Fortune  means : — 

But  to  continue — though  her  years  were  waning, 
Her  climacteric  teased  her  like  her  teens  ; 

And  though  her  dignity  brooked  no  complaining, 
So  much  did  Juan's  setting  off  distress  her, 
She  could  not  find  at  first  a  fit  successor. 

XLVIII. 
But  Time,  the  comforter,  will  come  at  last  ; 

And  four-and-twenty  hours,  and  twice  that  number 
Of  candidates  requesting  to  be  placed, 

Made  Catherine  taste  next  night  a  quiet  slumber  : — 
Not  that  she  meant  to  fix  again  in  haste, 

Nor  did  she  find  the  quantity  encumber, 
But  always  choosing  with  deliberation, 
Kept  the  place  open  for  their  emulation. 

XLIX. 
While  this  high  post  of  honour  's  in  abeyance, 

For  one  or  two  days,  reader,  we  request 
You  '11  mount  with  our  young  hero  the  conveyance 

Which  wafted  him  from  Petersburgh  :  the  best 
Barouche,  which  had  the  glory  to  display  once 

The  fair  Czarina's  autocratic  crest, 
When,  a  new  Iphigene,  she  went  to  Tauris, 
Was  given  to  her  favourite,1  and  now  bore  his. 

i.  The  empress  went  to  the  Crimea,  accompanied  by  the  Emperor 
Joseph,  in  the  year — I  forget  which. 

[The  Prince  de  Ligne,  who  accompanied  Catherine  in  her  progress 
through  her  southern  provinces,  in  1787,  gives  the  following  particu- 
lars :  "  We  have  crossed  during  many  days  vast,  solitary  regions,  from 
which  her  Majesty  has  driven  Zaporogua,  Budjak,  and  Nogais  Tartars, 
who,  ten  years  ago,  threatened  to  ravage  her  empire.  All  these  places 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  415 


A  bull-dog,  and  a  bullfinch,  and  an  ermine, 

All  private  favourites  of  Don  Juan ; — for 
(Let  deeper  sages  the  true  cause  determine) 

He  had  a  kind  of  inclination,  or 
Weakness,  for  what  most  people  deem  mere  vermin, 

Live  animals :  an  old  maid  of  threescore 
For  cats  and  birds  more  penchant  ne'er  displayed, 
Although  he  was  not  old,  nor  even  a  maid  ; — 

LI. 

The  animals  aforesaid  occupied 

Their  station  :  there  were  valets,  secretaries, 
In  other  vehicles ;  but  at  his  side 

Sat  little  Leila,  who  survived  the  parries 
He  made  'gainst  Cossacque  sabres  in  the  wide 

Slaughter  of  Ismail.     Though  my  wild  Muse  varies 
Her  note,  she  don't  forget  the  infant  girl 
Whom  he  preserved,  a  pure  and  living  pearl. 

LII. 
Poor  little  thing  !     She  was  as  fair  as  docile, 

And  with  that  gentle,  serious  character, 
As  rare  in  living  beings  as  a  fossile 

Man,  'midst  thy  mouldy  mammoths, "  grand  Cuvier  ! "  '• 
111  fitted  was  her  ignorance  to  jostle 

With  this  o'erwhelming  world,  where  all  must  err : 
But  she  was  yet  but  ten  years  old,  and  therefore 
Was  tranquil,  though  she  knew  not  why  or  wherefore. 

mi. 

Don  Juan  loved  her,  and  she  loved  him,  as 
Nor  brother,  father,  sister,  daughter  love. — 

i.  Man,  midst  thy  mouldy  mammoths,  Cuvier. — [MS.'] 

were  furnished  with  magnificent  tents  for  breakfasts,  lunches,  dinners, 
suppers,  and  sleeping-rooms  .  .  .  deserted  regions  were  at  once  trans- 
formed into  fields,  groves,  villages ;  .  .  .  The  Empress  has  left  in 
each  chief  town  gifts  to  the  value  of  a  hundred  thousand  roubles. 
Every  day  that  we  remained  stationary  was  marked  with  diamonds, 
balls,  fireworks,  and  illuminations  throughout  a  circuit  of  ten  leagues." 
—  The  Prince  de  Ligne,  His  Memoirs,  etc.,  translated  by  Katharine 
Prescott  Wormeley,  1899,  ii.  34.] 


4i 6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

I  cannot  tell  exactly  what  it  was  ; 

He  was  not  yet  quite  old  enough  to  prove 
Parental  feelings,  and  the  other  class, 

Called  brotherly  affection,  could  not  move 
His  bosom, — for  he  never  had  a  sister : 
Ah  !  if  he  had — how  much  he  would  have  missed  her  ! 

LIV. 
And  still  less  was  it  sensual ;  for  besides 

That  he  was  not  an  ancient  debauchee, 
(Who  like  sour  fruit,  to  stir  their  veins'  salt  tides, 

As  acids  rouse  a  dormant  alkali,)  '• 
Although  (Y  will  happen  as  our  planet  guides) 

His  youth  was  not  the  chastest  that  might  be, 
There  was  the  purest  Platonism  at  bottom 
Of  all  his  feelings — only  he  forgot  'em. 

LV. 
Just  now  there  was  no  peril  of  temptation ; 

He  loved  the  infant  orphan  he  had  saved, 
As  patriots  (now  and  then)  may  love  a  nation ; 

His  pride,  too,  felt  that  she  was  not  enslaved 
Owing  to  him ;  — as  also  her  salvation 

Through  his  means  and  the  Church's  might  be  paved. 
But  one  thing  's  odd,  which  here  must  be  inserted, 
The  little  Turk  refused  to  be  converted. 

LVI. 
'T  was  strange  enough  she  should  retain  the  impression 

Through  such  a'  scene  of  change,  and  dread,  and 

slaughter ; 
But  though  three  Bishops  told  her  the  transgression, 

She  showed  a  great  dislike  to  holy  water ; 
She  also  had  no  passion  for  confession  ; 

Perhaps  she  had  nothing  to  confess  : — no  matter, 
Whate'er  the  cause,  the  Church  made  little  of  it — 
She  still  held  out  that  Mahomet  was  a  prophet. 

LVII. 
In  fact,  the  only  Christian  she  could  bear 

Was  Juan ;  whom  she  seemed  to  have  selected 

i.    Who  like  sour  fruit  to  sharpen  up  the  tides 

Of  their  salt  veins,  and  stir  their  stagnancy. — [MS.  erased.] 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  41? 

In  place  of  what  her  home  and  friends  once  were. 

He  naturally  loved  what  he  protected  : 
And  thus  they  formed  a  rather  curious  pair, 

A  guardian  green  in  years,  a  ward  connected 
In  neither  clime,  time,  blood,  with  her  defender ; 
And  yet  this  want  of  ties  made  theirs  more  tender. 

LVIII. 
They  journeyed  on  through  Poland  and  through  Warsaw, 

Famous  for  mines  of  salt  and  yokes  of  iron  : 
Through  Courland  also,  which  that  famous  farce  saw 

Which  gave  her  dukes  the  graceless  name  of  "  Biron."  l 

i.  In  the  Empress  Anne's  time,  Biren,  her  favourite,  assumed  the 
name  and  arms  of  the  "Birons"  of  France;  which  families  are  yet 
extant  with  that  of  England.  There  are  still  the  daughters  of  Cour- 
land of  that  name  ;  one  of  them  I  remember  seeing  in  England  in  the 
blessed  year  of  the  Allies  (1814) — the  Duchess  of  S. — to  whom  the 
English  Duchess  of  Somerset  presented  me  as  a  namesake. 

[' '  Ernest  John  Biren  was  born  in  Courland  [in  1690].  His  grandfather 
had  been  head  groom  to  James,  the  third  Duke  of  Courland,  and 
obtained  from  his  master  the  present  of  a  small  estate  in  land.  ...  In 
1714  he  made  his  appearance  at  St.  Petersburg,  and  solicited  the  place 
of  page  to  the  Princess  Charlotte,  wife  of  the  Tzarovitch  Alexey ;  but 
being  contemptuously  rejected  as  a  person  of  mean  extraction,  retired 
to  Mittau,  where  he  chanced  to  ingratiate  himself  with  Count  Bestu- 
chef,  Master  of  the  Household  to  Anne,  widow  of  Frederic  William, 
Duke  of  Courland,  who  resided  at  Mittau.  Being  of  a  handsome  figure 
and  polite  address,  he  soon  gained  the  good  will  of  the  duchess,  and 
became  her  secretary  and  chief  favourite.  On  her  being  declared 
sovereign  of  Russia,  Anne  called  Biren  to  Petersburg,  and  the  secretary 
soon  became  Duke  of  Courland,  and  first  minister  or  rather  despot  of 
Russia.  On  the  death  of  Anne,  which  happened  in  1740,  Biren,  being 
declared  regent,  continued  daily  increasing  his  vexations  and  cruelties, 
till  he  was  arrested,  on  the  i8th  of  December,  only  twenty  days  after 
he  had  been  appointed  to  the  regency ;  and  at  the  revolution  that 
ensued  he  was  exiled  to  the  frozen  shores  of  the  Oby." — Catherine  II., 
by  W.  Tooke,  1800,  i.  160,  footnote.  He  was  recalled  in  1763,  and 
died  in  1772. 

In  a  letter  to  his  sister,  dated  June  18,  1814,  Byron  gives  a  slightly 
different  version  of  the  incident,  recorded  in  his  note  (vide  supra) : 
"The  Duchess  of  Somerset  also,  to  mend  matters,  insisted  on  pre- 
senting me  to  a  Princess  Biron,  Duchess  of  Hohen-God-knows-what, 
and  another  person  to  her  two  sisters,  Birons  too.  But  I  flew  off,  and 
•would  not,  saying  I  had  had  enough  of  introductions  for  that  night  at 
least." — Letters,  1899,  'ii-98.  The  "  daughters  of  Courland"  must  have 
been  descendants  of  "  Pierre,  dernier  Due  de  Courlande,  De  la  Maison 
de  Biron,"  viz.  Jeanne  Catherine,  born  June  24,  1783,  who  married,  in 
1801,  Fran9ois  Pignatelli  de  Belmonte,  Due  d'  Acerenza,  and  Dorothe'e, 
born  August  21,  1793,  who  married,  in  1809,  Edmond  de  Talleyrand 
Perigord,  Due  de  Talleyrand,  nephew  to  the  Bishop  of  Autun.  (See 
Almanack  de  Gotha,  1848,  pp.  109,  no.)] 

VOL.  VI.  2    E 


4i 8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

'T  is  the  same  landscape  which  the  modern  Mars  saw, 
Who  marched  to  Moscow,  led  by  Fame,  the  Siren  ! 
To  lose  by  one  month's  frost  some  twenty  years 
Of  conquest,  and  his  guard  of  Grenadiers. 

LIX. 
Let  this  not  seem  an  anti-climax : — "  Oh  ! 

My  guard !  my  old  guard ! " *  exclaimed  that  god  of 

clay. 
Think  of  the  Thunderer's  falling  down  below 

Carotid-artery-cutting  Castlereagh ! L 
Alas  !  that  glory  should  be  chilled  by  snow ! 

But  should  we  wish  to  warm  us  on  our  way 
Through  Poland,  there  is  Kosciusko's  name 
Might  scatter  fire  through  ice,  like  Hecla's  flame. 

LX. 
From  Poland  they  came  on  through  Prussia  Proper, 

And  Konigsberg,  the  capital,  whose  vaunt, 
Besides  some  veins  of  iron,  lead,  or  copper, 

Has  lately  been  the  great  Professor  Kant.2 
Juan,  who  cared  not  a  tobacco-stopper 

About  philosophy,  pursued  his  jaunt 
To  Germany,  whose  somewhat  tardy  millions 
Have  princes  who  spur  more  than  their  postilions. 

LXI. 
And  thence  through  Berlin,  Dresden,  and  the  like, 

Until  he  reached  the  castellated  Rhine  : — 
Ye  glorious  Gothic  scenes  !  how  much  ye  strike 

All  phantasies,  not  even  excepting  mine  ! 
A  grey  wall,  a  green  ruin,  rusty  pike, 

Make  my  soul  pass  the  equinoctial  line 

i.    Who  now  that  he  is  dead  has  not  a  foe  ; 

The  last  expired  in  cut-throat  Castlereagh. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Napoleon's  exclamation  at  the  Elysfie  Bourbon,  June  23,  1815. 
' '  When   his    civil    counsellors  talked   of   defence,    the  word    wrung 
from  him  the  bitter  ejaculation,  '  Ah  !  my  old  guard  !  could  they  but 
defend  themselves  like  you  ! '  " — Life  of  Napoleon  Buonaparte,  by  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  Prose  Works,  1846,  ii.  760.] 

2.  [Immanuel  Kant,  born  at  Konigsberg,  in  1729,  became  Professor 
and  Rector  of  the  University,  and  died  at  Konigsberg  in  1804.] 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  419 

Between  the  present  and  past  worlds,  and  hover 
Upon  their  airy  confines,  half-seas-over. 

LXII. 
But  Juan  posted  on  through  Mannheim,  Bonn, 

Which  Drachenfels l  frowns  over  like  a  spectre 
Of  the  good  feudal  times  for  ever  gone, 

On  which  I  have  not  time  just  now  to  lecture. 
From  thence  he  was  drawn  onwards  to  Cologne, 

A  city  which  presents  to  the  inspector 
Eleven  thousand  maiden  heads  of  bone. 
The  greatest  number  flesh  hath  ever  known.2 

LXIII. 
From  thence  to  Holland's  Hague  and  Helvoetsluys, 

That  water-land  of  Dutchmen  and  of  ditches, 
Where  juniper  expresses  its  best  juice, 

The  poor  man's  sparkling  substitute  for  riches. 
Senates  and  sages  have  condemned  its  use — 

But  to  deny  the  mob  a  cordial,  which  is 
Too  often  all  the  clothing,  meat,  or  fuel, 
Good  government  has  left  them,  seems  but  cruel. 

LXIV. 
Here  he  embarked,  and  with  a  flowing  sail 

Went  bounding  for  the  Island  of  the  free, 
Towards  which  the  impatient  wind  blew  half  a  gale ; 

High  dashed  the  spray,  the  bows  dipped  in  the  sea, 
And  sea-sick  passengers  turned  somewhat  pale ; 

But  Juan,  seasoned,  as  he  well  might  be, 
By  former  voyages,  stood  to  watch  the  skiffs 
Which  passed,  or  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  the  cliffs. 

LXV. 
At  length  they  rose,  like  a  white  wall  along 

The  blue  sea's  border ;  and  Don  Juan  felt — 
What  even  young  strangers  feel  a  little  strong 

At  the  first  sight  of  Albion's  chalky  belt — 

1.  ["  The  castled  crag  of  Drachenfels 

Frowns  o'er  the  wide  and  winding  Rhine,"  etc. 

Childe  Harold,  Canto  III.] 

2.  St.  Ursula  and  her  eleven  thousand  virgins  were  still  extant  in 
1816,  and  may  be  so  yet,  as  much  as  ever. 


420  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

A  kind  of  pride  that  he  should  be  among 

Those  haughty  shopkeepers,  who  sternly  dealt 
Their  goods  and  edicts  out  from  pole  to  pole, 
And  made  the  very  billows  pay  them  toll. 

LXVI. 
I  've  no  great  cause  to  love  that  spot  of  earth, 

Which  holds  what  might  have  been  the  noblest  nation ; 
But  though  I  owe  it  little  but  my  birth, 

I  feel  a  mixed  regret  and  veneration 
For  its  decaying  fame  and  former  worth. 

Seven  years  (the  usual  term  of  transportation) 
Of  absence  lay  one's  old  resentments  level, 
When  a  man's  country  's  going  to  the  devil. 

LXVII. 
Alas  !  could  she  but  fully,  truly,  know 

How  her  great  name  is  now  throughout  abhorred  ; 
How  eager  all  the  Earth  is  for  the  blow 

Which  shall  lay  bare  her  bosom  to  the  sword  ; 
How  all  the  nations  deem  her  their  worst  foe, 

That  worse  than  ivorst  of  foes,  the  once  adored 
False  friend,  who  held  out  Freedom  to  Mankind, 
And  now  would  chain  them — to  the  very  mind ; — 

LXVI1I. 

Would  she  be  proud,  or  boast  herself  the  free, 
Who  is  but  first  of  slaves  ?    The  nations  are 

In  prison, — but  the  gaoler,  what  is  he  ? 
No  less  a  victim  to  the  bolt  and  bar. 

Is  the  poor  privilege  to  turn  the  key 

Upon  the  captive,  Freedom  ?     He  's  as  far 

From  the  enjoyment  of  the  earth  and  air 

Who  watches  o'er  the  chain,  as  they  who  wear. 

LXIX. 
Don  Juan  now  saw  Albion's  earliest  beauties, 

Thy  cliffs,  dear  Dover  !  harbour,  and  hotel ; 
Thy  custom-house,  with  all  its  delicate  duties ; 

Thy  waiters  running  mucks  at  every  bell ; 
Thy  packets,  all  whose  passengers  are  booties 

To  those  who  upon  land  or  water  dwell ; 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  421 

And  last,  not  least,  to  strangers  uninstructed, 
Thy  long,  long  bills,  whence  nothing  is  deducted. 

LXX. 
Juan,  though  careless,  young,  and  magnifique, 

And  rich  in  rubles,  diamonds,  cash,  and  credit, 
Who  did  not  limit  much  his  bills  per  week, 

Yet  stared  at  this  a  little,  though  he  paid  it, — 
(His  Maggior  Duomo,  a  smart,  subtle  Greek, 

Before  him  summed  the  awful  scroll  and  read  it) : 
But,  doubtless,  as  the  air — though  seldom  sunny— 
Is  free,  the  respiration  's  worth  the  money. 

LXXI. 
On  with  the  horses  !    Off  to  Canterbury  ! 

Tramp,  tramp  o'er  pebble,  and  splash,  splash  through 

puddle ; 

Hurrah  !  how  swiftly  speeds  the  post  so  merry  ! 
Not  like  slow  Germany,  wherein  they  muddle 
Along  the  road,1  as  if  they  went  to  bury 

Their  fare  ;  and  also  pause  besides,  to  fuddle 
With  "  schnapps " — sad  dogs  !    whom  "  Hundsfot,"   or 

"  Verflucter,"  2 
Affect  no  more  than  lightning  a  conductor.'- 

LXXII. 
Now  there  is  nothing  gives  a  man  such  spirits, 

Leavening  his  blood  as  cayenne  doth  a  curry, 
As  going  at  full  speed — no  ma  tter  where  its 

Direction  be,  so  't  is  but  in  a  hurry, 

i.    With  "  Schnapps  " — Detnocritus  -would  cease  to  smile, 
By  German  post-boys  driven  a  mile. — [MS.] 
With.  "Schnapps  ' — and  spite  of"  Dam  em,"  "dog"  and  "log" 
Launched  at  their  heads  jog-jog-jog-jog-jog-jog. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  ["  We  left  Ratzeburg  at  7  o'clock  Wednesday  evening,  and  arrived 
at  Liineburg — i.e.  35  English  miles — at  3  o'clock  on  Thursday  after- 
noon.    This  is  a  fair  specimen  !     In  England  I  used  to  laugh  at  the 
'  flying  waggons  ; '    but  compared  with   a  German   Post-Coach,    the 
metaphor  is  perfectly  justifiable,  and  for  the  future  I  shall  never  meet 
a   flying  waggon  without   thinking  respectfully  of  its  speed." — S.  T. 
Coleridge,  March  12,  1799,  Letters  of  S.  T.  C.,  1895,  i.  278.] 

2.  [See  for  German  oaths,  "Extracts  from  a  Diary,"  January  12, 
1821,  Letters,  1901,  v.  172.] 


422  DON    JUAN.  [CANTO  X. 

And  merely  for  the  sake  of  its  own  merits ; 

For  the  less  cause  there  is  for  all  this  flurry, 
The  greater  is  the  pleasure  in  arriving 
At  the  great  end  of  travel — which  is  driving. 

LXXIII. 
They  saw  at  Canterbury  the  cathedral; 

Black  Edward's  helm,  and  Becket's  bloody  stone, 
Were  pointed  out  as  usual  by  the  bedral, 

In  the  same  quaint,  uninterested  tone  : — 
There  's  glory  again  for  you,  gentle  reader !     All 

Ends  in  a  rusty  casque  and  dubious  bone,1 
Half-solved  into  these  sodas  or  magnesias, 
Which  form  that  bitter  draught,  the  human  species. 

LXXIV. 

The  effect  on  Juan  was  of  course  sublime  : 
He  breathed  a  thousand  Cressys,  as  he  saw 

That  casque,  which  never  stooped  except  to  Time. 
Even  the  bold  Churchman's  tomb  excited  awe, 

Who  died  in  the  then  great  attempt  to  climb 
O'er  Kings,  who  now  at  least  must  talk  of  Law 

i.  [The  French  Inscription  (see  Memorial  Inscriptions,  etc.,  by 
Joseph  Meadows  Cowper,  1897,  p.  134)  on  the  Black  Prince's  monu- 
ment is  thus  translated  in  the  History  of  Kent  (John  Weevers'  Funerall 
Monuments,  1636,  pp.  205,  206) — 

' '  Who  so  thou  be  that  passeth  by 
Where  this  corps  entombed  lie, 
Understand  what  I  shall  say, 
As  at  this  time,  speake  I  may. 
Such  as  thou  art,  sometime  was  I. 
Such  as  I  am,  shall  thou  be. 
I  little  thought  on  th'  oure  of  death, 
So  long  as  I  enjoyed  breath. 
Great  riches  here  did  I  possess, 
Whereof  I  made  great  nobleness ; 
I  had  gold,  silver,  wardrobes,  and 
Great  treasure,  horses,  houses,  land. 
But  now  a  caitife  poore  am  I, 
Deepe  in  the  ground,  lo  !  here  I  lie ; 
My  beautie  great  is  all  quite  gone, 
My  flesh  is  wasted  to  the  bone. 
My  house  is  narrow  now  and  throng, 
Nothing  but  Truth  comes  from  my  tongue. 
And  if  ye  should  see  me  this  day, 
I  do  not  think  but  ye  would  say, 
That  I  had  never  beene  a  man, 
So  much  altered  now  I  am."] 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  423 

Before  they  butcher.     Little  Leila  gazed, 

And  asked  why  such  a  structure  had  been  raised : 

LXXV. 
And  being  told  it  was  "  God's  House,"  she  said 

He  was  well  lodged,  but  only  wondered  how 
He  suffered  Infidels  in  his  homestead, 

The  cruel  Nazarenes,  who  had  laid  low 
His  holy  temples  in  the  lands  which  bred 

The  True  Believers ; — and  her  infant  brow 
Was  bent  with  grief  that  Mahomet  should  resign 
A  mosque  so  noble,  flung  like  pearls  to  swine. 

LXXVI. 
On  !  on  !  through  meadows,  managed  like  a  garden, 

A  paradise  of  hops  and  high  production ; 
For,  after  years  of  travel  by  a  bard  in 

Countries  of  greater  heat,  but  lesser  suction, 
A  green  field  is  a  sight  which  makes  him  pardon 

The  absence  of  that  more  sublime  construction, 
Which  mixes  up  vines — olives — precipices — 
Glaciers — volcanoes — oranges  and  ices. 

LXXVI  I. 

And  when  I  think  upon  a  pot  of  beer 

But  I  won't  weep ! — and  so  drive  on,  postilions  ! 

As  the  smart  boys  spurred  fast  in  their  career, 
Juan  admired  these  highways  of  free  millions — 

A  country  in  all  senses  the  most  dear 

To  foreigner  or  native,  save  some  silly  ones, 

Who  "  kick  against  the  pricks  "  just  at  this  juncture, 

And  for  their  pains  get  only  a  fresh  puncture.1- 

LXXVIII. 
What  a  delightful  thing  's  a  turnpike  road  ! 

So  smooth,  so  level,  such  a  mode  of  shaving 
The  Earth,  as  scarce  the  eagle  in  the  broad 

Air  can  accomplish,  with  his  wide  wings  waving. 
Had  such  been  cut  in  Phaeton's  time,  the  god 

Had  told  his  son  to  satisfy  his  craving 

i.  of  higher  stations, 

And  for  their  pains  get  smarter  puncturations. — [MS.  erased.] 


424  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

With  the  York  mail ; — but  onward  as  we  roll, 
Surgit  amari  aliquid — the  toll ! 1 

LXXIX. 

Alas  !  how  deeply  painful  is  all  payment ! 

Take    lives — take  wives — take   aught    except  men's 

purses : 
As  Machiavel  shows  those  in  purple  raiment, 

Such  is  the  shortest  way  to  general  curses.2 
They  hate  a  murderer  much  less  than  a  claimant 

On  that  sweet  ore  which  everybody  nurses. — 
Kill  a  man's  family,  and  he  may  brook  it, 
But  keep  your  hands  out  of  his  breeches'  pocket : 

LXXX. 

So  said  the  Florentine  :  ye  monarchs,  hearken 
To  your  instructor.     Juan  now  was  borne, 

Just  as  the  day  began  to  wane  and  darken, 

O'er  the  high  hill,  which  looks  with  pride  or  scorn 

Toward  the  great  city. — Ye  who  have  a  spark  in 
Your  veins  of  Cockney  spirit,  smile  or  mourn 

According  as  you  take  things  well  or  ill ; — 

Bold  Britons,  we  are  now  on  Shooter's  Hill ! 

LXXXI. 

The  Sun  went  down,  the  smoke  rose  up,  as  from 
A  half-unquenched  volcano,  o'er  a  space 

Which  well  beseemed  the  "  Devil's  drawing-room," 
As  some  have  qualified  that  wondrous  place : 

But  Juan  felt,  though  not  approaching  Home, 
As  one  who,  though  he  were  not  of  the  race, 

Revered  the  soil,  of  those  true  sons  the  mother, 

Who  butchered  half  the  earth,  and  bullied  t'  other.3  . 


1.  [See  Childe  Harold,  Canto  I.  stanza  xxxii.  line  2,  Poetical  Works, 
1899,  ii.  93,  note  16.] 

2.  [See  The  Prince  (II  Principe),  chap,  xvii.,  by  Niccolo  Machiavelli, 
translated   by  Ninian  Hill  Thomson,   1897,  p.  121:   "But  above  all 
[a    Prince]  must   abstain    from    the   property  of    others.      For   men 
will  sooner  forget  the  death  of  their   father  than  the  loss  of  their 
patrimony."] 

3.  [India;  America.] 


CANTO  X.]  DON   JUAN.  425 

LXXXII. 

A  mighty  mass  of  brick,  and  smoke,  and  shipping, 

Dirty  and  dusky,  but  as  wide  as  eye 
Could  reach,  with  here  and  there  a  sail  just  skipping 

In  sight,  then  lost  amidst  the  forestry 
Of  masts ;  a  wilderness  of  steeples  peeping 

On  tiptoe  through  their  sea-coal  canopy  ; 
A  huge,  dun  Cupola,  like  a  foolscap  crown 
On  a  fool's  head — and  there  is  London  Town  ! 

LXXXIII.    . 
But  Juan  saw  not  this  :  each  wreath  of  smoke 

Appeared  to  him  but  as  the  magic  vapour 
Of  some  alchymic  furnace,  from  whence  broke 

The  wealth  of  worlds  (a  wealth  of  tax  and  paper)  : 
The  gloomy  clouds,  which  o'er  it  as  a  yoke 

Are  bowed,  and  put  the  Sun  out  like  a  taper, 
Were  nothing  but  the  natural  atmosphere, 
Extremely  wholesome,  though  but  rarely  clear. 

LXXXIV. 
He  paused — and  so  will  I ;  as  doth  a  crew 

Before  they  give  their  broadside.     By  and  by, 
My  gentle  countrymen,  we  will  renew 

Our  old  acquaintance ;  and  at  least  I  '11  try 
To  tell  you  truths  you  will  not  take  as  true, 

Because  they  are  so  ; — a  male  Mrs.  Fry,1 
With  a  soft  besom  will  I  sweep  your  halls, 
And  brush  a  web  or  two  from  off  the  walls. 

LXXXV. 
Oh  Mrs.  Fry  !     Why  go  to  Newgate  ?    Why 

Preach  to  poor  rogues  ?    And  wherefore  not  begin 
With  Carlton,  or  with  other  houses  ?     Try 

Your  hand  at  hardened  and  imperial  Sin. 
To  mend  the  People  's  an  absurdity, 

A  jargon,  a  mere  philanthropic  din, 

i.  [Elizabeth  Fry  (1780-1845)  began  her  visits  to  Newgate  in  1813. 
In  1820  she  corresponded  with  the  Princess  Sophie  of  Russia,  and 
at  a  later  period  she  was  entertained  by  Louis  Philippe,  and  by  the 
King  of  Prussia  at  Kaiserwerth.  She  might  have,  she  may  have, 
admonished  George  IV.  "with  regard  to  all  good  things."] 


426  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  x. 

Unless  you  make  their  betters  better : — Fie  ! 
I  thought  you  had  more  religion,  Mrs.  Fry. 

LXXXVI. 
Teach  them  the  decencies  of  good  threescore ; 

Cure  them  of  tours,  hussar  and  highland  dresses ; 
Tell  them  that  youth  once  gone  returns  no  more, 

That  hired  huzzas  redeem  no  land's  distresses  ; 
Tell  them  Sir  William  Curtis  l  is  a  bore, 

Too  dull  even  for  the  dullest  of  excesses — 
The  witless  Falstaff  of  a  hoary  Hal, 
A  fool  whose  bells  have  ceased  to  ring  at  all. 

LXXXVI  I. 

Tell  them,  though  it  may  be,  perhaps,  too  late — 
On  Life's  worn  confine,  jaded,  bloated,  sated — 

To  set  up  vain  pretence  of  being  great, 
'T  is  not  so  to  be  good ;  and,  be  it  stated, 

The  worthiest  kings  have  ever  loved  least  state  : 
And  tell  them But  you  won't,  and  I  have  prated 

Just  now  enough ;  but,  by  and  by,  I  '11  prattle 

Like  Roland's  horn  ~  in  Roncesvalles1  battle.'- 3 

i.  Like  an  old  Roman  trumpet  ere  a  battle. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [See  The  Age  of  Bronze,  line  768,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  578, 
note  i.] 

2.  ["  O  for  a  blast  of  that  dread  horn, 

On  Fontarabian  echoes  borne, 

That  to  King  Charles  did  come, 

When  Rowland  brave,  and  Olivier, 

And  every  paladin  and  peer, 
On  Roncesvalles  died." 
Marmion,  Canto  VI.  stanza  xxxiii.  lines  7-12.] 

3.  B.  Genoa,  Oct.  6th,  1822.     End  of  Canto  lo1.'1 


CANTO  XI.]  DON    JUAN.  427 


CANTO   THE    ELEVEiNTH. 


i. 

WHEN  Bishop  Berkeley  said  "  there  was  no  matter,"  1 
And  proved  it — 't  was  no  matter  what  he  said  : 

They  say  his  system  't  is  in  vain  to  batter, 
Too  subtle  for  the  airiest  human  head ; 

And  yet  who  can  believe  it  ?     I  would  shatter 
Gladly  all  matters  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  't  was  to  make  the 

Universe  universal  egotism, 
That  all 's  ideal — all  ourselves  ! — I  '11  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. 

i.  [Berkeley  did  not  deny  the  reality  of  existence,  but  the  reality  of 
matter  as  an  abstract!  conception.  "It  is  plain,"  he  says  (On  the 
Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  sect,  ix.),  "  that  the  very  notion  of 
what  is  called  matter  or  corporeal  substance,  involves  a  contradiction 
in  it."  Again,  "It  were  a  mistake  to  think  that  what  is  here  said 
derogates  in  the  least  from  the  reality  of  things."  His  contention  was 
that  this  reality  depended,  not  on  an  abstraction  called  matter,  "  an 
inert,  extended  unperceiving  substance,"  but  on  "  those  unextended, 
indivisible  substances  or  spirits,  which  act,  and  think,  and  perceive 
them  [unthinking  beings]." — Ibid.,  sect,  xci.,  The  Works  of  George 
Berkeley,  D.D.,  1820,  i.  27,  69,  70.] 


428  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

in. 
For  ever  and  anon  comes  Indigestion 

(Not  the  most  "  dainty  Ariel  ")yl  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 — 

IV. 

If  it  be  chance — or,  if  it  be  according 
To  the  old  text,  still  better : — lest  it  should 

Turn  out  so,  we  '11  say  nothing  'gainst  the  wording, 
As  several  people  think  such  hazards  rude. 

They  're  right ;  our  days  are  too  brief  for  affording 
Space  to  dispute  what  no  one  ever  could 

Decide,  and  everybody  one  day  will 

Know  very  clearly — or  at  least  lie  still. 

v. 
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 : 2 

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 ; 

1.  [Tempest,  act  v.  sc.  i,  line  95.] 

2.  I"  I  have  been  very  unwell — four  days  confined  to  my  bed  in  '  the 
worst  inn's  worst  room '  at  Lerici,  with  a  violent  rheumatic  and  bilious 
attack,  constipation,  and  the  devil  knows  what." — Letter  to  Murray, 
October  9,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  121.      The  same  letter  contains  an 
announcement  that  he  had  "a  fifth  [Canto  of  Don  Juan"]  (the  loth) 
finished,  but  not  transcribed  yet ;  and  the  eleventh  begun."] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON   JUAN.  429 

The  fourth  at  once  established  the  whole  Trinity 

On  so  uncontrovertible  a  level, 
That  I  devoutly  wished  the  three  were  four — 
On  purpose  to  believe  so  much  the  more. 

VII. 

To  our  theme. — The    man  who    has    stood    on    the 
Acropolis, 

And  looked  down  over  Attica ;  or  he 
Who  has  sailed  where  picturesque  Constantinople  is, 

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

Or  sat  amidst  the  bricks  of  Nineveh,1- 
May  not  think  much  of  London's  first  appearance — 
But  ask  him  what  he  thinks  of  it  a  year  hence  ! 

VIII. 

Don  Juan  had  got  out  on  Shooter's  Hill ; 

Sunset  the  time,  the  place  the  same  declivity 
Which  looks  along  that  vale  of  Good  and  111 

Where  London  streets  ferment  in  full  activity, 
While  everything  around  was  calm  and  still, 

Except  the  creak  of  wheels,  which  on  their  pivot  he 
Heard, — and  that  bee-like,  bubbling,  busy  hum 
Of  cities,  that  boil  over  with  their  scum  : — 

IX. 

I  say,  Don  Juan,  wrapped  in  contemplation, 
Walked  on  behind  his  carriage,  o'er  the  summit, 

And  lost  in  wonder  of  so  great  a  nation, 

Gave  way  to  't,  since  he  could  not  overcome  it. 

"  And  here,"  he  cried,  "  is  Freedom's  chosen  station  ; 
Here  peals  the  People's  voice,  nor  can  entomb  it 

Racks — prisons — inquisitions ;  Resurrection 

Awaits  it,  each  new  meeting  or  election. 


"  Here  are  chaste  wives,  pure  lives ;  here  people  pay 
But  what  they  please ;  and  if  that  things  be  dear, 

'T  is  only  that  they  love  to  throw  away 

Their  cash,  to  show  how  much  they  have  a-year. 

i.   Or  Rome,  or  Tiber — Naples  or  the  sea.  — [MS.  erased,  j 


43°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  XL 

Here  laws  are  all  inviolate — none  lay 

Traps  for  the  traveller — every  highway  's  clear — 
Here  " — he  was  interrupted  by  a  knife, 
With — "  Damn  your  eyes  !  your  money  or  your  life  ! " — 

XI. 

These  free-born  sounds  proceeded  from  four  pads 
In  ambush  laid,  who  had  perceived  him  loiter 

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

In  which  the  heedless  gentleman  who  gads 
Upon  the  road,  unless  he  prove  a  fighter, 

May  find  himself  within  that  isle  of  riches 

Exposed  to  lose  his  life  as  well  as  breeches. 

XII. 

Juan,  who  did  not  understand  a  word 

Of  English,  save  their  shibboleth,  "  God  damn  ! "  * 
And  even  that  he  had  so  rarely  heard, 

He  sometimes  thought 't  was  only  their  "  Salam," 
Or  "  God  be  with  you  !  " — and  't  is  not  absurd 

To  think  so, — for  half  English  as  I  am 
(To  my  misfortune),  never  can  I  say 
I  heard  them  wish  "  God  with  you,"  save  that  way ; — 

XIII. 

Juan  yet  quickly  understood  their  gesture, 
And  being  somewhat  choleric  and  sudden, 

Drew  forth  a  pocket  pistol  from  his  vesture, 
And  fired  it  into  one  assailant's  pudding — 

Who  fell,  as  rolls  an  ox  o'er  in  his  pasture, 

And  roared  out,  as  he  writhed  his  native  mud  in, 

Unto  his  nearest  follower  or  henchman, 

"  Oh  Jack !    I  'm  floored  by  that  'ere  bloody  French- 
man ! " 

XIV. 

On  which  Jack  and  his  train  set  off  at  speed, 
And  Juan's  suite,  late  scattered  at  a  distance, 

Came  up,  all  marvelling  at  such  a  deed, 
And  offering,  as  usual,  late  assistance. 

i.  [Vide  ante,  Canto  I.  stanza  xiv.  lines  7,  8.] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON    JUAN.  431 

Juan,  who  saw  the  moon's  late  minion l  bleed 
As  if  his  veins  would  pour  out  his  existence, 
Stood  calling  out  for  bandages  and  lint, 
And  wished  he  had  been  less  hasty  with  his  flint. 

xv. 
"  Perhaps,"  thought  he,  "  it  is  the  country's  wont 

To  welcome  foreigners  in  this  way :  now 
I  recollect  some  innkeepers  who  don't 

Differ,  except  in  robbing  with  a  bow, 
In  lieu  of  a  bare  blade  and  brazen  front — 

But  what  is  to  be  done  ?     I  can't  allow 
The  fellow  to  lie  groaning  on  the  road : 
So  take  him  up — I  '11  help  you  with  the  load." 

XVI. 

But  ere  they  could  perform  this  pious  duty, 

The  dying  man  cried,  "  Hold  !  I  've  got  my  gruel ! 

Oh  !  for  a  glass  of  max  ! 2    We  've  missed  our  booty ; 
Let  me  die  where  I  am  ! "     And  as  the  fuel 

Of  Life  shrunk  in  his  heart,  and  thick  and  sooty 

The  drops  fell  from  his  death-wound,  and  he  drew  ill 

His  breath, — he  from  his  swelling  throat  untied 

A  kerchief,  crying,  "  Give  Sal  that ! " — and  died. 

XVII. 

The  cravat  stained  with  bloody  drops  fell  down 
Before  Don  Juan's  feet :  he  could  not  tell 

Exactly  why  it  was  before  him  thrown, 

Nor  what  the  meaning  of  the  man's  farewell. 

Poor  Tom  was  once  a  kiddy  upon  town, 
A  thorough  varmint,  and  a  real  swell, 

Full  flash,3  all  fancy,  until  fairly  diddled, 

His  pockets  first  and  then  his  body  riddled. 

1.  [' '  Falstaff.     Let  us  be  Diana's  foresters,  gentlemen  of  the  shade, 
minions  of  the  moon :  and  let  men  say,  we  be  men  of  good  govern- 
ment ;  being  governed,  as  the  sea  is,  by  our  noble  and  chaste  mistress 
the  moon,  under  whose  countenance  we — steal." — i  Henry  IV.,  act  i. 
sc.  2,  lines  24-28.] 

2.  [Gin.      Hence    the  antithesis  of   "All  Max"  in  the  East  to 
Almack's  in  the  West.    (See  Life  in  London,  by  Pierce  Egan,  1823,  pp. 
284-290.)] 

3.  [According  to  the  Vocabulary  of  the  Flash  Language,  compiled  by 
James  Hardy  Vaux,  in  1812,  and  published  at  the  end  of  his  Memoirs, 


43 2  D<>N  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

XVIII. 

Don  Juan,  having  done  the  best  he  could 

In  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case, 
As  soon  as  "  Crowner's  quest "  1  allowed,  pursued 

His  travels  to  the  capital  apace  ; — 
Esteeming  it  a  little  hard  he  should 

In  twelve  hours'  time,  and  very  little  space, 
Have  been  obliged  to  slay  a  free-born  native 
In  self-defence  :  this  made  him  meditative. 

XIX. 

He  from  the  world  had  cut  off  a  great  man, 
Who  in  his  time  had  made  heroic  bustle. 

Who  in  a  row  like  Tom  could  lead  the  van, 
Booze  in  the  ken,  or  at  the  spellken  hustle  ? 

Who  queer  a  flat  ?  '2  Who  (spite  of  Bow-street's  ban) 
On  the  high  toby-spice  so  flash  the  muzzle  ? 

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

So  prime — so  swell — so  nutty — and  so  knowing  ? K  3 

i.  Poor  Tom  was  once  a  knowing  one  in  town. 
Not  a  mere  kiddy,  but  a  real  one. — [MS.  erased.} 

1819,  ii.  149-227,  a  kiddy,  or  "flash-kiddy,"  is  a  thief  of  the  lower 
orders,  who,  when  he  is  breeched  by  a  course  of  successful  depredation 
dresses  in  the  extreme  of  vulgar  gentility,  and  affects  a  knowingness  in 
his  air  and  conversation.  A  "swell"  or  "rank  swell"  ("real  swell" 
appears  in  Egan's  Life  in  London)  is  the  more  recent  "toff;"  and 
"flash"  is  "fly,"  "down,"  or  "awake,"  i.e.  knowing,  not  easily 
imposed  upon.] 

1.  \Hamlet,  act  v.  sc.  i,  line  21.] 

2.  ["  Ken"  is  a  house,  s.c.  a  thieves'  lodging-house  ;  "spellken,"  a 
play-house;    "high   toby-spice"  is  robbery  on  horseback,   as  distin- 
guished from  "spice,"  i.e.  footpad  robbery;  to  "flash  the  muzzle"  is 
to  show  off  the  face,  to  swagger  openly;  "blowing"  or  "blowen"  is 
a  doxy  or  trull ;  and  "  nutty  "  is,  conjointly,  amorous  and  fascinating.] 

3.  The  advance  of  science  and  of  language  has  rendered  it  unneces- 
sary to  translate  the  above  good  and  true  English,  spoken  in  its 
original  purity  by  the  select  mobility  and  their  patrons.     The  following 
is  a  stanza  of  a  song  which  was  very  popular  at  least  in  my  early 
days : — 

"  On  the  high  toby-spice  flash  the  muzzle. 

In  spite  of  each  gallows  old  scout ; 
If  you  at  the  spellken  can't  hustle, 

You  '11  be  hobbled  in  making  a  clout. 
"Then  your  blowing  will  wax  gallows  haughty, 

When  she  hears  of  your  scaly  mistake, 
She  '11  surely  turn  snitch  for  the  forty — 
That  her  Jack  may  be  regular  weight." 


CANTO  XI.]  DON    JUAN.  433 

XX. 

But  Tom  's  no  more — and  so  no  more  of  Tom. 

Heroes  must  die  ;  and  by  God's  blessing  't  is 
Not  long  before  the  most  of  them  go  home. 

Hail !  Thamis,  hail !  Upon  thy  verge  it  is 
That  Juan's  chariot,  rolling  like  a  drum 

In  thunder,  holds  the  way  it  can't  well  miss, 
Through  Kennington  and  all  the  other  "  tons," 
Which  make  us  wish  ourselves  in  town  at  once ; — 

XXI. 

Through  Groves,  so  called  as  being  void  of  trees, 
(Like  lucus  from  no  light) ;  through  prospects  named 

Mount  Pleasant,  as  containing  nought  to  please, 
Nor  much  to  climb  ;  through  little  boxes  framed 

Of  bricks,  to  let  the  dust  in  at  your  ease, 
With  "  To  be  let,"  upon  their  doors  proclaimed ; 

Through  "  Rows  "  most  modestly  called  "  Paradise,"  1 

Which  Eve  might  quit  without  much  sacrifice  ; —  '• 

i.    Through  rows  called  "Paradise,"  by  iuay  of  showing 

Good  Christians  that  to  which  they  all  are  going. — [MS.  erased.] 

If  there  be  any  gemman  so  ignorant  as  to  require  a  traduction,  I 
refer  him  to  my  old  friend  and  corporeal  pastor  and  master,  John 
Jackson,  Esq.,  Professor  of  Pugilism ;  who,  I  trust,  still  retains  the 
strength  and  symmetry  of  his  model  of  a  form,  together  with  his  good 
humour,  and  athletic  as  well  as  mental  accomplishments. 

[Gentleman  Jackson  was  of  good  renown.  "  Servility,"  says  Egan 
(Life  in  London,  1823,  p.  217),  "is  not  known  to  him.  Flattery  he 
detests.  Integrity,  impartiality,  good-nature,  and  manliness,  are  the 
corner-stones  of  his  understanding."  Byron  once  said  of  him  that 
' '  his  manners  were  infinitely  superior  to  those  of  the  Fellows  of  the 
College  whom  I  meet  at  the  high  table  "  (J.  W.  Clark,  Cambridge,  1890, 
p.  140).  (See,  too,  letter  to  John  Jackson,  September  18,  1808,  Letters, 
1898,  i.  189,  note  2 ;  Hints  from,  Horace,  line  638,  Poetical  Works, 
1898,  i.  433,  note  3.)  As  to  the  stanza  quoted  by  Egan  (Anecdotes  of 
the  Turf,  1827,  p.  44),  but  not  traduced  or  interpreted,  "  To  be  hobbled 
for  making  a  clout "  is  to  be  taken  into  custody  for  stealing  a  handker- 
chief," to  "turn  snitch"  is  to  inform,  and  the  "forty"  is  the  .£40 
offered  for  the  detection  of  a  capital  crime,  and  shared  by  the  police  or 
Bow  Street  runners.  Dangerous  characters  were  let  alone  and  tacitly 
encouraged  to  continue  their  career  of  crime,  until  the  measure  of  their 
iniquity  was  full,  and  they  "weighed  forty."  If  Jack  was  clumsy 
enough  to  be  detected  in  a  trifling  theft,  his  "  blowen  "  would  go  over 
to  the  enemy,  and  betray  him  for  the  sake  of  the  Government  reward 
(see  Classical  Dictionary  of  the  Vulgar  Tongue,  by  Francis  Grose,  1823, 
art.  "  Weigh  forty  ").] 

i.  [Don  Juan  must  have  driven  by  Pleasant  Row,  and  passed 
VOL.  VI.  2  F 


434  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

XXII. 

Through  coaches,  drays,  choked  turnpikes,  and  a  whirl 
Of  wheels,  and  roar  of  voices,  and  confusion ; 

Here  taverns  wooing  to  a  pint  of  "  purl,"  1 
There  mails  fast  flying  off  like  a  delusion  ; 

There  barbers'  blocks  with  periwigs  in  curl 
In  windows ;  here  the  lamplighter's  infusion 

Slowly  distilled  into  the  glimmering  glass 

(For  in  those  days  we  had  not  got  to  gas — ) ;  '• 2 

XXIII. 

Through  this,  and  much,  and  more,  is  the  approach 

Of  travellers  to  mighty  Babylon  : 
Whether  they  come  by  horse,  or  chaise,  or  coach, 

With  slight  exceptions,  all  the  ways  seem  one. 
I  could  say  more,  but  do  not  choose  to  encroach 

Upon  the  Guide-book's  privilege.  The  Sun 
Had  set  some  time,  and  night  was  on  the  ridge 
Of  twilight,  as  the  party  crossed  the  bridge. 

XXIV. 

That 's  rather  fine,  the  gentle  sound  of  Thamis — 
Who  vindicates  a  moment,  too,  his  stream — 

Though  hardly  heard  through  multifarious  "  damme's : " 
The  lamps  of  Westminster's  more  regular  gleam, 

The  breadth  of  pavement,  and  yon  shrine  where  Fame  is 
A  spectral  resident — whose  pallid  beam 

In  shape  of  moonshine  hovers  o'er  the  pile — 

Make  this  a  sacred  part  of  Albion's  isle. 

XXV. 

The  Druids'  groves  are  gone — so  much  the  better : 
Stonehenge  is  not — but  what  the  devil  is  it  ? — 

i.  distilling  into  the  re-kindling  glass. — [MS.] 

within  hail  of  Paradise  Row,  on  the  way  from  Kennington  to  West- 
minster Bridge.  (See  Gary's  New  Pocket  Plan  of  London,  Westminster, 
and South.-wa.rk,  1819.)  But,  perhaps,  there  is  more  in  the  names  of 
streets  and  places  than  meets  the  eye.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  there  is, 
or  there  may  be,  "  a  paltering  with  us  in  a  double  sense."] 

1.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  1.  stanza  Ixix.  line  8,  var.  ii., 
Poetical  Works,  1899,  ii.  66,  note  2.] 

2.  [The  streets  of  London  were  first  regularly  lighted  with  gas  in 
1812.1 


CANTO  XI.]  DON   JUAN.  435 

But  Bedlam  still  exists  with  its  sage  fetter, 
That  madmen  may  not  bite  you  on  a  visit ; 

The  Bench  too  seats  or  suits  full  many  a  debtor ; 

The  Mansion  House,1  too  (though  some  people  quiz  it), 

To  me  appears  a  stiff  yet  grand  erection ; 

But  then  the  Abbey  's  worth  the  whole  collection. 

XXVI. 

The  line  of  lights,2  too,  up  to  Charing  Cross, 
Pall  Mall,  and  so  forth,  have  a  coruscation 

Like  gold  as  in  comparison  to  dross, 

Matched  with  the  Continent's  illumination, 

Whose  cities  Night  by  no  means  deigns  to  gloss. 
The  French  were  not  yet  a  lamp-lighting  nation, 

And  when  they  grew  so — on  their  new-found  lantern, 

Instead  of  wicks,  they  made  a  wicked  man  turn.3 

xxvn. 

A  row  of  Gentlemen  along  the  streets 

Suspended  may  illuminate  mankind, 
As  also  bonfires  made  of  country  seats  ; 

But  the  old  way  is  best  for  the  purblind : 
The  other  looks  like  phosphorus  on  sheets, 

A  sort  of  ignis  fatwis  to  the  mind, 
Which,  though  't  is  certain  to  perplex  and  frighten, 
Must  burn  more  mildly  ere  it  can  enlighten. 

1.  [Thomas  Pennant,  in  Some  Account  of  London,  1793,  p.  444,  writes 
down  the  Mansion  House  (1739-1752)  as  "  damned  ...  to  everlasting 
fame.1'] 

2.  [Fifty  years  ago  "  the  lights  of  Piccadilly  "  were  still  regarded  as 
one  of  the  "sights"  of  London.     Byron   must  often  have  looked  at 
them  from  his  house  in  Piccadilly  Terrace.] 

3.  [Joseph    Fran9ois    Foulon,    army    commissioner,    provoked    the 
penalty  of  the  "lantern"  (i.e.  an  improvised  gallows  on  the  yard  of  a 
lamp-post  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  la  Vannerie)  by  his  heartless 
sneer,  "Eh  bien  !  si  cette  canaille  n'a  pas  de   pain,  elle  mangera  du 
foin."      He  was  hanged,  July  22,  1789.     See  The  Tale  of  Two  Cities, 
by  Charles  Dickens,  cap.  xxii. ;  see,  too,  Carlyle's  French.  Revolution, 
1839,   i.   253  :    ' '  With  wild  yells,   Sansculottism  clutches  him,   in  its 
hundred  hands :  he  is  whirled  ...  to  the  '  Lanterne,'  .  .  .  pleading 
bitterly  for  life, — to  the  deaf  winds.     Only  with  the  third  rope  (for  two 
ropes  broke,  and  the  quavering  voice  still  pleaded),  can  he  be  so  much 
as  got  hanged  !     His  Body  is  dragged  through  the  streets ;  his  Head 
goes  aloft  on  a  pike,  the  mouth  filled  with  grass  :  amid  sounds  as  of 
Tophet,  from  a  grass-eating  people."] 


436  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

XXVIII. 

But  London  's  so  well  lit,  that  if  Diogenes 
Could  recommence  to  hunt  his  honest  man, 

And  found  him  not  amidst  the  various  progenies 
Of  this  enormous  City's  spreading  span, 

'T  were  not  for  want  of  lamps  to  aid  his  dodging  his 
Yet  undiscovered  treasure.     What  /  can, 

I  've  done  to  find  the  same  throughout  Life's  journey, 

But  see  the  World  is  only  one  attorney. 

XXIX. 

Over  the  stones  still  rattling,  up  Pall  Mall, 

Through  crowds  and  carriages,  but  waxing  thinner 

As  thundered  knockers  broke  the  long  sealed  spell 
Of  doors  'gainst  duns,  and  to  an  early  dinner 

Admitted  a  small  party  as  night  fell, — 
Don  Juan,  our  young  diplomatic  sinner, 

Pursued  his  path,  and  drove  past  some  hotels, 

St.  James's  Palace,  and  St.  James's  "  Hells."  l 

XXX. 

They  reached  the  hotel :  forth  streamed  from  the  front 
door  '• 

A  tide  of  well-clad  waiters,  and  around 
The  mob  stood,  and  as  usual  several  score 

Of  those  pedestrian  Paphians  who  abound 
In  decent  London  when  the  daylight  's  o'er ; 

Commodious  but  immoral,  they  are  found 
Useful,  like  Malthus,  in  promoting  marriage. — 
But  Juan  now  is  stepping  from  his  carriage 

i.  At  length  the  boys  drew  up  before  a  door, 

From  whencii  poured  forth  a  tribe  of  well-clad  waiters ; 

(  While  on  the  pavement  many  a  hungry  w — re 
With  which  the  moralest  of  cities  caters 

For  gentlemen  whose  passions  may  boil  o'er, 

Stood  as  the  unpacking  gathered  more  spectators,) 

And  Juan  found  himself  in  an  extensive 

Apartment ;— fashionable  but  expensive. — [MS.] 

i.  "  Hells,"  gaming-houses.  What  their  number  may  now  be  in 
this  life,  I  know  not.  Before  I  was  of  age  I  knew  them  pretty 
accurately,  both  "  gold"  and  "silver."  I  was  once  nearly  called  out 
by  an  acquaintance,  because  when  he  asked  me  where  I  thought  that 
his  soul  would  be  found  hereafter,  I  answered,  "  In  Silver  Hell." 


CANTO  XI.]  DON   JUAN.  437 

XXXI. 

Into  one  of  the  sweetest  of  hotels,'- l 

Especially  for  foreigners — and  mostly 
For  those  whom  favour  or  whom  Fortune  swells, 

And  cannot  find  a  bill's  small  items  costly. 
There  many  an  envoy  either  dwelt  or  dwells 

(The  den  of  many  a  diplomatic  lost  lie), 
Until  to  some  conspicuous  square  they  pass, 
And  blazon  o'er  the  door  their  names  in  brass. 

XXXII. 

Juan,  whose  was  a  delicate  commission, 
Private,  though  publicly  important,  bore 

No  title  to  point  out  with  due  precision 
The  exact  affair  on  which  he  was  sent  o'er. 

'T  was  merely  known,  that  on  a  secret  mission 
A  foreigner  of  rank  had  graced  our  shore, 

Young,  handsome,  and  accomplished,  who  was  said 

(In  whispers)  to  have  turned  his  Sovereign's  head. 

XXXIII. 

Some  rumour  also  of  some  strange  adventures 
Had  gone  before  him,  and  his  wars  and  loves  ; 

And  as  romantic  heads  are  pretty  painters, 
And,  above  all,  an  Englishwoman's  roves ii- 

Into  the  excursive,  breaking  the  indentures 
Of  sober  reason,  wheresoe'er  it  moves, 

He  found  himself  extremely  in  the  fashion, 

Which  serves  our  thinking  people  for  a  passion. 

xxxiv. 

I  don't  mean  that  they  are  passionless,  but  quite 
The  contrary ;  but  then  't  is  in  the  head ; 

i.  'Twos  one  of  the  delightfullest  hotels.—  [MS.] 
ii.  — —  of  his  loves  and  wars  ; 

And  as  romantic  heads  are  pretty  painters. 

And  ladies  like  a  little  spice  of  Mars, — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  [Perhaps  Grillion's  Hotel  (afterwards  Grillion's  Club)  in  Albemarle 
Street.  In  1822  diplomats  patronized  more  than  one  hotel  in  and  near 
St.  James's  Street,  but  among  the  "  Departures  from  Grillion's  Hotel," 
recorded  in  the  Morning  Chronicle  of  September,  17,  1822,  appositely 
enough,  is  that  of  H.  E.  Don  Juan  Garcia,  del  Rio.] 


438  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

Yet  as  the  consequences  are  as  bright 
As  if  they  acted  with  the  heart  instead, 

What  after  all  can  signify  the  site 

Of  ladies'  lucubrations  ?     So  they  lead 

In  safety  to  the  place  for  which  you  start, 

What  matters  if  the  road  be  head  or  heart  ? 

xxxv. 
Juan  presented  in  the  proper  place, 

To  proper  placemen,  every  Russ  credential ; 
And  was  received  with  all  the  due  grimace 

By  those  who  govern  in  the  mood  potential, 
Who,  seeing  a  handsome  stripling  with  smooth  face, 

Thought  (what  in  state  affairs  is  most  essential), 
That  they  as  easily  might  do  the  youngster, 
As  hawks  may  pounce  upon  a  woodland  songster. 

xxxvi.' 
They  erred,  as  aged  men  will  do ;  but  by 

And  by  we  '11  talk  of  that ;  and  if  we  don't, 
'T  will  be  because  our  notion  is  not  high 

Of  politicians  and  their  double  front, 
Who  live  by  lies,  yet  dare  not  boldly  lie  : — 

Now  what  I  love  in  women  is,  they  won't 
Or  can't  do  otherwise  than  lie — but  do  it 
So  well,  the  very  Truth  seems  falsehood  to  it. 

XXXVII. 

And,  after  all,  what  is  a  lie  ?     'T  is  but 
The  truth  in  masquerade  ;  and  I  defy  '• 

Historians — heroes — lawyers — priests,  to  put 
A  fact  without  some  leaven  of  a  lie. 

The  very  shadow  of  true  Truth  would  shut 
Up  annals — revelations — poesy, 

And  prophecy — except  it  should  be  dated 

Some  years  before  the  incidents  related. 

xxxvm. 

Praised  be  all  liars  and  all  lies  !     Who  now 
Can  tax  my  mild  Muse  with  misanthropy  ? 

i.   The  false  attempt  at  Truth .—[MS.] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON   JUAN.  439 

She  rings  the  World's  "  Te  Deum,"  and  her  brow 
Blushes  for  those  who  will  not : — but  to  sigh 

Is  idle  ;  let  us  like  most  others  bow, 
Kiss  hands — feet — any  part  of  Majesty, 

After  the  good  example  of  "  Green  Erin,"  1 

Whose  shamrock  now  seems  rather  worse  for  wearing. 

XXXIX. 

Don  Juan  was  presented,  and  his  dress 

And  mien  excited  general  admiration — 
I  don't  know  which  was  more  admired  or  less  : 

One  monstrous  diamond  drew  much  observation, 
Which  Catherine  in  a  moment  of  "  ivresse" 

(In  Love  or  Brandy's  fervent  fermentation), 
Bestowed  upon  him,  as  the  public  learned  ; 
And,  to  say  truth,  it  had  been  fairly  earned. 

XL. 
Besides  the  ministers  and  underlings, 

Who  must  be  courteous  to  the  accredited 
Diplomatists  of  rather  wavering  Kings, 

Until  their  royal  riddle  's  fully  read, 
The  very  clerks, — those  somewhat  dirty  springs 

Of  Office,  or  the  House  of  Office,  fed 
By  foul  corruption  into  streams, — even  they 
Were  hardly  rude  enough  to  earn  their  pay  : 

XLI. 
And  insolence  no  doubt  is  what  they  are 

Employed  for,  since  it  is  their  daily  labour, 
In  the  dear  offices  of  Peace  or  War ; 
And  should  you  doubt,  pray  ask  of  your  next  neigh- 
bour, 
When  for  a  passport,  or  some  other  bar 

To  freedom,  he  applied  (a  grief  and  a  bore), 

i.       Kiss  hands — or  feet — or  what  Man  by  and  by 
Will  kiss,  not  in  sad  metaphor — but  earnest, 
Unless  on  Tyrants'  sterns — we  turn  the  sternest. — [MS.] 

i.  [Compare — 

"  Lo  !  Erin,  thy  Lord! 

Kiss  his  foot  with  thy  blessing  " 

The  Irish  Avatar,  stanza  14,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv.  558.] 


44°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

If  he  found  not  this  spawn  of  tax-born  riches, 
Like  lap-dogs,  the  least  civil  sons  of  b s. 

XLII. 
But  Juan  was  received  with  much  "  empressement : " — 

These  phrases  of  refinement  I  must  borrow 
From  our  next  neighbours'  land,  where,  like  a  chessman, 

There  is  a  move  set  down  for  joy  or  sorrow, 
Not  only  in  mere  talking,  but  the  press.     Man 

In  Islands  is,  it  seems,  downright  and  thorough, 
More  than  on  Continents — as  if  the  Sea 
(See  Billingsgate)  made  even  the  tongue  more  free. 

XLIII. 
And  yet  the  British  "  Damme  "  's  rather  Attic, 

Your  continental  oaths  are  but  incontinent, 
And  turn  on  things  which  no  aristocratic 

Spirit  would  name,  and  therefore  even  I  won't  anent 1 
This  subject  quote ;  as  it  would  be  schismatic 

In  politesse,  and  have  a  sound  affronting  in  't ; — 
But  "  Damme  "  's  quite  ethereal,  though  too  daring — 
Platonic  blasphemy — the  soul  of  swearing.' 

XLIV. 
For  downright  rudeness,  ye  may  stay  at  home ; 

For  true  or  false  politeness  (and  scarce  that 
Now)  yOu  may  cross  the  blue  deep  and  white  foam — 

The  first  the  emblem  (rarely  though)  of  what 
You  leave  behind,  the  next  of  much  you  come 

To  meet.     However,  't  is  no  time  to  chat 
On  general  topics :  poems  must  confine 
Themselves  to  unity,  like  this  of  mine."- 

XLV. 

In  the  great  world, — which,  being  interpreted, 
Meaneth  the  West  or  worst  end  of  a  city, 

i.  But  "  Damme  's  "  simple — dashing— free  and  daring 

The  purest  blasphemy . — [A/.S.] 

ii.  About  such  general  matters — but  particular 

A  poem  s  progress  should  be  perpendicular. — [MSJ\ 

i.  "Anent"  was  a  Scotch  phrase  meaning  "concerning" — "with 
regard  to  : "  it  has  been  made  English  by  the  Scotch  novels  ;  and,  as 
the  Frenchman  said,  "If  it  be  not,  ought  to  be  English."  [See,  for 
instance,  The  Abbot,  chap.  xvii.  132.] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON    JUAN.  44! 

And  about  twice  two  thousand  people  bred 

By  no  means  to  be  very  wise  or  witty, 
But  to  sit  up  while  others  lie  in  bed, 

And  look  down  on  the  Universe  with  pity, — 
Juan,  as  an  inveterate  patrician, 
Was  well  received  by  persons  of  condition. 

XLVI. 

He  was  a  bachelor,  which  is  a  matter 

Of  import  both  to  virgin  and  to  bride, 
The  former's  hymeneal  hopes  to  flatter; 

And  (should  she  not  hold  fast  by  Love  or  Pride) 
'T  is  also  of  some  moment  to  the  latter  : 

A  rib  's  a  thorn  in  a  wed  gallant's  side, 
Requires  decorum,  and  is  apt  to  double 
The  horrid  sin — and  what 's  still  worse,  the  trouble. 

XLVII. 

But  Juan  was  a  bachelor — of  arts, 

And  parts,  and  hearts :  he  danced  and  sung,  and  had 
An  air  as  sentimental  as  Mozart's 

Softest  of  melodies ;  and  could  be  sad 
Or  cheerful,  without  any  "  flaws  or  starts,"  1 

Just  at  the  proper  time :  and  though  a  lad, 
Had  seen  the  world — which  is  a  curious  sight, 
And  very  much  unlike  what  people  write. 

XLVIII. 

Fair  virgins  blushed  upon  him ;  wedded  dames 

Bloomed  also  in  less  transitory  hues ; i- 
For  both  commodities  dwell  by  the  Thames, 

The  painting  and  the  painted  ;  Youth,  Ceruse,"' 
Against  his  heart  preferred  their  usual  claims, 

Such  as  no  gentleman  can  quite  refuse  : 
Daughters  admired  his  dress,  and  pious  mothers 
Inquired  his  income,  and  if  he  had  brothers. 

i.  Blushed,  too,  but  it  was  hidden  by  their  rouge. — [MS.  erased.} 
ii.    The  natural  and  the  prepared  ceruse. — [MS.  erased.  1 

i.  [Macbeth,  act  iii.  sc.  4,  line  63.] 


442  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

XLIX. 

The  milliners  who  furnish  "  drapery  Misses  " l 
Throughout  the  season,  upon  speculation 

Of  payment  ere  the  Honeymoon's  last  kisses 
Have  waned  into  a  crescent's  coruscation, 

Thought  such  an  opportunity  as  this  is, 
Of  a  rich  foreigner's  initiation, 

Not  to  be  overlooked — and  gave  such  credit, 

That  future  bridegrooms  swore,  and  sighed,  and  paid  it. 

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

And  with  the  pages  of  the  last  Review 
Line  the  interior  of  their  heads  or  bonnets, 

Advanced  in  all  their  azure's  highest  hue  : 
They  talked  bad  French  or  Spanish,  and  upon  its 

Late  authors  asked  him  for  a  hint  or  two ; 
And  which  was  softest,  Russian  or  Castilian  ? 
And  whether  in  his  travels  he  saw  Ilion  ? 

LI. 

Juan,  who  was  a  little  superficial, 

And  not  in  literature  a  great  Drawcansir,2 

Examined  by  this  learned  and  especial 

Jury  of  matrons,  scarce  knew  what  to  answer  : 

His  duties  warlike,  loving  or  official, 
His  steady  application  as  a  dancer, 

1.  "Drapery  Misses." — This  term  is  probably  anything  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  fashionable 
young  female,  well  instructed  by  her  friends,  and  furnished  by  her 
milliner  with  a  wardrobe  upon  credit,  to  be  repaid,  when  married,  by 
the  husband.     The  riddle  was  first  read  to  me  by  a  young  and  pretty 
heiress,    on   my   praising  the    "drapery"   of   the    "  untochered"   but 
"pretty  virginities"  (like  Mrs.  Anne  Page)  of  the  then  day,  which  has 
now  been  some  years  yesterday :  she  assured  me  that  the  thing  was 
common  in  London  ;  and  as  her  own  thousands,  and  blooming  looks, 
and  rich  simplicity  of  array,  put  any  suspicion  in  her  own  case  out 
of  the  question,    I  confess  I  gave  some  credit  to  the  allegation.     If 
necessary,  authorities   might  be  cited ;  in  which  case   I  could   quote 
both  "drapery"  and  the  wearers.     Let  us  hope,  however,  that  it  is 
now  obsolete. 

2.  [Compare  Hints  from  Horace,  line  173,  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i. 
401,  note  i.] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON    JUAN.  443 

Had  kept  him  from  the  brink  of  Hippocrene, 
Which  now  he  found  was  blue  instead  of  green. 

LII. 
However,  he  replied  at  hazard,  with 

A  modest  confidence  and  calm  assurance, 
Which  lent  his  learned  lucubrations  pith, 

And  passed  for  arguments  of  good  endurance. 
That  prodigy,  Miss  Araminta  Smith 

(Who  at  sixteen  translated  "  Hercules  Furens  " 
Into  as  furious  English),  with  her  best  look, 
Set  down  his  sayings  in  her  common-place  book. 

LIII. 
Juan  knew  several  languages — as  well 

He  might — and  brought  them  up  with  skill,  in  time 
To  save  his  fame  with  each  accomplished  belle, 

Who  still  regretted  that  he  did  not  rhyme. 
There  wanted  but  this  requisite  to  swell 

His  qualities  (with  them)  into  sublime : 
Lady  Fitz-Frisky,  and  Miss  Msevia  Mannish, 
Both  longed  extremely  to  be  sung  in  Spanish. 

LIV. 
However,  he  did  pretty  well,  and  was 

Admitted  as  an  aspirant  to  all 
The  coteries,  and,  as  in  Banquo's  glass, 

At  great  assemblies  or  in  parties  small, 
He  saw  ten  thousand  living  authors  pass, 

That  being  about  their  average  numeral ; 
Also  the  eighty  "  greatest  living  poets,"  l 
As  every  paltry  magazine  can  show  it 's. 

LV. 
In  twice  five  years  the  "  greatest  living  poet," 

Like  to  the  champion  in  the  fisty  ring, 
Is  called  on  to  support  his  claim,  or  show  it, 

Although  't  is  an  imaginary  thing. 

i.  [In  his  so-called  "  Dedication  "  of  Marino  Faliero  to  Goethe,  Byron 
makes  fun  of  the  "nineteen  hundred  and  eighty-seven  poets,"  whose 
names  were  to  be  found  in  A  Biographical  Dictionary  of  Living 
Authors,  etc.  (See  Introduction  to  Marino  Faliero,  Poetical  Works, 
1901,  iv.  340,  341,  note  i.)] 


444  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

Even  I  —  albeit  I  'm  sure  I  did  not  know  it, 

Nor  sought  of  foolscap  subjects  to  be  king,  — 
Was  reckoned,  a  considerable  time, 
The  grand  Napoleon  of  the  realms  of  rhyme/' 

LVI. 
But  Juan  was  my  Moscow,  and  Faliero 

My  Leipsic,  and  my  Mont  Saint  Jean  seems  Cain  :  l 
La  Belle  Alliance  of  dunces  down  at  zero, 

Now  that  the  Lion  's  fallen,  may  rise  again  : 
But  I  will  fall  at  least  as  fell  my  Hero  ; 

Nor  reign  at  all,  or  as  a  monarch  reign  ; 
Or  to  some  lonely  isle  of  gaolers  go, 
With  turncoat  Southey  for  my  turnkey  Lowe.'1' 

LVII. 
Sir  Walter  reigned  before  me  ;  Moore  and  Campbell 

Before  and  after  ;  but  now  grown  more  holy, 
The  Muses  upon  Sion's  hill  must  ramble 

With  poets  almost  clergymen,  or  wholly  ; 
And  Pegasus  has  a  psalmodic  amble 

Beneath  the  very  Reverend  Rowley  Powley,"1'  2 
Who  shoes  the  glorious  animal  with  stilts, 
A  modern  Ancient  Pistol  —  "  by  these  hilts  !  "  3 

LVIII. 

Still  he  excels  that  artificial  hard 
Labourer  in  the  same  vineyard,  though  the  vine 

i.  A  paper  potentate  -  .  —  [MS.  erased.] 
ii.    With  turnkey  Southey  for  my  Hudson  Lowe.  —  [MS.] 
Hi.  Beneath  the  reverend  Cambyses  Croly.  —  [ 


1.  [See  "  Introduction  to  Cain"  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  204.] 

2.  [The  Reverend  George  Croly,  D.D.  (1780-1860),  began  his  literary 
career  as  dramatic  critic  of  the  Times.     "Croly,"  says  H.  C.  Robin- 
son (Diary,  1869,  i.  412),  "is  a  fierce-looking  Irishman,  very  lively  in 
conversation,  and  certainly  has  considerable  talents  as  a  writer  ;  his 
eloquence,  like  his  person,  is  rather  energetic  than  eloquent  (hence  the 
epithet  "Cambyses,"  i.e.  "  King  Cambyses'  vein"  in  var.  iii.).     "  He 
wrote  tragedies,  comedies,  and  novels  ;  and,  at  last,  settled  down  as 
a  preacher,  with  the  rank  of  doctor,  but  of  what  faculty  I  do  not  know  " 
(ibid.,  footnote,  H.  C.  R.  ,  1847).     He  wrote,  inter  alia,  Paris  in  1815, 
a  poem  ;    Catiline,  A   Tragedy,  1822  ;    and  Salathiel,  a  novel,  1827. 
In  lines  7,  8,  Byron  seems  to  refer  to  The  Angel  of  the   World,  An 
Arabian  Poem,  published  in  1820.] 

3.  [i  Henry  IV.,  act  ii.  sc.  4,  line  197.] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON   JUAN.  445 

Yields  him  but  vinegar  for  his  reward. — 
That  neutralised  dull  Dorus  of  the  Nine  ; 

That  swarthy  Sporus,  neither  man  nor  bard  ; 
That  ox  of  verse,  who  ploughs  for  every  line  : — 

Cambyses'  roaring  Romans  beat  at  least 

The  howling  Hebrews  of  Cybele's  priest. — * 

LIX. 
Then  there  's  my  gentle  Euphues, — who,  they  say,1 

Sets  up  for  being  a  sort  of  moral  me  ;  2 
He  '11  find  it  rather  difficult  some  day 

To  turn  out  both,  or  either,  it  may  be. 
Some  persons  think  that  Coleridge  hath  the  sway; 

And  Wordsworth  has  supporters,  two  or  three ; 
And  that  deep-mouthed  Boeotian  "  Savage  Landor  "  3 
Has  taken  for  a  swan  rogue  Southey's  gander. 

LX. 
John  Keats,  who  was  killed  off  by  one  critique, 

Just  as  he  really  promised  something  great, 
If  not  intelligible,  without  Greek 

Contrived  to  talk  about  the  gods  of  late, 
Much  as  they  might  have  been  supposed  to  speak.4 

Poor  fellow  !  His  was  an  untoward  fate ; 

i.   Then  there  's  my  gentle  Barry — who  they  say. — [MS.] 

1.  [Stanza  Iviii.  was  first  published  in  1837.     The  reference  is  to 
Henry  Hart  Milman  (1791-1868).    Byron  was  under  the  impression  that 
Milman  had  influenced  Murray  against  continuing  the  publication  of 
Don  Juan.    Added  to  this  surmise,  was  the  mistaken  belief  that  it  was 
Milman  who  had  written  the  article  in  the  Quarterly,  which  "killed 
John  Keats."     Hence  the  virulence  of  the  attack. 

"  Dull  Dorus"  is  obscure,  but  compare  Propertius,  Eleg.  III.  vii.  44, 
where  Callimachus  is  addressed  as  "  Dore  poeta."  He  is  the  "ox  of 
verse,"  because  he  had  been  recently  appointed  to  the  Professorship 
of  Poetry  at  Oxford.  The  "  roaring  Romans  "  are  "  The  soldiery  "  who 
shout  "All,  All,"  in  Croly's  Catiline,  act  v.  sc.  2.] 

2.  [Jeffrey,  in  his  review  of  A  Sicilian  Story,  etc.,  Bryan  Waller 
Procter    (Barry    Cornwall),   1787-1874  (Edinburgh  Revieiu,  January, 
1820,  vol.  33,  pp.   144-155),  compares  Diego  de  Mantilla,  a  poem  in 
ottava  rima,  with  Don  Juan,  favourably  and  unfavourably:  "There 
is  no  profligacy  and  no  horror  ...  no  mocking  of  virtue  and  honour, 
and  no  strong  mixtures  of  buffoonery  and  grandeur."     But  it  may  fairly 
match  with  Byron  and  his  Italian  models  "as  to  the  better  qualities  of 
elegance,  delicacy,  and  tenderness."     See,  too,  Blackiuood's  Edinburgh 
Magazine,  March,  1820,  vol.  vi.  pp.  153,  647.] 

3.  [See  Preface  to  the  Vision  of  Judgment,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv. 
484,  note  3.] 

4.  [Croker's  article  in  the  Quarterly  (April,  1818  [pub.  September], 


446  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

T  is  strange  the  mind,  that  very  fiery  particle,*- : 
Should  let  itself  be  snuffed  out  by  an  article. 

LXI. 

The  list  grows  long  of  live  and  dead  pretenders 
To  that  which  none  will  gain — or  none  will  know 

The  conqueror  at  least ;  who,  ere  Time  renders 
His  last  award,  will  have  the  long  grass  grow 

Above  his  burnt-out  brain,  and  sapless  cinders. 
If  I  might  augur,  I  should  rate  but  low 

Their  chances ; — they  're  too  numerous,  like  the  thirty 2 

Mock  tyrants,  when  Rome's  annals  waxed  but  dirty. 

LXII. 
This  is  the  literary  lower  empire, 

Where  the  praetorian  bands  take  up  the  matter ; — 
A  "  dreadful  trade,"  like  his  who  "  gathers  samphire,"  3 

The  insolent  soldiery  to  soothe  and  flatter, 
With  the  same  feelings  as  you  'd  coax  a  vampire. 

Now,  were  I  once  at  home,  and  in  good  satire, 
I  'd  try  conclusions  with  those  Janizaries, 
And  show  them  what  an  intellectual  war  is. 

LXIII. 
I  think  I  know  a  trick  or  two,  would  turn 

Their  flanks ; — but  it  is  hardly  worth  my  while, 
With  such  small  gear  to  give  myself  concern  : 

Indeed  I  've  not  the  necessary  bile ; 
My  natural  temper  's  really  aught  but  stern, 

And  even  my  Muse's  worst  reproof 's  a  smile ; 

i.  And  weakly  mind,  to  let  tliat  all  celestial  Particle. — \_MS.  erased.] 
or,  '  T  is  strange  the  mind  should  let  such  phrases  quell  its 

Chief  Impulse  with  afeio,frail,  paper  pellets.— \MS.  erased.] 

vol.  xix.  pp.  204-208)  did  not  "  kill  John  Keats."  See  letter  to  George 
and  Georgiana  Keats,  October,  1818  (Letters,  etc.,  1895,  p.  215).  Byron 
adopts  Shelley's  belief  that  the  Reviewer,  "miserable  man,"  "  one  of 
the  meanest,"  had  "wantonly  defaced  one  of  the  noblest  specimens 
of  the  workmanship  of  God."  See  Preface  to  Adonais,  and  stanzas 
xxxvi.,  xxxvii.] 

1.  "Divinae  particulam  auras  "  [Hor. ,  Sat.  ii.  2.  79]. 

2.  [For   "the  crowd  of  usurpers"  who  started  up  in  the  reign  of 
Gallienus,  and  were  dignified  with  the  honoured  appellation  of  "the 
thirty  tyrants,"  see  Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall,  1825,  i.  164.] 

3.  [King  Lear,  act  iv.  sc.  6,  line  15.  ] 


CANTO  XL]  DON  JUAN.  447 

And  then  she  drops  a  brief  and  modern  curtsy, 
And  glides  away,  assured  she  never  hurts  ye. 

LXIV. 
My  Juan,  whom  I  left  in  deadly  peril 

Amongst  live  poets  and  blue  ladies,  passed 
With  some  small  profit  through  that  field  so  sterile, 

Being  tired  in  time — and,  neither  least  nor  last, 
Left  it  before  he  had  been  treated  very  ill ; 

And  henceforth  found  himself  more  gaily  classed 
Amongst  the  higher  spirits  of  the  day, 
The  Sun's  true  son,  no  vapour,  but  a  ray. 

LXV. 
His  morns  he  passed  in  business — which  dissected, 

Was,  like  all  business,  a  laborious  nothing 
That  leads  to  lassitude,  the  most  infected 

And  Centaur  Nessus  garb  of  mortal  clothing,1 
And  on  our  sofas  makes  us  lie  dejected, 

And  talk  in  tender  horrors  of  our  loathing 
All  kinds  of  toil,  save  for  our  country's  good — 
Which  grows  no  better,  though  't  is  time  it  should. 

LXVI. 
His  afternoons  he  passed  in  visits,  luncheons, 

Lounging  and  boxing ;  and  the  twilight  hour 
In  riding  round  those  vegetable  puncheons 

Called  "  Parks,"  where  there  is  neither  fruit  nor  flower 
Enough  to  gratify  a  bee's  slight  munchings ; 

But  after  all  it  is  the  only  "  bower  "  2 
(In  Moore's  phrase)  where  the  fashionable  fair 
Can  form  a  slight  acquaintance  with  fresh  air. 

LXVII. 
Then  dress,  then  dinner,  then  awakes  the  world  ! 

Then  glare  the  lamps,  then  whirl  the  wheels,  then  roar 

1.  ["  Illita  Nesseo  misi  tibi  texta  veneno." 

Ovid.,  Heroid.  Epist.  ix.  163.] 

2.  [A  "  bower,"  in  Moore's  phrase,  signifies  a  solitude  a  deux ;  e.g. 
' '  Here's  the  Bower  she  lov'd  so  much. " 

"  Come  to  me,  love,  the  twilight  star 
Shall  guide  thee  to  my  bower." 

Moore.] 


448  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

Through  street  and  square  fast  flashing  chariots  hurled 
Like  harnessed  meteors ;  then  along  the  floor 

Chalk  mimics  painting ;  then  festoons  are  twirled ; 
Then  roll  the  brazen  thunders  of  the  door, 

Which  opens  to  the  thousand  happy  few 

An  earthly  Paradise  of  Or  Molu. 

LXVIII. 
There  stands  the  noble  hostess,  nor  shall  sink 

With  the  three-thousandth  curtsy ;  there  the  waltz, 
The  only  dance  which  teaches  girls  to  think,1 

Makes  one  in  love  even  with  its  very  faults. 
Saloon,  room,  hall,  o'erflow  beyond  their  brink, 

And  long  the  latest  of  arrivals  halts, 
'Midst  royal  dukes  and  dames  condemned  to  climb, 
And  gain  an  inch  of  staircase  at  a  time. 

LXIX. 
Thrice  happy  he  who,  after  a  survey 

Of  the  good  company,  can  win  a  corner, 
A  door  that 's  in  or  boudoir  out  of  the  way, 

Where  he  may  fix  himself  like  small  "  Jack  Horner," 
And  let  the  Babel  round  run  as  it  may, 

And  look  on  as  a  mourner,  or  a  scorner, 
Or  an  approver,  or  a  mere  spectator, 
Yawning  a  little  as  the  night  grows  later. 

LXX. 
But  this  won't  do,  save  by  and  by ;  and  he 

Who,  like  Don  Juan,  takes  an  active  share, 
Must  steer  with  care  through  all  that  glittering  sea 

Of  gems  and  plumes  and  pearls  and  silks,  to  where 
He  deems  it  is  his  proper  place  to  be  \ 

Dissolving  in  the  waltz  to  some  soft  air, 
Or  proudlier  prancing  with  mercurial  skill, 
Where  Science  marshals  forth  her  own  quadrille. 

LXXI. 

Or,  if  he  dance  not,  but  hath  higher  views 
Upon  an  heiress  or  his  neighbour's  bride, 

i.  [Compare  The  Wait",  lines  220-229,  et  passim,  Poetical  Works, 
1898,  i.  501.] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON    JUAN.  449 

Let  him  take  care  that  that  which  he  pursues 

Is  not  at  once  too  palpably  descried  : 
Full  many  an  eager  gentleman  oft  rues 

His  haste ;  Impatience  is  a  blundering  guide 
Amongst  a  people  famous  for  reflection, 
Who  like  to  play  the  fool  with  circumspection. 

LXXII. 
But,  if  you  can  contrive,  get  next  at  supper ; 

Or,  if  forestalled,  get  opposite  and  ogle  : — 
Oh,  ye  ambrosial  moments  !  always  upper 

In  mind,  a  sort  of  sentimental  bogle,1 
Which  sits  for  ever  upon  Memory's  crupper, 

The  ghost  of  vanished  pleasures  once  in  vogue  !  Ill 
Can  tender  souls  relate  the  rise  and  fall 
Of  hopes  and  fears  which  shake  a  single  ball. 

LXXIII. 
But  these  precautionary  hints  can  touch 

Only  the  common  run,  who  must  pursue, 
And  watch  and  ward ;  whose  plans  a  word  too  much 

Or  little  overturns  ;  and  not  the  few 
Or  many  (for  the  number  's  sometimes  such) 

Whom  a  good  mien,  especially  if  new, 
Or  fame — or  name — for  Wit,  War,  Sense,  or  Nonsense, 
Permits  whate'er  they  please, — or  did  not  long  since. 

LXXIV. 
Our  Hero — as  a  hero — young  and  handsome, 

Noble,  rich,  celebrated,  and  a  stranger, 
Like  other  slaves  of  course  must  pay  his  ransom, 

Before  he  can  escape  from  so  much  danger 
As  will  environ  a  conspicuous  man.    Some 

Talk  about  poetry,  and  "  rack  and  manger," 
And  ugliness,  disease,  as  toil  and  trouble ; — 
I  wish  they  knew  the  life  of  a  young  noble. 

LXXV. 

They  are  young,  but  know  not  Youth — it  is  anticipated ; 
Handsome  but  wasted,  rich  without  a  sou  ;  '• 

i.  Handsome  but  blas6 . — [AfS.~] 

i.  Scotch  for  goblin. 
VOL.  VI.  2    G 


45°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

Their  vigour  in  a  thousand  arms  is  dissipated  ; 

Their    cash    comes  from,   their    wealth    goes    to  a 

Jew  ; 
Both  senates  see  their  nightly  votes  participated 

Between  the  Tyrant's  and  the  Tribunes'  crew  ; 
And  having  voted,  dined,  drunk,  gamed,  and  whored, 
The  family  vault  receives  another  Lord. 

LXXVI. 

"  Where  is  the  World  ?  "   cries   Young,  "  at  eighty  "  —  1 
"  Where 

The  World  in  which  a  man  was  born  ?  "     Alas  ! 
Where  is  the  world  of  eight  years  past  ?     '  T  was  there  — 

I  look  for  it  —  't  is  gone,  a  globe  of  glass  ! 
Cracked,  shivered,  vanished,  scarcely  gazed  on,  ere  '• 

A  silent  change  dissolves  the  glittering  mass. 
Statesmen,  Chiefs,  Orators,  Queens,  Patriots,  Kings, 
And  Dandies  —  all  are  gone  on  the  Wind's  wings. 

LXXVII. 

Where  is  Napoleon  the  Grand  ?     God  knows  ! 

Where  little  Castlereagh  ?     The  devil  can  tell  ! 
Where  Grattan,  Curran,  Sheridan  —  all  those 

Who  bound  the  Bar  or  Senate  in  their  spell  ? 
Where  is  the  unhappy  Queen,  with  all  her  woes  ? 

And   where   the    Daughter,   whom    the    Isles    loved 

well? 

Where  are  those  martyred  saints  the  Five  per  Cents  ?  ii-  2 
And  where  —  oh,  where  the  devil  are  the  Rents  ? 

i.  And  fresher,  since  without  a  breath  of  air.  —  [MS.~\ 
ii.    Where  are  the  thousand  lovely  innocents  ?  —  [ 


1.  [The  sentiment  is  reiterated  in  The  Night  Thoughts,  and  is  the 
theme  of  Resignation,  which  was  written  and  published  when  Young 
was  more  than  eighty  years  old.] 

2.  ["I  have  .  .  .  written  ...  to  express  my  willingness  to  accept 
the,  or  almost  any  mortgage,  any  thing  to  get  out  of  the  tremulous 
Funds  of  these  oscillating  times.     There  will  be  a  war  somewhere,  no 
doubt  —  and  whatever  it  may  be,  the  Funds  will  be  affected  more  or 
less  ;  so  pray  get  us  out  of  them  with  all  proper  expedition.     It  has 
been  the  burthen  of  my  song  to  you  three  years  and  better,  and  about 
as  useful  as  better  counsels."  —  Letter  of  Byron  to  Kinnaird,  January 
18,  1823,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  162,  163.] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON   JUAN.  45 1 

LXXVIII. 

Where  's   Brummell?     Dished.     Where  's   Long   Pole 
Wellesley  ? 1     Diddled. 

Where  's  Whitbread  ?     Romilly  ?     Where  's  George 

the  Third  ? 
Where  is  his  will  ? a  (That 's  not  so  soon  unriddled.) 

And  where  is  "  Fum  "  the  Fourth,  our  "  royal  bird  ?  "  3 
Gone  down,  it  seems,  to  Scotland  to  be  fiddled 

Unto  by  Sawney's  violin,  we  have  heard  : 
"  Caw  me,  caw  thee" — for  six  months  hath  been  hatching 
This  scene  of  royal  itch  and  loyal  scratching. 

LXXIX. 
Where  is  Lord  This  ?    And  where  my  Lady  That  ? 

The  Honourable  Mistresses  and  Misses  ? 
Some  laid  aside  like  an  old  Opera  hat, 

Married,  unmarried,  and  remarried  :  (this  is 
An  evolution  oft  performed  of  late). 

Where  are  the  Dublin  shouts— and  London  hisses  ? 
Where  are  the  Grenvilles  ?  Turned  as  usual.  Where 
My  friends  the  Whigs  ?  Exactly  where  they  were. 

LXXX. 

Where  are  the  Lady  Carolines  and  Franceses  ?4 
Divorced  or  doing  thereanent.     Ye  annals 

1.  [For  William  Pole  Tylney  Long  Wellesley  (1788-1857),  see  The 
Waltz,  line  21,  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  484,  note  i.     He  was  only  on 
the  way  to  being  "diddled  "  in  1822,  but  the  prophecy  (suggested,  no 
doubt,  by  the  announcement  of  the  sale  of  furniture,  etc. ,  at  Wanstead 
House,  in  the  Morning  Chronicle,  July  8,  1822)  was  ultimately  fulfilled. 
Samuel  Whitbread,  born  1758,  committed  suicide  Juiy  6,  1815.     Sir 
Samuel  Romilly,  born  1758,  committed  suicide  November  2,  1818.] 

2.  [According  to  Charles  Greville,  George  the  Third  made  two  wills 
— the  first  in  1770,  the  second,  which  he  never  signed,  in  1810.     By  the 
first  will  he  left  ' '  all  he  had  to  the  Queen  for  her  life,  Buckingham 
House  to  the  Duke  of  Clarence,"  etc.,  and  as  Buckingham  House  had 
been  twice  sold,  and  the  other  legatees  were  dead,  a  question  arose 
between  the  King  and  the  Duke  of  York  as  to  the  right  of  inheritance 
of  their  father's  personal  property.     George  IV.  conceived  that  it  de- 
volved upon  him  personally,  and  not  on  the  Crown,  and  "consequently 
appropriated  to  himself  the  whole  of  the  money  and  the  jewels."     It  is 
possible  that  this  difference  between  the  brothers  was  noised  abroad, 
and  that  old  stories  of  the  destruction  of  royal  wills  were  revived  to 
the  new  king's  discredit.     (See  The  Greville  Memoirs,  1875,  i.  64,  65.)] 

3.  [See  Moore's  Fum  and  Hum,  the  Two  Birds  of  Royalty,  appended 
to  his  Fudge  Family.  ] 

4.  [Lady  Caroline  Lamb  and  Lady  Frances  Wedderburn  Webster.] 


452  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

So  brilliant,  where  the  list  of  routs  and  dances  is, — 
Thou  Morning  Post,  sole  record  of  the  panels 

Broken  in  carriages,  and  all  the  phantasies 

Of  fashion, — say  what  streams  now  fill  those  channels  ? 

Some  die,  some  fly,  some  languish  on  the  Continent, 

Because  the  times  have  hardly  left  them  one  tenant. 

LXXXI. 
Some  who  once  set  their  caps  at  cautious  dukes,'' 

Have  taken  up  at  length  with  younger  brothers  : 
Some  heiresses  have  bit  at  sharpers'  hooks  : 

Some  maids  have   been   made  wives,   some   merely 

mothers  : 
Others  have  lost  their  fresh  and  fairy  looks : 

In  short,  the  list  of  alterations  bothers. 
There  's  little  strange  in  this,  but  something  strange  is 
The  unusual  quickness  of  these  common  changes. 

LXXXII. 

Talk  not  of  seventy  years  as  age  ;  in  seven 

I  have  seen  more  changes,  down  from  monarchs  to 

The  humblest  individuals  under  Heaven, 

Than  might  suffice  a  moderate  century  through. 

I  knew  that  nought  was  lasting,  but  now  even 

Change  grows  too  changeable,  without  being  new  : 

Nought 's  permanent  among  the  human  race, 

Except  the  Whigs  not  getting  into  place. 

LXXXIII. 
I  have  seen  Napoleon,  who  seemed  quite  a  Jupiter, 

Shrink  to  a  Saturn.     I  have  seen  a  Duke 
(No  matter  which)  turn  politician  stupider, 

If  that  can  well  be,  than  his  wooden  look. 
But  it  is  time  that  I  should  hoist  my  "  blue  Peter," 

And  sail  for  a  new  theme  : — I  have  seen — and  shook 
To  see  it — the  King  hissed,  and  then  caressed ; 
But  don't  pretend  to  settle  which  was  best. 

LXXXIV. 

I  have  seen  the  Landholders  without  a  rap — 
I  have  seen  Joanna  Southcote — I  have  seen 

i.  — —  their  caps  and  curls  at  Dukes. — [MS.] 


CANTO  XI.]  DON   JUAN.  453 

The  House  of  Commons  turned  to  a  tax-trap — 
I  have  seen  that  sad  affair  of  the  late  Queen — 

I  have  seen  crowns  worn  instead  of  a  fool's  cap — 
I  have  seen  a  Congress  l  doing  all  that 's  mean — 

I  have  seen  some  nations,  like  o'erloaded  asses, 

Kick  off  their  burthens — meaning  the  high  classes. 

LXXXV. 
I  have  seen  small  poets,  and  great  prosers,  and 

Interminable — not  eternal — speakers — 
I  have  seen  the  funds  at  war  with  house  and  land — 

I  have  seen  the  country  gentlemen  turn  squeakers  — 
I  have  seen  the  people  ridden  o'er  like  sand 

By  slaves  on  horseback — I  have  seen  malt  liquors 
Exchanged  for  "  thin  potations  "  2  by  John  Bull — 
I  have  seen  John  half  detect  himself  a  fool. — 

LXXXVI. 
But  "  carpe  diem"  Juan,  "  carpe^  carpe!"  3 

To-morrow  sees  another  race  as  gay 
And  transient,  and  devoured  by  the  same  harpy. 

"  Life  's  a  poor  player,"  4 — then  "  play  out  the  play,6 
Ye  villains  !  "  and  above  all  keep  a.  sharp  eye 

Much  less  on  what  you  do  than  what  you  say  : 
Be  hypocritical,  be  cautious,  be 
Not  what  you  seem,  but  always  what  you  see. 

LXXXVII. 
But  how  shall  I  relate  in  other  cantos 

Of  what  befell  our  hero  in  the  land, 
Which  't  is  the  common  cry  and  lie  to  vaunt  as 

A  moral  country  ?     But  I  hold  my  hand — 
For  I  disdain  to  write  an  Atalantis ; 6 

But 't  is  as  well  at  once  to  understand, 

i.  [The  Congress  at  Verona,  in  1822.     See  the  Introduction  to  The 
Age  of  Bronze,  Poetical  Works,  1891,  v.  537-540.] 


2. 


2  Henry  IV.,  act  iv.  sc.  3,  line  117.] 


r.,  Od.  I.  xi.  lineS.] 

4.  'Macbeth,  act  v.  sc.  5,  line  24.] 

5.  i  Henry  IV.,  act  ii.  sc.  4,  line  463.] 

6.  [See  the  Secret  Memoirs  and  Manners  of  several  Persons  of  Quality, 
of  Both  Sexes,  from   the  New  Atalantis,  1709,  a  work  in  which   the 
authoress,  Mrs.  Manley,  satirizes  the  distinguished  characters  of  her 
day.     Warburton  (  Works  of  Pope,  ed.  1751,  i.  244)  calls  it  "  a  famous 


454  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xi. 

You  are  not  a  moral  people,  and  you  know  it, 
Without  the  aid  of  too  sincere  a  poet. 

LXXXVIII. 
What  Juan  saw  and  underwent  shall  be 

My  topic,  with  of  course  the  due  restriction 
Which  is  required  by  proper  courtesy ; 

And  recollect  the  work  is  only  fiction, 
And  that  I  sing  of  neither  mine  nor  me, 

Though  every  scribe,  in  some  slight  turn  of  diction, 
Will  hint  allusions  never  meant.     Ne'er  doubt 
This — when  I  speak,  I  don't  hint,  but  speak  out. 

LXXXIX. 

Whether  he  married  with  the  third  or  fourth 

Offspring  of  some  sage  husband-hunting  countess, 

Or  whether  with  some  virgin  of  more  worth 
(I  mean  in  Fortune's  matrimonial  bounties), 

He  took  to  regularly  peopling  Earth, 

Of  which  your  lawful,  awful  wedlock  fount  is, — 

Or  whether  he  was  taken  in  for  damages, 

For  being  too  excursive  in  his  homages, — 

xc. 
Is  yet  within  the  unread  events  of  Time. 

Thus  far,  go  forth,  thou  Lay,  which  I  will  back 
Against  the  same  given  quantity  of  rhyme, 

For  being  as  much  the  subject  of  attack 
As  ever  yet  was  any  work  sublime, 

By  those  who  love  to  say  that  white  is  black. 
So  much  the  better ! — I  may  stand  alone, 
But  would  not  change  my  free  thoughts  for  a  throne.1 

book,  .  .  .  full  of  court  and  party  scandal,  and  in  a  loose  effeminacy  of 
style  and  sentiment,  which  well  suited  the  debauched  taste  of  the  better 
vulgar."     Pope  also  alludes  to  it  in  the  Rape  of  the  Lock,  iii.  165,  166 — 
"As  long  as  Atalantis  shall  be  read, 

Or  the  small  pillow  grace  a  lady's  bed. " 
And  Swift,  in  his  ballad  on  "  Corinna  "  (stanza  8) — 
1 '  Her  common-place  book  all  gallant  is, 

Of  scandal  now  a  cornucopia, 
She  pours  it  out  in  Atalantis, 
Or  memoirs  of  the  New  Utopia." 

Works,  1824,  xii.  302.] 

i.  [Oct.  17,  1822.—  MS.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  455 


CANTO   THE   TWELFTH. 


i. 

OF  all  the  barbarous  middle  ages,  that 
Which  is  most  barbarous  is  the  middle  age 

Of  man  !  it  is —  I  really  scarce  know  what ; 
But  when  we  hover  between  fool  and  sage, 

And  don't  know  justly  what  we  would  be  at — 
A  period  something  like  a  printed  page, 

Black  letter  upon  foolscap,  while  our  hair 

Grows  grizzled,  and  we  are  not  what  we  were ; — 

ii. 
Too  old  for  Youth, — too  young,  at  thirty-five, 

To  herd  with  boys,  or  hoard  with  good  threescore, — 
I  wonder  people  should  be  left  alive ; 

But  since  they  are,  that  epoch  is  a  bore : 
Love  lingers  still,  although  't  were  late  to  wive : 

And  as  for  other  love,  the  illusion  's  o'er ; 
And  Money,  that  most  pure  imagination, 
Gleams  only  through  the  dawn  of  its  creation.1 

in. 

O  Gold  !     Why  call  we  misers  miserable  ?  2 
Theirs  is  the  pleasure  that  can  never  pall ; 

1.  [See  letter  to  Douglas  Kinnaird,  dated  Genoa,  January  18,  1823.] 

2.  [Johnson  would  not  believe  that  "a  complete  miser  is  a  happy 
man."     "That,"  he  said,  "  is  flying  in  the  face  of  all  the  world,  who 
have  called  an  avaricious  man  a  miser,  because  he  is  miserable.     No, 
sir ;  a  man  who  both  spends  and  saves  money  is  the  happiest  man, 
because  he  has  both  enjoyments." — Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson,  1876,  p. 
605.] 


45  6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xn. 

Theirs  is  the  best  bower  anchor,  the  chain  cable 
Which  holds  fast  other  pleasures  great  and  small. 

Ye  who  but  see  the  saving  man  at  table, 

And  scorn  his  temperate  board,  as  none  at  all, 

And  wonder  how  the  wealthy  can  be  sparing, 

Know  not  what  visions  spring  from  each  cheese-paring. 

IV. 

Love  or  lust  makes  Man  sick,  and  wine  much  sicker ; 

Ambition  rends,  and  gaming  gains  a  loss  ; 
But  making  money,  slowly  first,  then  quicker, 

And  adding  still  a  little  through  each  cross 
(Which  will  come  over  things),  beats  Love  or  liquor, 

The  gamester's  counter,  or  the  statesman's  dross. 
O  Gold !     I  still  prefer  thee  unto  paper, 
Which  makes  bank  credit  like  a  bank  of  vapour. 

v. 
Who  hold  the  balance  of  the  World  ?    Who  reign 

O'er  congress,  whether  royalist  or  liberal  ? 
Who  rouse  the  shirtless  patriots  of  Spain  ? * 

(That   make    old    Europe's   journals    "  squeak    and 

gibber  "-2  all) 
Who  keep  the  World,  both  old  and  new,  in  pain 

Or  pleasure  ?    Who  make  politics  run  glibber  all  ? 
The  shade  of  Buonaparte's  noble  daring  ? — 
Jew  Rothschild,3  and  his  fellow-Christian,  Baring. 

VI. 

Those,  and  the  truly  liberal  Lafitte,4 

Are  the  true  Lords  of  Europe.     Every  loan 

Is  not  a  merely  speculative  hit, 

But  seats  a  Nation  or  upsets  a  Throne. 

Republics  also  get  involved  a  bit; 

Columbia's  stock  hath  holders  not  unknown 

i.  [The  Descamisados,  or  Sansculottes  of  the  Spanish  Revolution  of 
1820-1823.  For  Spanish  "  Liberals,"  see  Quarterly  Review,  April, 
1823,  vol.  xxix.  pp.  270-276.] 


[Hamltt,  act  i.  sc.  i,  line  n6.1 
[See  T- 


3.  [See  The  Age  of  Bronze,  line  678,  sq. ,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v. 
573.  »ote  3.] 

4.  [Jacques  Laffitte  (1767-1844),  as  Governor  of  the  Bank  of  France, 
advanced  sums  to  Parisians  to  meet  their  enforced  contributions  to  the 
allies,  and,  in  1817,  advocated  liberal  measures  as  a  Deputy.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  457 

On  'Change ;  and  even  thy  silver  soil,  Peru, 
Must  get  itself  discounted  by  a  Jew. 

VII. 

Why  call  the  miser  miserable  ?  as 

I  said  before  :  the  frugal  life  is  his, 
Which  in  a  saint  or  cynic  ever  was 

The  theme  of  praise  :  a  hermit  would  not  miss 
Canonization  for  the  self-same  cause, 

And  wherefore  blame  gaunt  Wealth's  austerities  ? 
Because,  you  '11  say,  nought  calls  for  such  a  trial ; — 
Then  there  's  more  merit  in  his  self-denial. 

VIII. 

He  is  your  only  poet ; — Passion,  pure 

And  sparkling  on  from  heap  to  heap,  displays, 

Possessed,  the  ore,  of  which  mere  hopes  allure 
Nations  athwart  the  deep :  the  golden  rays 

Flash  up  in  ingots  from  the  mine  obscure : 
On  him  the  Diamond  pours  its  brilliant  blaze, 

While  the  mild  Emerald's  beam  shades  down  the  dies 

Of  other  stones,  to  soothe  the  miser's  eyes. 

IX. 

The  lands  on  either  side  are  his ;  the  ship 
From  Ceylon,  Inde,  or  far  Cathay,  unloads 

For  him  the  fragrant  produce  of  each  trip ; 
Beneath  his  cars  of  Ceres  groan  the  roads, 

And  the  vine  blushes  like  Aurora's  lip ; 
His  very  cellars  might  be  Kings'  abodes  ; 

While  he,  despising  every  sensual  call, 

Commands — the  intellectual  Lord  of  all. 

x. 

Perhaps  he  hath  great  projects  in  his  mind, 
To  build  a  college,  or  to  found  a  race, 

A  hospital,  a  church, — and  leave  behind 

Some  dome  surmounted  by  his  meagre  face : 

Perhaps  he  fain  would  liberate  Mankind 
Even  with  the  very  ore  which  makes  them  base  ; 

Perhaps  he  would  be  wealthiest  of  his  nation, 

Or  revel  in  the  joys  of  calculation. 


458  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xti. 

XI. 

But  whether  all,  or  each,  or  none  of  these 

May  be  the  hoarder's  principle  of  action, 
The  fool  will  call  such  mania  a  disease : — 

What  is  his  own  ?    Go — look  at  each  transaction, 
Wars,  revels,  loves — do  these  bring  men  more  ease 

Than    the    mere    plodding    through    each    "vulgar 

fraction  ?  " 

Or  do  they  benefit  Mankind  ?    Lean  Miser ! 
Let  spendthrifts'  heirs  inquire  of  yours — who  's  wiser  ? 

XII. 

How  beauteous  are  rouleaus  !  how  charming  chests 

Containing  ingots,  bags  of  dollars,  coins 
(Not  of  old  victors,  all  whose  heads  and  crests 

Weigh  not  the  thin  ore  where  their  visage  shines,1 
But)  of  fine  undipped  gold,  where  dully  rests 

Some  likeness,  which  the  glittering  cirque  confines, 
Of  modern,  reigning,  sterling,  stupid  stamp  ! — 
Yes  !  ready  money  is  Aladdin's  lamp.1 

XIII. 

"  Lbve  rules  the  Camp,  the  Court,  the  Grove, — for  Love 
Is  Heaven,  and  Heaven  is  Love  : " " — so  sings  the 
bard; 

Which  it  were  rather  difficult  to  prove 
(A  thing  with  poetry  in  general  hard). 

Perhaps  there  may  be  something  in  "  the  Grove," 
At  least  it  rhymes  to  "  Love  :  "  but  I  'm  prepared 

To  doubt  (no  less  than  landlords  of  their  rental) 

If  "  Courts  "  and  "  Camps  "  be  quite  so  sentimental. 

XIV. 

But  if  Love  don't,  Cash  does,  and  Cash  alone  : 
Cash  rules  the  Grove,  and  fells  it  too  besides  ; 

i.    Were  not  worth  one  -whereon  their  profile  shines. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  ["  They  say  that  '  Knowledge  is  Power' ;— I  used  to  think  so  ;  but 
I  now  know  that  they  meant  Money  .  J.    .   every  guinea  is  a  philo- 
sopher's stone,  or  at  least  his  touch-slone.    You  will  doubt  me  the  less, 
when  I  pronounce  my  pious  belief — that  Cash  is  Virtue." — Letter  to 
Kinnaird,  February  6,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  n.] 

2.  \Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  Canto  III.  stanza  ii.  lines  4-6.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  459 

Without  cash,  camps  were  thin,  and  courts  were  none ; 

Without  cash,  Malthus  tells  you — "  take  no  brides."  : 
So  Cash  rules  Love  the  ruler,  on  his  own 

High  ground,  as  virgin  Cynthia  sways  the  tides  : 
And  as  for  "  Heaven  being  Love,"  why  not  say  honey 
Is  wax  ?     Heaven  is  not  Love,  't  is  Matrimony. 

xv. 

Is  not  all  Love  prohibited  whatever, 

Excepting  Marriage  ?  which  is  Love,  no  doubt, 

After  a  sort ;  but  somehow  people  never 

With  the  same  thought  the  two  words  have  helped  out. 

Love  may  exist  with  Marriage,  and  should  ever, 
And  Marriage  also  may  exist  without ; 

But  Love  sans  banns  is  both  a  sin  and  shame, 

And  ought  to  go  by  quite  another  name. 

XVI. 

Now  if  the  "  Court,"  and  "  Camp,"  and  "  Grove,"  be  not 
Recruited  all  with  constant  married  men, 

Who  never  coveted  their  neighbour's  lot, 
I  say  that  line  's  a  lapsus  of  the  pen ; — 

Strange  too  in  my  buon  camerado  Scott, 
So  celebrated  for  his  morals,  when 

My  Jeffrey  held  him  up  as  an  example  2 

To  me ; — of  whom  these  morals  are  a  sample.1' 

XVII. 

Well,  if  I  don't  succeed,  I  have  succeeded, 
And  that 's  enough ;  succeeded  in  my  youth, 

i.  for  his  moral  pen 

Held  up  to  me  by  Jeffrey  as  example. 

Of  which,  with  profit — as  you' II  soon  see  by  a  sample. — [MS.  erased.] 

I.  [See  Godwin's  Essay  Of  Population,  1820  (pp.  18,  19,  et  passim). 
in  which  he  renews  his  attack  on  Malthus's  Essay  on  the  Principles  of 
Population.^ 

z.  ["  We  have  no  notion  that  Lord  B[yron]  had  any  mischievous  in- 
tention in  these  publications — and  readily  acquit  him  of  any  wish  to 
corrupt  the  morals,  or  impair  the  happiness  of  his  readers  .  .  .  but  it  is 
our  duty  ...  to  say,  that  much  of  what  he  has  published  appears  to  us 
to  have  this  tendency.  .  .  .  How  opposite  to  this  is  the  system,  or  the 
temper,  of  the  great  author  of  Waverley  ! " — Edinburgh  Review, 
February,  1822,  vol.  36,  p.  451.] 


460  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xn. 

The  only  time  when  much  success  is  needed  : 
And  my  success  produced  what  I,  in  sooth, 

Cared  most  about ;  it  need  not  now  be  pleaded — 
Whate'er  it  was,  'twas  mine ;  I  've  paid,  in  truth, 

Of  late,  the  penalty  of  such  success, 

But  have  not  learned  to  wish  it  any  less. 

XVIII. 

That  suit  in  Chancery,1 — which  some  persons  plead 

In  an  appeal  to  the  unborn,  whom  they, 
In  the  faith  of  their  procreative  creed, 

Baptize  Posterity,  or  future  clay, — 
To  me  seems  but  a  dubious  kind  of  reed 

To  lean  on  for  support  in  any  way ; 
Since  odds  are  that  Posterity  will  know 
No  more  of  them,  than  they  of  her,  I  trow. 

xixJ- 
Why,  I  'm  Posterity — and  so  are  you  ; 

And  whom  do  we  remember  ?     Not  a  hundred. 
Were  every  memory  written  down  all  true, 

The  tenth  or  twentieth  name  would  be  but  blundered ; 
Even  Plutarch's  Lives  have  but  picked  out  a  few, 

And  'gainst  those  few  your  annalists  have  thundered  ; 
And  Mitford  2  in  the  nineteenth  century 
Gives,  with  Greek  truth,  the  good  old  Greek  the  lie. 

i.    That  suit  in  Chancery — /  have  a  Chancery  suit — 

In  right  good  earnest — also  an  appeal 
Before  the  Lords,  whose  Chancellor  's  more  acute 

In  Law  than  Equity — as  I  can  feel 
Because  my  Cases  put  his  Lordship  to  't 

And — though  no  doubt 't  is  for  the  Public  weal, 
His  Lordship's  Justice  is  not  that  of  Solomon — 
Not  that  I  deem  our  Chief  Judge  is  a  fwllow  man. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [In  the  case  of  Murray  v.  Benbow  (February  9,  1822),  the  Lord 
Chancellor  (Lord  Eldon)  refused  the  motion  for  an  injunction  to  re- 
strain the  defendant  from  publishing  a  pirated  edition  of  Lord  Byron's 
poem  of  Cain  (Jacob's  Reports,  p.  474,  note}.     Hence  (see  var.  i.)  the 
allusion  to  "Law"  and  "Equity."    The  "suit"  and  the  "appeal" 
(vide  ibid.)  refer  to  legal  proceedings  taken,  or  intended  to  be  taken, 
with  regard  to  certain  questions  arising  out  of  the  disposition  of  pro- 
perty under  Lady  Noel's  will.     (See  letters  to  Charles  Hanson,  Sep- 
tember 21,  November  30,  1822,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  115,  146.)] 

2.  See   [William]   Mitford's  Greece  (1829,  v.  314,  315).     "  Grnecia 
Verax."      His  great  pleasure  consists  in   praising  tyrants,   abusing 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  461 

XX. 

Good  people  all,  of  every  degree, 

Ye  gentle  readers  and  ungentle  writers, 

In  this  twelfth  Canto  't  is  my  wish  to  be 
As  serious  as  if  I  had  for  inditers 

Malthus  and  Wilberforce  : — the  last  set  free 
The  Negroes,  and  is  worth  a  million  fighters  ; 

While  Wellington  has  but  enslaved  the  Whites, 

And  Malthus l  does  the  thing  'gainst  which  he  writes. 

XXI. 

I  'm  serious — so  are  all  men  upon  paper ; 

And  why  should  I  not  form  my  speculation, 
And  hold  up  to  the  Sun  my  little  taper  ?  2 

Mankind  just  now  seem  wrapped  in  meditation 
On  constitutions  and  steam-boats  of  vapour ; 

While  sages  write  against  all  procreation, 
Unless  a  man  can  calculate  his  means 
Of  feeding  brats  the  moment  his  wife  weans. 

Plutarch,  spelling  oddly,  and  writing  quaintly ;  and  what  is  strange, 
after  all,  his  is  the  best  modern  history  of  Greece  in  any  language,  and 
he  is  perhaps  the  best  of  all  modern  historians  whatsoever.  Having 
named  his  sins,  it  is  but  fair  to  state  his  virtues — learning,  labour, 
research,  wrath,  and  partiality.  I  call  the  latter  virtues  in  a  writer, 
because  they  make  him  write  in  earnest. 

[Byron  consulted  Mitford  when  he  was  at"  work  on  Sardanapalus. 
(See  Extracts  from  a  Diary,  January  5,  1821,  Letters,  1901,  v.  152, 


note  i.)] 
i.  [The 


[Thomas  Robert  Malthus  (1766-1834)  married,  in  1804,  Harriet, 
daughter  of  John  Eckersall  of  Claverton  House,  near  Bath.  There 
were  three  children  of  the  marriage,  of  whom  two  survived  him.  Byron 
may  be  alluding  to  the  apocryphal  story  of  "his  eleven  daughters," 
related  by  J.  L.  A.  Cherbuliez,  in  the  Journal  des  Jzconomistes  (1850,  vol. 
xxv.  p.  135) :  "  Un  soir  .  .  .  il  y  avait  cercle  chez  M.  de  Sismondi,  a 
sa  maison  de  campagne  pres  de  Geneve.  .  .  .  Enfin,  on  annonce  le 
rivlrend  Malthus  et  sa  famille.  Sa  famille  !  .  .  .  Alors  on  voit  entrer 
une  charmante  jeune  fille,  puis  une  seconde,  puis  une  troisieme,  puis 
une  quatrieme,  puis  ...  II  n'y  en  avait,  ma  foi,  pas  moins  de  onze  ! " 
See  Malthus  and  his  Work,  by  James  Bonar,  1885,  pp.  412,  413. 
See,  too,  Nouveau  Dlctionnaire  de  L  itconomie  Politit/ite,  1892,  art. 
' '  Malthus. "] 
2.  [Compare — 

1 '  How  commentators  each  dark  passage  shun, 

And  hold  their  farthing  candle  to  the  sun." 
Love  of  Fame,  the  Universal  Passion,  by  Edward  Young, 

Sat,  vii.  lines  97,  98.! 


462  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  XH. 

XXII. 

That 's  noble  !     That 's  romantic  !     For  my  part, 
I  think  that  "  Philo-genitiveness  "  is — 

(Now  here  's  a  word  quite  after  my  own  heart, 
Though  there  's  a  shorter  a  good  deal  than  this, 

If  that  politeness  set  it  not  apart ; 

But  I  'm  resolved  to  say  nought  that  's  amiss) — 

I  say,  methinks  that  "  Philo-genitiveness  "  x 

Might  meet  from  men  a  little  more  forgiveness. 

XXIII. 

And  now  to  business. — O  my  gentle  Juan  ! 

Thou  art  in  London — in  that  pleasant  place, 
Where  every  kind  of  mischief 's  daily  brewing, 

Which  can  await  warm  Youth  in  its  wild  race. 
'T  is  true,  that  thy  career  is  not  a  new  one  ; 

Thou  art  no  novice  in  the  headlong  chase 
Of  early  life ;  but  this  is  a  new  land, 
Which  foreigners  can  never  understand. 

XXIV. 

What  with  a  small  diversity  of  climate, 

Of  hot  or  cold,  mercurial  or  sedate, 
I  could  send  forth  my  mandate  like  a  Primate 

Upon  the  rest  of  Europe's  social  state  ; 
But  thou  art  the  most  difficult  to  rhyme  at, 

Great  Britain,  which  the  Muse  may  penetrate. 
All  countries  have  their  "  Lions,"  but  in  thee 
There  is  but  one  superb  menagerie. 

XXV. 

But  I  am  sick  of  politics.     Begin — 

"  Paulo  Majora"     Juan,  undecided 
Amongst  the  paths  of  being  "  taken  in," 

Above  the  ice  had  like  a  skater  glided  :  '• 
When  tired  of  play,  he  flirted  without  sin 

With  some  of  those  fair  creatures  who  have  prided 

i.  He  played  and  paid,  made  love  without  much  sin. — [MS.  erased.} 

i.  [Philo-/n>genitiveness.  Spurzheim  and  Gall  discover  the  organ 
of  this  name  in  a  bump  behind  the  ears,  and  say  it  is  remarkably 
developed  in  the  bull.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  463 

Themselves  on  innocent  tantalisation,' 
And  hate  all  vice  except  its  reputation. 

XXVI. 

But  these  are  few,  and  in  the  end  they  make 
Some  devilish  escapade  or  stir,  which  shows 

That  even  the  purest  people  may  mistake 

Their  way  through  Virtue's  primrose  paths  of  snows ; 

And  then  men  stare,  as  if  a  new  ass  spake 
To  Balaam,  and  from  tongue  to  ear  o'erflows 

Quicksilver  small  talk,  ending  (if  you  note  it) 

With    the    kind    World's    Amen — "  Who    would    have 
thought  it  ?  " 

XXVII. 

The  little  Leila,  with  her  Orient  eyes, 

And  taciturn  Asiatic  disposition, 
(Which  saw  all  Western  things  with  small  surprise, 

To  the  surprise  of  people  of  condition, 
Who  think  that  novelties  are  butterflies 

To  be  pursued  as  food  for  inanition,) 
Her  charming  figure  and  romantic  history 
Became  a  kind  of  fashionable  mystery. 

XXVIII. 

The  women  much  divided — as  is  usual 
Amongst  the  sex  in  little  things  or  great — 

Think  not,  fair  creatures,  that  I  mean  to  abuse  you  all, 
I  have  always  liked  you  better  than  I  state — 

Since  1  've  grown  moral,  still  I  must  accuse  you  all 
Of  being  apt  to  talk  at  a  great  rate ; 

And  now  there  was  a  general  sensation 

Amongst  you,  about  Leila's  education. 

XXIX. 

In  one  point  only  were  you  settled — and 

You  had  reason ;  't  was  that  a  young  child  of  grace, 

As  beautiful  as  her  own  native  land, 
And  far  away,  the  last  bud  of  her  race, 

Howe'er  our  friend  Don  Juan  might  command 
Himself  for  five,  four,  three,  or  two  years'  space, 

i.    Themselves  on  seldom  yielding  to  temptation. — [MS.  erased.] 


464 


DON   JUAN. 


[CANTO  xn. 


Would  be  much  better  taught  beneath  the  eye 
Of  peeresses  whose  follies  had  run  dry. 

XXX. 

So  first  there  was  a  generous  emulation, 
And  then  there  was  a  general  competition, 

To  undertake  the  orphan's  education  : 
As  Juan  was  a  person  of  condition, 

It  had  been  an  affront  on  this  occasion 
To  talk  of  a  subscription  or  petition  ; 

But  sixteen  dowagers,  ten  unwed  she  sages 

Whose  tale  belongs  to  "  Hallam's  Middle  Ages,"  l 

XXXI. 

And  one  or  two  sad,  separate  wives,  without 
A  fruit  to  bloom  upon  their  withering  bough — 

Begged  to  bring  up  the  little  girl,  and  "  out" — 
For  that 's  the  phrase  that  settles  all  things  now, 

Meaning  a  virgin's  first  blush  at  a  rout, 
And  all  her  points  as  thorough-bred  to  show  : 

And  I  assure  you,  that  like  virgin  honey 

Tastes  their  first  season  (mostly  if  they  have  money). 

XXXII. 

How  all  the  needy  honourable  misters, 

Each  out-at-elbow  peer,  or  desperate  dandy, 

The  watchful  mothers,  and  the  careful  sisters, 
(Who,  by  the  by,  when  clever,  are  more  handy 

At  making  matches,  where  "  't  is  gold  that  glisters," 
Than  their  he  relatives),  like  flies  o'er  candy 

Buzz  round  "  the  Fortune  "  with  their  busy  battery, 

To  turn  her  head  with  waltzing  and  with  flattery  ! 

XXXIII. 

Each  aunt,  each  cousin,  hath  her  speculation ; 

Nay,  married  dames  will  now  and  then  discover 
Such  pure  disinterestedness  of  passion, 

I  've  known  them  court  an  heiress  for  their  lover. 
"  Tantcene  !  "     Such  the  virtues  of  high  station, 

Even  in  the  hopeful  Isle,  whose  outlet 's  "  Dover  ! " 
While  the  poor  rich  wretch,  object  of  these  cares, 
Has  cause  to  wish  her  sire  had  had  male  heirs. 

i.  [Henry  Hallam  (1778-1859)   published   his   Vino  of  the  State  of 
Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages  in  1818.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  465 

XXXIV. 

Some  are  soon  bagged,  and  some  reject  three  dozen : 
'T  is  fine  to  see  them  scattering  refusals 

And  wild  dismay  o'er  every  angry  cousin 
(Friends  of  the  party),  who  begin  accusals, 

Such  as — "  Unless  Miss  Blank  meant  to  have  chosen 
Poor  Frederick,  why  did  she  accord  perusals 

To  his  billets  ?     Why  waltz  with  him  ?    Why,  I  pray, 

Look  '  Yes '  last  night,  and  yet  say  '  No '  to-day  ? 

xxxv. 
"  Why  ? — Why  ? — Besides,  Fred  really  was  attacfod ; 

'T  was  not  her  fortune — he  has  enough  without  ; 
The  time  will  come  she  '11  wish  that  she  had  snatched 

So  good  an  opportunity,  no  doubt : — 
But  the  old  Marchioness  some  plan  had  hatched, 

As  I  '11  tell  Aurea  at  to-morrow's  rout : 
And  after  all  poor  Frederick  may  do  better — 
Pray  did  you  see  her  answer  to  his  letter  ?  " 

XXXVI. 

Smart  uniforms  and  sparkling  coronets 
Are  spurned  in  turn,  until  her  turn  arrives, 

After  male  loss  of  time,  and  hearts,  and  bets 
Upon  the  sweepstakes  for  substantial  wives  ; 

And  when  at  last  the  pretty  creature  gets 

Some  gentleman,  who  fights,  or  writes,  or  drives, 

It  soothes  the  awkward  squad  of  the  rejected 

To  find  how  very  badly  she  selected. 

XXXVII. 

For  sometimes  they  accept  some  long  pursuer, 

Worn  out  with  importunity  ;  or  fall 
(But  here  perhaps  the  instances  are  fewer) 

To  the  lot  of  him  who  scarce  pursued  at  all. 
A  hazy  widower  turned  of  forty  's  sure  '• L 

(If 't  is  not  vain  examples  to  recall)  "• 

i.  A  drunken  Gentleman  of  forty  's  sure. — [MS.] 
ii.  If  he  can  hiccup  nonsense  at  a  ball. 
or,  If  he  goes  after  dinner  to  a  ball. — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  This  line  may  puzzle  the  commentators  more  than  the  present 
generation. 

VOL.  VI.  2   H 


466  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xn. 

To  draw  a  high  prize  :  now,  howe'er  he  got  her,  I 
See  nought  more  strange  in  this  than  t'  other  lottery. 

XXXVIII. 

I,  for  my  part — (one  "  modern  instance  "  more, 
"  True,  't  is  a  pity — pity  't  is,  't  is  true  ") — 1 

Was  chosen  from  out  an  amatory  score, 

Albeit  my  years  were  less  discreet  than  few ; 

But  though  I  also  had  reformed  before 

Those  became  one  who  soon  were  to  be  two, 

I  '11  not  gainsay  the  generous  public's  voice, 

That  the  young  lady  made  a  monstrous  choice. 

XXXIX. 

Oh,  pardon  my  digression — or  at  least 
Peruse  !     T  is  always  with  a  moral  end 

That  I  dissert,  like  grace  before  a  feast : 
For  like  an  age*d  aunt,  or  tiresome  friend, 

A  rigid  guardian,  or  a  zealous  priest, 

My  Muse  by  exhortation  means  to  mend 

All  people,  at  all  times,  and  in  most  places, 

Which  puts  my  Pegasus  to  these  grave  paces. 

XL. 
But  now  I  'm  going  to  be  immoral ;  now 

I  mean  to  show  things  really  as  they  are, 
Not  as  they  ought  to  be  :  for  I  avow, 

That  till  we  see  what 's  what  in  fact,  we  're  far 
From  much  improvement  with  that  virtuous  plough 

Which  skims  the  surface,  leaving  scarce  a  scar 
Upon  the  black  loam  long  manured  by  Vice, 
Only  to  keep  its  corn  at  the  old  price. 

XLI. 
But  first  of  little  Leila  we  '11  dispose,' 

For  like  a  day-dawn  she  was  young  and  pure — 
Or  like  the  old  comparison  of  snows,'2 

(Which  are  more  pure  than  pleasant,  to  be  sure, 

i.  But  first  of  little  Leilak .—[MS.] 

1.  [As  You  Like  It,  act  ii.  sc.  7,  line  156 ;  and  Hamlet,  act  ii.  sc.  2, 
lines,  97,  98.] 

2.  [For  the  allusion  to  "  unsunned  snows,"  vide  ante,  p.  275,  note  i.j 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  467 

Like  many  people  everybody  knows), — 

Don  Juan  was  delighted  to  secure 
A  goodly  guardian  for  his  infant  charge, 
Who  might  not  profit  much  by  being  at  large. 

XLII. 

Besides,  he  had  found  out  he  was  no  tutor 
(I  wish  that  others  would  find  out  the  same),1 

And  rather  wished  in  such  things  to  stand  neuter, 
For  silly  wards  will  bring  their  guardians  blame  : 

So  when  he  saw  each  ancient  dame  a  suitor 
To  make  his  little  wild  Asiatic  tame, 

Consulting  "  the  Society  for  Vice 

Suppression,"  Lady  Pinchbeck  was  his  choice. 

XLIII. 

Olden  she  was — but  had  been  very  young ; 

Virtuous  she  was — and  had  been,  I  believe ; 
Although  the  World  has  such  an  evil  tongue 

That but  my  chaster  ear  will  not  receive 

An  echo  of  a  syllable  that 's  wrong  :  '• 

In  fact,  there  's  nothing  makes  me  so  much  grieve, 
As  that  abominable  tittle-tattle, 
Which  is  the  cud  eschewed  2  by  human  cattle. 

XLIV. 

Moreover  I  've  remarked  (and  I  was  once 

A  slight  observer  in  a  modest  way), 
And  so  may  every  one  except  a  dunce, 

That  ladies  in  their  youth  a  little  gay, 
Besides  their  knowledge  of  the  World,  and  sense 

Of  the  sad  consequence  of  going  astray, 
Are  wiser  in  their  warnings  'gainst  the  woe 
Which  the  mere  passionless  can  never  know. 

i.   That — but  I  will  not  listen,  by  your  leave, 
Unto  a  single  syllable . — [MS.] 

1.  [The  reference  may  be  to  Hobhouse  and  the  "Zoili  of  Albemarle 
Street,"  who  did  their  best  to  "tutor"  him  with  regard  to  "blazing 
indiscretions"  in  Don  Juan.} 

2.  [For  another  instance  of  this  curious  mistake,  see  letter  to  Hodg- 
son, December  8,  1811,  Letters,  1898,  ii.  85  ;  et  ibid.,  p.  31,  note  i.] 


468  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xn. 

XLV. 
While  the  harsh  prude  indemnifies  her  virtue 

By  railing  at  the  unknown  and  envied  passion, 
Seeking  far  less  to  save  you  than  to  hurt  you, 

Or,  what 's  still  worse,  to  put  you  out  of  fashion, — 
The  kinder  veteran  with  calm  words  will  court  you, 

Entreating  you  to  pause  before  you  dash  on ; 
Expounding  and  illustrating  the  riddle 
Of  epic  Love's  beginning — end — and  middle. 

XLVI. 
Now  whether  it  be  thus,  or  that  they  are  stricter, 

As  better  knowing  why  they  should  be  so, 
I  think  you  '11  find  from  many  a  family  picture, 

That  daughters  of  such  mothers  as  may  know 
The  World  by  experience  rather  than  by  lecture, 

Turn  out  much  better  for  the  Smithfield  Show 
Of  vestals  brought  into  the  marriage  mart, 
Than  those  bred  up  by  prudes  without  a  heart. 

XLVII. 
I  said  that  Lady  Pinchbeck  had  been  talked  about — 

As  who  has  not,  if  female,  young,  and  pretty  ? 
But  now  no  more  the  ghost  of  Scandal  stalked  about ; 

She  merely  was  deemed  amiable  and  witty, 
And  several  of  her  best  bons-mots  were  hawked  about : 

Then  she  was  given  to  charity  and  pity, 
And  passed  (at  least  the  latter  years  of  life) 
For  being  a  most  exemplary  wife. 

XLVIII. 

High  in  high  circles,  gentle  in  her  own, 
She  was  the  mild  reprover  of  the  young, 

Whenever — which  means  every  day — they  'd  shown 
An  awkward  inclination  to  go  wrong. 

The  quantity  of  good  she  did  's  unknown, 
Or  at  the  least  would  lengthen  out  my  song  : 

In  brief,  the  little  orphan  of  the  East 

Had  raised  an  interest  in  her, — which  increased. 

XLIX. 
Juan,  too,  was  a  sort  of  favourite  with  her, 

Because  she  thought  him  a  good  heart  at  bottom, 


CANTO  XII.]  DON    JUAN.  469 

A  little  spoiled,  but  not  so  altogether ; 

Which  was  a  wonder,  if  you  think  who  got  him, 
And  how  he  had  been  tossed,  he  scarce  knew  whither  : 

Though  this  might  ruin  others,  it  did  not  him, 
At  least  entirely — for  he  had  seen  too  many 
Changes  in  Youth,  to  be  surprised  at  any. 

L. 

And  these  vicissitudes  tell  best  in  youth  j 

For  when  they  happen  at  a  riper  age, 
People  are  apt  to  blame  the  Fates,  forsooth, 

And  wonder  Providence  is  not  more  sage. 
Adversity  is  the  first  path  to  Truth  : 

He  who  hath  proved  War — Storm — or  Woman's  rage, 
Whether  his  winters  be  eighteen  or  eighty, 
Hath  won  the  experience  which  is  deemed  so  weighty. 

LI. 
How  far  it  profits  is  another  matter. — 

Our  hero  gladly  saw  his  little  charge 
Safe  with  a  lady,  whose  last  grown-up  daughter 

Being  long  married,  and  thus  set  at  large, 
Had  left  all  the  accomplishments  she  taught  her 

To  be  transmitted,  like  the  Lord  Mayor's  barge, 
To  the  next  comer  ;  or — as  it  will  tell 
More  Muse-like — like  to  Cytherea's  shell.'- 

LIT. 
I  call  such  things  transmission  ;  for  there  is 

A  floating  balance  of  accomplishment, 
Which  forms  a  pedigree  from  Miss  to  Miss, 

According  as  their  minds  or  backs  are  bent. 
Some  waltz — some  draw — some  fathom  the  abyss 

Of  Metaphysics  ;  others  are  content 
With  Music ;  the  most  moderate  shine  as  wits ; — 
While  others  have  a  genius  turned  for  fits. 

141!. 

But  whether  fits,  or  wits,  or  harpsichords — 
Theology — fine  arts — or  finer  stays, 

i.  Painted  and  gilded — or,  as  it  -will  tell 

More  Muse-like — say — like  Cytherea's  shell. — [MS.] 


470  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xn. 

May  be  the  baits  for  Gentlemen  or  Lords 

With  regular  descent,  in  these  our  days, 
The  last  year  to  the  new  transfers  its  hoards  ; 

New  vestals  claim  men's  eyes  with  the  same  praise 
Of  "  elegant "  et  catera,  in  fresh  batches — 
All  matchless  creatures — and  yet  bent  on  matches. 

LfV. 

But  now  I  will  begin  my  poem.     'Tis 
Perhaps  a  little  strange,  if  not  quite  new, 

That  from  the  first  of  Cantos  up  to  this 

I  've  not  begun  what  we  have  to  go  through. 

These  first  twelve  books  are  merely  flourishes, 
Preludios,  trying  just  a  string  or  two 

Upon  my  lyre,  or  making  the  pegs  sure ; 

And  when  so,  you  shall  have  the  overture. 

LV. 

My  Muses  do  not  care  a  pinch  of  rosin 

About  what 's  called  success,  or  not  succeeding  : 

Such   thoughts   are   quite   below   the   strain   they  have 

chosen ; 
'T  is  a  "  great  moral  lesson  " *  they  are  reading. 

I  thought,  at  setting  off,  about  two  dozen 
Cantos  would  do ;  but  at  Apollo's  pleading, 

If  that  my  Pegasus  should  not  be  foundered, 

I  think  to  canter  gently  through  a  hundred. 

LVI. 

Don  Juan  saw  that  Microcosm  on  stilts, 
Yclept  the  Great  World ;  for  it  is  the  least, 

Although  the  highest :  but  as  swords  have  hilts 
By  which  their  power  of  mischief  is  increased, 

When  Man  in  battle  or  in  quarrel  tilts, 

Thus  the  low  world,  north,  south,  or  west,  or  east, 

Must  still  obey  the  high 2 — which  is  their  handle, 

Their  Moon,  their  Sun,  their  gas,  their  farthing  candle. 

1.  [Vide  ante,  Preface  to  Cantos  VI.,  VII.,  and  VIII.,  p.  266.] 

2.  ["  Enfin  partout  la  bonne  socie'te'  re"gle  tout." — Voltaire.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  47 1 

LVII. 

He  had  many  friends  who  had  many  wives,  and  was 
Well  looked  upon  by  both,  to  that  extent 

Of  friendship  which  you  may  accept  or  pass, 

It  does  nor  good  nor  harm ;  being  merely  meant 

To  keep  the  wheels  going  of  the  higher  class, 
And  draw  them  nightly  when  a  ticket 's  sent ; 

And  what  with  masquerades,  and  fetes,  and  balls, 

For  the  first  season  such  a  life  scarce  palls. 

LVIII. 
A  young  unmarried  man,  with  a  good  name 

And  fortune,  has  an  awkward  part  to  play  ; 
For  good  society  is  but  a  game, 

"  The  royal  game  of  Goose," l  as  I  may  say, 
Where  everybody  has  some  separate  aim, 

An  end  to  answer,  or  a  plan  to  lay — 
The  single  ladies  wishing  to  be  double, 
The  married  ones  to  save  the  virgins  trouble. 

LIX. 
I  don't  mean  this  as  general,  but  particular 

Examples  may  be  found  of  such  pursuits  : 
Though  several  also  keep  their  perpendicular 

Like  poplars,  with  good  principles  for  roots ; 
Yet  many  have  a  method  more  reticular — 

"  Fishers  for  men,"  like  Sirens  with  soft  lutes  : 
For  talk  six  times  with  the  same  single  lady, 
And  you  may  get  the  wedding-dresses  ready. 

LX. 

Perhaps  you  '11  have  a  letter  from  the  mother, 
To  say  her  daughter's  feelings  are  trepanned  ; 

Perhaps  you  '11  have  a  visit  from  the  brother, 
All  strut,  and  stays,  and  whiskers,  to  demand 

i.  ["This  game  originated,  1  believe,  in  Germany,.  .  .  It  is  called 
the  game  of  the  goose,  because  at  every  fourth  and  fifth  compartment 
of  the  table  in  succession  a  goose  is  depicted  ;  and  if  the  cast  thrown  by 
the  player  falls  upon  a  goose,  he  moves  forward  double  the  number  of 
his  throw"  (Sports  and  Pastimes,  etc.,  by  Joseph  Strutt,  1801,  p. 
250). 

Goldsmith,  in  his  Deserted  Village,  among  other  "parlour  splen- 
dours," mentions  "  the  twelve  good  rules,  the  royal  game  of  goose."] 


472  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xn. 

What  "  your  intentions  are  ?  " — One  way  or  other 
It  seems  the  virgin's  heart  expects  your  hand  : 
And  between  pity  for  her  case  and  yours, 
You  '11  add  to  Matrimony's  list  of  cures. 

LXI. 

I  've  known  a  dozen  weddings  made  even  f/ius, 
And  some  of  them  high  names  :  I  have  also  known 

Young  men  who — though  they  hated  to  discuss 

Pretensions  which  they  never  dreamed  to  have  shown — 

Yet  neither  frightened  by  a  female  fuss, 
Nor  by  mustachios  moved,  were  let  alone. 

And  lived,  as  did  the  broken-hearted  fair, 

In  happier  plight  than  if  they  formed  a  pair. 

LXII. 
There  's  also  nightly,  to  the  uninitiated, 

A  peril — not  indeed  like  Love  or  Marriage, 
But  not  the  less  for  this  to  be  depreciated : 

It  is — I  meant  and  mean  not  to  disparage 
The  show  of  Virtue  even  in  the  vitiated — 

It  adds  an  outward  grace  unto  their  carriage — 
But  to  denounce  the  amphibious  sort  of  harlot, 
Couleur  de  rose,  who  's  neither  white  nor  scarlet. 

LXIII. 
Such  is  your  cold  coquette,  who  can't  say  "  No," 

And  won't  say  "  Yes,"  and  keeps  you  on  and  off-ing 
On  a  lee-shore,  till  it  begins  to  blow — 

Then  sees  your  heart  wrecked,  with  an  inward  scoffing. 
This  works  a  world  of  sentimental  woe,L 

And  sends  new  Werters  yearly  to  their  coffin ; 
But  yet  is  merely  innocent  flirtation, 
Not  quite  adultery,  but  adulteration. 

LXIV. 

"  Ye  gods,  I  grow  a  talker  ! "  1     Let  us  prate. 
The  next  of  perils,  though  I  place  it  sternest, 

i.       Most  young  beginners  may  be  taken  so, 

But  those  who  have  been  a  little  used  to  roughing 

Know  hoia  to  end  this  half-and-half  flirtation. — [MS.  erased.} 

i.  ["I'll  grow  a  talker  for  this  gear." 

Merchant  of  Venice,  act  i.  sc.  i,  line  no.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  473 

Is  when,  without  regard  to  Church  or  State, 
A  wife  makes  or  takes  love  in  upright  earnest. 

Abroad,  such  things  decide  few  women's  fate — 

(Such,  early  Traveller !  is  the  truth  thou  learnest) — 

But  in  old  England,  when  a  young  bride  errs, 

Poor  thing  !  Eve's  was  a  trifling  case  to  hers. 

LXV. 
For  't  is  a  low,  newspaper,  humdrum,  lawsuit 

Country,  where  a  young  couple  of  the  same  ages ' 
Can't  form  a  friendship,  but  the  world  o'erawes  it. 

Then  there  's  the  vulgar  trick  of  those  d — d  damages  ! 
A  verdict — grievous  foe  to  those  who  cause  it ! — 

Forms  a  sad  climax  to  romantic  homages ; 
Besides  those  soothing  speeches  of  the  pleaders, 
And  evidences  which  regale  all  readers. 

LXVI. 
But  they  who  blunder  thus  are  raw  beginners ; 

A  little  genial  sprinkling  of  hypocrisy 
Has  saved  the  fame  of  thousand  splendid  sinners, 

The  loveliest  oligarchs  of  our  Gynocracy  ; * 
You  may  see  such  at  all  the  balls  and  dinners, 

Among  the  proudest  of  our  aristocracy, 
So  gentle,  charming,  charitable,  chaste — 
And  all  by  having  tact  as  well  as  taste. 

LXVI  I. 

Juan,  who  did  not  stand  in  the  predicament 
Of  a  mere  novice,  had  one  safeguard  more ; 

For   he   was   sick no,   't   was   not   the  word  sick  I 

meant — 
But  he  had  seen  so  much  good  love  before, 

That  he  was  not  in  heart  so  very  weak ; — I  meant 
But  thus  much,  and  no  sneer  against  the  shore 

Of  white  cliffs,  white  necks,  blue  eyes,  bluer  stockings — 

Tithes,  taxes,  duns— and  doors  with  double  knockings."- 

i.   Country  where  warm  young  people . — [MS.  crasi-c/.] 

ii.  Of -white  cliffs — and  white  bosoms — and  blue  eyes — 

And  stockings — virtues,  loves  and  Chastities. — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  [Pope    find    Scott    use  the   quasi-contracted   "gynocracy"   for 
"  gynsecocracy. "     (See  ^V.  Engl.  Dict.\\ 


474  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  XH. 

LXVIII. 

But  coming  young  from  lands  and  scenes  romantic, 
Where  lives,  not  lawsuits,  must  be  risked  for  Passion 

And  Passion's  self  must  have  a  spice  of  frantic, 
Into  a  country  where  't  is  half  a  fashion, 

Seemed  to  him  half  commercial,  half  pedantic, 
Howe'er  he  might  esteem  this  moral  nation  : 

Besides  (alas  !  his  taste — forgive  and  pity  !) 

ht  first  he  did  not  think  the  women  pretty. 

LXIX. 
I  say  at  first — for  he  found  out  at  last, 

But  by  degrees,  that  they  were  fairer  far 
Than  the  more  glowing  dames  whose  lot  is  cast 

Beneath  the  influence  of  the  Eastern  Star. 
A  further  proof  we  should  not  judge  in  haste ; 

Yet  inexperience  could  not  be  his  bar 
To  taste : — the  truth  is,  if  men  would  confess, 
That  novelties  please  less  than  they  impress. 

LXX. 

Though  travelled,  I  have  never  had  the  luck  to 
Trace  up  those  shuffling  negroes,  Nile  or  Niger, 

To  that  impracticable  place  Timbuctoo, 

Where  Geography  finds  no  one  to  oblige  her 

With  such  a  chart  as  may  be  safely  stuck  to — 
For  Europe  ploughs  in  Afric  like  "  bos  piger  : "  1 

But  if  I  had  been  at  Timbuctoo,  there 

No  doubt  I  should  be  told  that  black  is  fair.'- 

i.   Though  many  thousands  both  of  birth  and  pluck  too, 
Have  ventured  past  the  jaws  of  Moor  and  Tiger.* 
*  Note.  By  particular  licence,  "  positively  for  t/ie  last  time,  by  desire," 
etc.,  to  be  pronounced   "  tydger."     Such  is  what   Gifford  calls   "the 
necessity  of  rhyming." — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  [Hor.,  Epist.,  lib.  i,  ep.  xiv.  line  43.  The  meaning  is  that 
Europe  makes  but  little  progress  in  the  discovery  and  settlement  of 
Africa,  "and,  as  it  were,  "  ploughs  the  sands."] 

a.  [^"Though  many  degrees  nearer  our  own  fair  and  blue- eyed 
beauties  in  complexion  .  .  .  yet  no  people  ever  lost  more  by  com- 
parison than  did  the  white  ladies  of  Moorzuk  [capital  of  Fezzan]  with 
the  black  ones  of  Bornou  and  Soudan." — Narrative  of  Travels  .  .  .  in 
Northern  and  Central  Africa,  1822-24,  by  Denham,  Clapperton.  and 
Oudney,  1828,  ii.  133.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON    JUAN.  475 

LXXI. 

It  is.     I  will  not  swear  that  black  is  white, 
But  I  suspect  in  fact  that  white  is  black, 

And  the  whole  matter  rests  upon  eye-sight : — 
Ask  a  blind  man,  the  best  judge.     You  '11  attack 

Perhaps  this  new  position — but  I  'm  right ; 
Or  if  I  'm  wrong,  I  '11  not  be  ta'en  aback  : — 

He  hath  no  morn  nor  night,  but  all  is  dark 

Within — and  what  seest  thou  ?    A  dubious  spark  ! 

LXXII. 
But  I  'm  relapsing  into  Metaphysics, 

That  labyrinth,  whose  clue  is  of  the  same 
Construction  as  your  cures  for  hectic  phthisics, 

Those  bright  moths  fluttering  round  a  dying  flame  : 
And  this  reflection  brings  me  to  plain  Physics, 

And  to  the  beauties  of  a  foreign  dame, 
Compared  with  those  of  our  pure  pearls  of  price, 
Those  polar  summers,  all  Sun,  and  some  ice.1- 1 

LXXIII. 
Or  say  they  are  like  virtuous  mermaids,  whose 

Beginnings  are  fair  faces,  ends  mere  fishes ; — 
Not  that  there  's  not  a  quantity  of  those 

Who  have  a  due  respect  for  their  own  wishes. 
Like  Russians  rushing  from  hot  baths  to  snows  2 

Are  they,  at  bottom  virtuous  even  when  vicious  : 
They  warm  into  a  scrape,  but  keep  of  course, 
As  a  reserve,  a  plunge  into  remorse. 

LXXIV. 
But  this  has  nought  to  do  with  their  outsides. 

I  said  that  Juan  did  not  think  them  pretty 
At  the  first  blush ;  for  a  fair  Briton  hides 

Half  her  attractions — probably  from  pity — 

i.  Above,  all  sunshine,  and,  below,  all  ice. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Compare  Prisoner  of  Chilian,  lines  82-85,  Poetical  Works,  1901, 
iv.  17.] 

2.  The  Russians,  as  is  well  known,  run  out  from  their  hot  baths  to 
plunge  into  the  Neva ;  a  pleasant  practical  antithesis,  which  it  seems 
does  them  no  harm. 


47 6  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xn. 

And  rather  calmly  into  the  heart  glides, 

Than  storms  it  as  a  foe  would  take  a  city  ; 
But  once  tfiere  (if  you  doubt  this,  prithee  try) j- 
She  keeps  it  for  you  like  a  true  ally. 

LXXV. 

She  cannot  step  as  does  an  Arab  barb,1 
Or  Andalusian  girl  from  mass  returning, 

Nor  wear  as  gracefully  as  Gauls  her  garb, 
Nor  in  her  eye  Ausonia's  glance  is  burning ; 

Her  voice,  though  sweet,  is  not  so  fit  to  warb- 
le those  bravuras  (which  I  still  am  learning 

To  like,  though  I  have  been  seven  years  in  Italy, 

And  have,  or  had,  an  ear  that  served  me  prettily)  ; — 

LXXVI. 
She  cannot  do  these  things,  nor  one  or  two 

Others,  in  that  off-hand  and  dashing  style 
Which  takes  so  much — to  give  the  Devil  his  due ; 

Nor  is  she  quite  so  ready  with  her  smile, 
Nor  settles  all  things  in  one  interview, 

(A  thing  approved  as  saving  time  and  toil)  ; — 
But  though  the  soil  may  give  you  time  and  trouble, 
Well  cultivated,  it  will  render  double. 

LXXVII. 
And  if  in  fact  she  takes  to  a  grande  passion, 

It  is  a  very  serious  thing  indeed  : 
Nine  times  in  ten  't  is  but  caprice  or  fashion, 

Coquetry,  or  a  wish  to  take  the  lead, 
The  pride  of  a  mere  child  with  a  new  sash  on, 

Or  wish  to  make  a  rival's  bosom  bleed  : 
But  the  tenth  instance  will  be  a  tornado, 
For  there  's  no  saying  what  they  will  or  may  do. 

LXXVIII. 
The  reason 's  obvious  :  if  there  's  an  eclat, 

They  lose  their  caste  at  once,  as  do  the  Farias ; 

i.  But  once  tliere  (few  have  felt  this  more  than  I). — [MS.  erased, .] 

i.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  II.  stanza  Iviii.  line  9,  Poetical 
Works,  1899,  ii.  59,  note  i.] 


CANTO  XII.]  DON    JUAN.  477 

And  when  the  delicacies  of  the  Law 

Have  filled  their  papers  with  their  comments  various, 
Society,  that  china  without  flaw, 

(The  Hypocrite  !)  will  banish  them  like  Marius, 
To  sit  amidst  the  ruins  of  their  guilt : l 
For  Fame  's  a  Carthage  not  so  soon  rebuilt. 

LXXIX. 
Perhaps  this  is  as  it  should  be ; — it  is 

A  comment  on  the  Gospel's  "  Sin  no  more, 
And  be  thy  sins  forgiven  : " — but  upon  this 

I  leave  the  Saints  to  settle  their  own  score. 
Abroad,  though  doubtless  they  do  much  amiss, 

An  erring  woman  finds  an  opener  door 
For  her  return  to  Virtue — as  they  call 
That  Lady,  who  should  be  at  home  to  all.'- 

LXXX. 
For  me,  I  leave  the  matter  where  I  find  it, 

Knowing  that  such  uneasy  virtue  leads 
People  some  ten  times  less  in  fact  to  mind  it, 

And  care  but  for  discoveries,  and  not  deeds. 
And  as  for  Chastity,  you  '11  never  bind  it 

By  all  the  laws  the  strictest  lawyer  pleads, 
But  aggravate  the  crime  you  have  not  prevented, 
By  rendering  desperate  those  who  had  else  repented. 

LXXXI. 
But  Juan  was  no  casuist,  nor  had  pondered 

Upon  the  moral  lessons  of  mankind : 
Besides,  he  had  not  seen  of  several  hundred 

A  lady  altogether  to  his  mind. 
A  little  blase — 't  is  not  to  be  wondered 

At,  that  his  heart  had  got  a  tougher  rind  : 
And  though  not  vainer  from  his  past  success, 
No  doubt  his  sensibilities  were  less. 

LXXXII. 

He  also  had  been  busy  seeing  sights — 
The  Parliament  and  all  the  other  houses ; 

i.   That  Lady  who  is  not  at  home  to  nil. — [MS.  erased.] 
i.  [See  Plutarch's  Caius  Marius,  Langhorne's  translation,  1838,  pp. 
304.  3°S-1 


47 8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xir. 

Had  sat  beneath  the  Gallery  at  nights, 

To  hear  debates  whose  thunder  roused  (not  rouses) 
The  World  to  gaze  upon  those  Northern  Lights, 

Which  flashed  as  far  as  where  the  musk-bull  browses ; l 
He  had  also  stood  at  times  behind  the  Throne — 
But  Grey 2  was  not  arrived,  and  Chatham  gone.3 

LXXXIII. 
He  saw,  however,  at  the  closing  session, 

That  noble  sight,  when  really  free  the  nation, 
A  King  in  constitutional  possession 

Of  such  a  Throne  as  is  the  proudest  station, 
Though  Despots  know  it  not — till  the  progression 

Of  Freedom  shall  complete  their  education. 
'T  is  not  mere  Splendour  makes  the  show  august 
To  eye  or  heart — it  is  the  People's  trust. 

LXXXIV. 
There,  too,  he  saw  (whate'er  he  may  be  now) 

A  Prince,  the  prince  of  Princes  at  the  time,4 
With  fascination  in  his  very  bow, 

And  full  of  promise,  as  the  spring  of  prime. 
Though  Royalty  was  written  on  his  brow, 

He  had  then  the  grace,  too,  rare  in  every  clime, 
Of  being,  without  alloy  of  fop  or  beau, 
A  finished  Gentleman  from  top  to  toe.5 

1 .  For  a  description  and  print  of  this  inhabitant  of  the  polar  region 
and  native  country  of  the  Aurorae  Boreales,  see  Sir  E.  Parry's  Voyage 
In  Search  of  a  North-  West  Passage,  [1821,  p.  257.     The  print  of  the 
Musk-Bull  is  drawn  and  engraved  by  W.  Westall,  A.R.A. ,  from  a 
sketch  by  Lieut.  Beechy.     He  is  a  "  fearful  wild-fowl ! "] 

2.  [Charles,  second  Earl  Grey,  born  March  13,  1764,  succeeded  to 
the  peerage  in  1807,  died  July  17,  1847.] 

3.  [William  Pitt,  first  Earl  of  Chatham,  born  November  15,  1708, 
died  May  n,  1778.] 

4.  [' '  His  person  was  undoubtedly  cast  by  Nature  in  an  elegant  and 
pleasing  mould,  of  a  just   height,  well-proportioned,   and  with  due 
regard  to  symmetry.  .  .  .    His  countenance  was  handsome  and  pre- 
possessing. .  .   .    His  manners  were  captivating,  noble,  and  dignified, 
yet  unaffectedly  condescending.  .  .  .    Homer,  as  well  as  Virgil,  was 
familiar  to  the  Prince  of  Wales ;  and  his  memory,  which  was  very 
tenacious,  enabled  him  to  cite  with  graceful  readiness  the  favourite 
passages  of  either  poet." — The  Historical  .  .  .  Memoirs  of  Sir  N.  W. 
Wraxall,  1884,  v.  353,  354.] 

5.  ["  Waving  myself,  let  me  talk  to  you  of  the  Prince  Regent.     He 
ordered  me  to  be  presented  to  him  at  a  ball ;  and  after  some  sayings 


CANTO  XII.]  DON   JUAN.  479 

LXXXV. 

And  Juan  was  received,  as  hath  been  said, 

Into  the  best  society  ;  and  there 
Occurred  what  often  happens,  I  'm  afraid, 

However  disciplined  and  debonnaire : — 
The  talent  and  good  humour  he  displayed, 

Besides  the  marked  distinction  of  his  air, 
Exposed  him,  as  was  natural,  to  temptation, 
Even  though  himself  avoided  the  occasion. 

LXXXVI. 
But  what,  and  where,  with  whom,  and  when,  and  why, 

Is  not  to  be  put  hastily  together ; 
And  as  my  object  is  Morality 

(Whatever  people  say),  I  don't  know  whether 
I  '11  leave  a  single  reader's  eyelid  dry, 

But  harrow  up  his  feelings  till  they  wither, 
And  hew  out  a  huge  monument  of  pathos, 
As  Philip's  son  proposed  to  do  with  Athos.1 

LXXXVII. 
Here  the  twelfth  canto  of  our  Introduction 

Ends.     When  the  body  of  the  Book  's  begun, 
You  '11  find  it  of  a  different  construction 

From  what  some  people  say  't  will  be  when  done  ; 

peculiarly  pleasing  from  royal  lips,  as  to  my  own  attempts,  he  talked 
to  me  of  you  and  your  immortalities  ;  he  preferred  you  to  every  other 
bard  past  and  present.  ...  He  spoke  alternately  of  Homer  and  your- 
self, and  seemed  well  acquainted  with  both.  .  .  .  [All]  this  was  conveyed 
in  language  which  would  only  suffer  by  my  attempting  to  transcribe  it, 
and  with  a  tone  and  taste  which  gave  me  a  very  high  idea  of  his 
abilities  and  accomplishments,  which  I  had  hitherto  considered  as 
confined  to  manners  certainly  superior  to  those  of  any  living  gentle- 
man."— Letter  to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  July  6,  1812,  Letters,  1898,  ii.  134.] 

i.  B.  iobr.e  7'>  1822.—  [MS.] 

A  sculptor  projected  to  hew  Mount  Athos  into  a  statue  of  Alexander, 
with  a  city  in  one  hand,  and,  I  believe,  a  river  in  his  pocket,  with 
various  other  similar  devices.  But  Alexander  's  gone,  and  Athos  re- 
mains, I  trust  ere  long  to  look  over  a  nation  of  freemen. 

[It  was  an  architect  named  Stasicrates  who  proposed  to  execute 
this  imperial  monument.  But  Alexander  bade  him  leave  Mount  Athos 
alone.  As  it  was,  it  might  be  christened  "  Xerxes,  his  Folly,"  and,  for 
his  part,  he  preferred  to  regard  Mount  Caucasus,  and  the  Himalayas, 
and  the  river  Don  as  the  symbolic  memorials  of  his  acts  and  deeds. 
— Plutarch's  Moralia,  "  De  Alexandri  Fortuna  et  Virtute,"  Oral.  II. 
cap.  ii.] 


480  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xn. 

The  plan  at  present  's  simply  in  concoction. 

I  can't  oblige  you,  reader,  to  read  on ; 
That 's  your  affair,  not  mine  :  a  real  spirit 
Should  neither  court  neglect,  nor  dread  to  bear  it. 

LXXXVIII. 
And  if  my  thunderbolt  not  always  rattles, 

Remember,  reader  !  you  have  had  before, 
The  worst  of  tempests  and  the  best  of  battles, 

That  e'er  were  brewed  from  elements  or  gore, 
Besides  the  most  sublime  of — Heaven  knows  what  else ; 

An  usurer  could  scarce  expect  much  more — 
But  my  best  canto — save  one  on  astronomy — 
Will  turn  upon  "  Political  Economy."  l 

LXXXIX. 

That  is  your  present  theme  for  popularity  : 

Now  that  the  public  hedge  hath  scarce  a  stake, 

It  grows  an  act  of  patriotic  charity, 
To  show  the  people  the  best  way  to  break. 

My  plan  (but  I,  if  but  for  singularity, 
Reserve  it)  will  be  very  sure  to  take. 

Meantime,  read  all  the  National-Debt  sinkers, 

And  tell  me  what  you  think  of  our  great  thinkers.2 

1.  [The  "  Political  Economy  "  Club  was  founded  in  April,  1821. 
James  Mill,   Thomas  Tooke,  and  David   Ricardo  were  among  the 
original   members,      See  Political  Economy  Clnb,   Revised   Report, 
1876,  p.  60.] 

2.  [Stanzas  Ixxxviii.  and  Ixxxix.  are  not  in  the  MS.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  481 


CANTO   THE   THIRTEENTH.1 


i. 

I  NOW  mean  to  be  serious ; — it  is  time, 

Since  Laughter  now-a-days  is  deemed  too  serious ; 
A  jest  at  Vice  by  Virtue  's  called  a  crime, 

And  critically  held  as  deleterious  : 
Besides,  the  sad  's  a  source  of  the  sublime, 

Although,  when  long,  a  little  apt  to  weary  us ; 
And  therefore  shall  my  lay  soar  high  and  solemn, 
As  an  old  temple  dwindled  to  a  column. 

n. 
The  Lady  Adeline  Amundeville 

('T  is  an  old  Norman  name,  and  to  be  found 
In  pedigrees,  by  those  who  wander  still 

Along  the  last  fields  of  that  Gothic  ground) 
Was  high-born,  wealthy  by  her  father's  will, 

And  beauteous,  even  where  beauties  most  abound, 
In  Britain — which,  of  course,  true  patriots  find 
The  goodliest  soil  of  Body  and  of  Mind. 

in. 

I  '11  not  gainsay  them ;  it  is  not  my  cue ; 

I  '11  leave  them  to  their  taste,  no  doubt  the  best ; 
An  eye  's  an  eye,  and  whether  black  or  blue, 

Is  no  great  matter,  so  't  is  in  request ; 
'T  is  nonsense  to  dispute  about  a  hue — 

The  kindest  may  be  taken  as  a  test. 

i.  Fy.  I2'.h  1823. 
VOL.  VI.  2    I 


482  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

The  fair  sex  should  be  always  fair ;  and  no  man, 
Till  thirty,  should  perceive  there  's  a  plain  woman. 

IV. 

And  after  that  serene  and  somewhat  dull 
Epoch,  that  awkward  corner  turned  for  days 

More  quiet,  when  our  moon  's  no  more  at  full, 
We  may  presume  to  criticise  or  praise ; 

Because  Indifference  begins  to  lull 

Our  passions,  and  we  walk  in  Wisdom's  ways  ; 

Also  because  the  figure  and  the  face 

Hint,  that 't  is  time  to  give  the  younger  place. 

v. 
I  know  that  some  would  fain  postpone  this  era, 

Reluctant  as  all  placemen  to  resign 
Their  post ;  but  theirs  is  merely  a  chimera, 

For  they  have  passed  Life's  equinoctial  line  : 
But  then  they  have  their  claret  and  Madeira, 

To  irrigate  the  dryness  of  decline ; 
And  County  meetings,  and  the  Parliament, 
And  debt — and  what  not,  for  their  solace  sent. 

VI. 

And  is  there  not  Religion,  and  Reform, 

Peace,  War,  the  taxes,  and  what 's  called  the  "Nation"  ? 
The  struggle  to  be  pilots  in  a  storm  ?  1 

The  landed  and  the  monied  speculation  ? 
The  joys  of  mutual  hate  to  keep  them  warm, 

Instead  of  Love,  that  mere  hallucination  ? 
Now  Hatred  is  by  far  the  longest  pleasure ; 
Men  love  in  haste,  but  they  detest  at  leisure. 

VII. 

Rough  Johnson,  the  great  moralist,  professed, 
Right  honestly,  "  he  liked  an  honest  hater ! "  2 — 

The  only  truth  that  yet  has  been  confessed 
Within  these  latest  thousand  years  or  later. 

1.  [The  allusion  is  to  the  refrain  of  Canning's  verses  on  Pitt,  "  The 
Pilot  that  weathered  the  storm."    Compare,  too,  "The  daring  pilot  in 
extremity"  (i.e.  the  Earl  of  Shaftesbury),  who  "sought  the  storms" 
(Dryden's  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  lines  159-161).] 

2.  [Johnson  loved  "dear,  dear  Bathurst,"  because  he  was  "a  very 
good  hater." — See  Boswell's  Johnson,  1876,  p.  78  (Croker's/<w/«0fc).] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON    JUAN.  483 

Perhaps  the  fine  old  fellow  spoke  in  jest : — 
For  my  part,  I  am  but  a  mere  spectator, 
And  gaze  where'er  the  palace  or  the  hovel  is, 
Much  in  the  mode  of  Goethe's  Mephistopheles  ; 

VIII. 

But  neither  love  nor  hate  in  much  excess ; 

Though  't  was  not  once  so.     If  I  sneer  sometimes, 
It  is  because  I  cannot  well  do  less, 

And  now  and  then  it  also  suits  my  rhymes. 
I  should  be  very  willing  to  redress 

Men's  wrongs,  and  rather  check  than  punish  crimes, 
Had  not  Cervantes,  in  that  too  true  tale 
Of  Quixote,  shown  how  all  such  efforts  fail. 

IX.1 

Of  all  tales  't  is  the  saddest — and  more  sad, 
Because  it  makes  us  smile :  his  hero  's  right, 

And  still  pursues  the  right ; — to  curb  the  bad 
His  only  object,  and  'gainst  odds  to  fight 

His  guerdon  :  't  is  his  virtue  makes  him  mad  ! 
But  his  adventures  form  a  sorry  sight  ;— 

A  sorrier  still  is  the  great  moral  taught 

By  that  real  Epic  unto  all  who  have  thought.1 

x. 
Redressing  injury,  revenging  wrong, 

To  aid  the  damsel  and  destroy  the  caitiff; 
Opposing  singly  the  united  strong, 

From  foreign  yoke  to  free  the  helpless  native : — 
Alas  !  must  noblest  views,  like  an  old  song, 

Be  for  mere  Fancy's  sport  a  theme  creative, 
A  jest,  a  riddle,  Fame  through  thin  and  thick  sought ! 
And  Socrates  himself  but  Wisdom's  Quixote  ? 

xr. 

Cervantes  smiled  Spain's  chivalry  away ; 
A  single  laugh  demolished  the  right  arm 

i.  By  ttiat great  Epic .—  [MS.] 

i.  [So,  too,  Charles  Kingsley,  in  Westward  Ho !  ii.  299,  300,  calls 
Don  Quixote  "the  saddest  of  books  in  spite  of  all  its  wit." — Notes  and 
Queries,  Second  Series,  iii.  124.] 


484  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

Of  his  own  country ; — seldom  since  that  day 

Has  Spain  had  heroes.     While  Romance  could  charm, 

The  World  gave  ground  before  her  bright  array ; 
And  therefore  have  his  volumes  done  such  harm, 

That  all  their  glory,  as  a  composition, 

Was  dearly  purchased  by  his  land's  perdition. 

XII. 

I  'm  "  at  my  old  lunes  "  l — digression,  and  forget 

The  Lady  Adeline  Amundeville ; 
The  fair  most  fatal  Juan  ever  met, 

Although  she  was  not  evil  nor  meant  ill ; 
But  Destiny  and  Passion  spread  the  net 

(Fate  is  a  good  excuse  for  our  own  will), 
And  caught  them ; — what  do  they  not  catch,  methinks  ? 
But  I  'm  not  CEdipus,  and  Life  's  a  Sphinx. 

XIII. 

I  tell  the  tale  as  it  is  told,  nor  dare 

To  venture  a  solution  :  "  Davus  sum  !  "  2 

And  now  I  will  proceed  upon  the  pair. 

Sweet  Adeline,  amidst  the  gay  World's  hum, 

Was  the  Queen-Bee,  the  glass  of  all  that 's  fair ; 

Whose  charms  made  all  men  speak,  and  women  dumb. 

The  last 's  a  miracle,  and  such  was  reckoned, 

And  since  that  time  there  has  not  been  a  second. 

XIV. 

Chaste  was  she,  to  Detraction's  desperation, 
And  wedded  unto  one  she  had  loved  well' — 

A  man  known  in  the  councils  of  the  Nation, 
Cool,  and  quite  English,  imperturbable, 

Though  apt  to  act  with  fire  upon  occasion, 

Proud  of  himself  and  her :  the  World  could  tell 

Nought  against  either,  and  both  seemed  secure — 

She  in  her  virtue,  he  in  his  hauteur. 

1.  ["  Your  husband  is  in  his  old  lunes  again." 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  act  iv.  sc.  2,  lines  16,  17.] 

2.  ["  Davus  sum,  non  CEdipus." 

Terence,  Andria,  act  i.  sc.  2,  line  23.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON    JUAN.  485 

XV. 

It  chanced  some  diplomatical  relations, 

Arising  out  of  business,  often  brought 
Himself  and  Juan  in  their  mutual  stations 

Into  close  contact.     Though  reserved,  nor  caught 
By  specious  seeming,  Juan's  youth,  and  patience, 

And  talent,  on  his  haughty  spirit  wrought, 
And  formed  a  basis  of  esteem,  which  ends 
In  making  men  what  Courtesy  calls  friends. 

xvr. 
And  thus  Lord  Henry,  who  was  cautious  as 

Reserve  and  Pride  could  make  him,  and  full  slow 
In  judging  men — when  once  his  judgment  was 

Determined,  right  or  wrong,  on  friend  or  foe, 
Had  all  the  pertinacity  Pride  has, 

Which  knows  no  ebb  to  its  imperious  flow, 
And  loves  or  hates,  disdaining  to  be  guided, 
Because  its  own  good  pleasure  hath  decided. 

XVII. 

His  friendships,  therefore,  and  no  less  aversions, 
Though  oft  well  founded,  which  confirmed  but  more 

His  prepossessions,  like  the  laws  of  Persians 

And  Medes,  would  ne'er  revoke  what  went  before. 

His  feelings  had  not  those  strange  fits,  like  tertians, 
Of  common  likings,  which  make  some  deplore 

What  they  should  laugh  at — the  mere  ague  still 

Of  men's  regard,  the  fever  or  the  chill. 

XVIII. 

"  'T  is  not  in  mortals  to  command  success  :  " l 
But  do  you  more,  Sempronius — don't  deserve  it, 

And  take  my  word,  you  won't  have  any  less. 
Be  wary,  watch  the  time,  and  always  serve  it ; 

Give  gently  way,  when  there  's  too  great  a  press ; 
And  for  your  conscience,  only  learn  to  nerve  it ; 

For,  like  a  racer,  or  a  boxer  training, 

'T  will  make,  if  proved,  vast  efforts  without  paining. 

i.      ["  'T  is  not  in  mortals  to  command  success, 

But  we'll  do  more,  Sempronius — we'll  deserve  it." 

Addison's  Cato,  act  i.  sc.  2,  ed.  1777,  ii.  77.] 


486  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xm. 

XIX. 

Lord  Henry  also  liked  to  be  superior, 
As  most  men  do,  the  little  or  the  great ; 

The  very  lowest  find  out  an  inferior, 

At  least  they  think  so,  to  exert  their  state 

Upon :  for  there  are  very  few  things  wearier 
Than  solitary  Pride's  oppressive  weight, 

Which  mortals  generously  would  divide, 

By  bidding  others  carry  while  they  ride. 

xx. 

In  birth,  in  rank,  in  fortune  likewise  equal, 
O'er  Juan  he  could  no  distinction  claim ; 

In  years  he  had  the  advantage  of  Time's  sequel ; 
And,  as  he  thought,  in  country  much  the  same — 

Because  bold  Britons  have  a  tongue  and  free  quill, 
At  which  all  modern  nations  vainly  aim ; 

And  the  Lord  Henry  was  a  great  debater, 

So  that  few  Members  kept  the  House  up  later. 

XXI. 

These  were  advantages :  and  then  he  thought — 
It  was  his  foible,  but  by  no  means  sinister — 

That  few  or  none  more  than  himself  had  caught 
Court  mysteries,  having  been  himself  a  minister  : 

He  liked  to  teach  that  which  he  had  been  taught, 
And  greatly  shone  whenever  there  had  been  a  stir ; 

And  reconciled  all  qualities  which  grace  man, 

Always  a  patriot — and,  sometimes,  a  placeman. 

XXII. 

He  liked  the  gentle  Spaniard  for  his  gravity ; 

He  almost  honoured  him  for  his  docility  ; 
Because,  though  young,  he  acquiesced  with  suavity, 

Or  contradicted  but  with  proud  humility. 
He  knew  the  World,  and  would  not  see  depravity 

In  faults  which  sometimes  show  the  soil's  fertility, 
If  that  the  weeds  o'erlive  not  the  first  crop — • 
For  then  they  are  very  difficult  to  stop. 

XXIII. 

And  then  he  talked  with  him  about  Madrid, 
Constantinople,  and  such  distant  places ; 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  487 

Where  people  always  did  as  they  were  bid, 

Or  did  what  they  should  not  with  foreign  graces. 

Of  coursers  also  spake  they  :  Henry  rid 

Well,  like  most  Englishmen,  and  loved  the  races ; 

And  Juan,  like  a  true-born  Andalusian, 

Could  back l  a  horse,  as  Despots  ride  a  Russian. 

XXIV. 

And  thus  acquaintance  grew,  at  noble  routs, 

And  diplomatic  dinners,  or  at  other — 
For  Juan  stood  well  both  with  Ins  and  Outs, 

As  in  freemasonry  a  higher  brother. 
Upon  his  talent  Henry  had  no  doubts ; 

His  manner  showed  him  sprung  from  a  high  mother, 
And  all  men  like  to  show  their  hospitality 
To  him  whose  breeding  matches  with  his  quality. 

xxv. 
At  Blank-Blank  Square ; — for  we  will  break  no  squares  2 

By  naming  streets  :  since  men  are  so  censorious, 
And  apt  to  sow  an  author's  wheat  with  tares, 

Reaping  allusions  private  and  inglorious, 
Where  none  were  dreamt  of,  unto  Love's  affairs, 

Which  were,  or  are,  or  are  to  be  notorious, 
That  therefore  do  I  previously  declare, 
Lord  Henry's  mansion  was  in  Blank-Blank  Square. 

XXVI. 

Also  there  bin  3  another  pious  reason 

For  making  squares  and  streets  anonymous ; 

1.  [Compare — 

"  The  colt  that's  backed  and  burthened  being  young." 

Venvs  and  Adonis,  Ixx.  line  5.] 

2.  [To  "break  square,"  or  "squares,"  is  to  interrupt  the  regular 
order,  as  in  the  proverbial  phrase,  "  It  breaks  no  squares,"  i.e.  does  no 
harm — does  not  matter.     Compare  Sterne,   Tristram  Shandy  (1802), 
ii.  v.  152,  "  This  fault  in  Trim  broke  no  squares  with  them"  (N.  Engl. 
Diet.,  art.  "  Break,"  No.  46).     The  origin  of  the  phrase  is  uncertain, 
but  it  may,  perhaps,  refer  to  military  tactics.     Shakespeare  (Henry  V., 
act  iv.  sc.  2,  line  28)  speaks  of  "  squares  of  battle."] 

3.  "  With  every  thing  that  pretty  bin, 

My  lady  sweet,  arise." 

Cymbeline,  act  ii.  sc.  3,  lines,  25,  26. 

[So  Warburton  and  Hanmer.    The  folio  reads  "  that  pretty  is."    See 
Knight's  Shakespeare,  Pictorial  Edition,  Tragedies,  i.  203.] 


488  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

Which  is,  that  there  is  scarce  a  single  season 
Which  doth  not  shake  some  very  splendid  house 

With  some  slight  heart-quake  of  domestic  treason — 
A  topic  Scandal  doth  delight  to  rouse  : 

Such  I  might  stumble  over  unawares, 

Unless  I  knew  the  very  chastest  squares. 

XXVII. 

'T  is  true,  I  might  have  chosen  Piccadilly,1 
A  place  where  peccadillos  are  unknown ; 

But  I  have  motives,  whether  wise  or  silly, 
For  letting  that  pure  sanctuary  alone. 

Therefore  I  name  not  square,  street,  place,  until  I 
Find  one  where  nothing  naughty  can  be  shown, 

A  vestal  shrine  of  Innocence  of  Heart : 

Such  are but  I  have  lost  the  London  Chart. 

XXVIII. 

At  Henry's  mansion  then,  in  Blank-Blank  Square, 

Was  Juan  a  recherche,  welcome  guest, 
As  many  other  noble  scions  were ; 

And  some  who  had  but  Talent  for  their  crest ; 
Or  Wealth,  which  is  a  passport  everywhere ; 

Or  even  mere  Fashion,  which  indeed  's  the  best 
Recommendation ;  and  to  be  well  dressed 
Will  very  often  supersede  the  rest. 

XXIX. 

And  since  "  there  's  safety  in  a  multitude 

Of  counsellors,"  as  Solomon  has  said, 
Or  some  one  for  him,  in  some  sage,  grave  mood ; — 

Indeed  we  see  the  daily  proof  displayed 
In  Senates,  at  the  Bar,  in  wordy  feud, 

Where'er  collective  wisdom  can  parade, 
Which  is  the  only  cause  that  we  can  guess 
Of  Britain's  present  wealth  and  happiness ; — 

XXX. 

But  as  "  there  's  safety  "  grafted  in  the  number 
"  Of  counsellors,"  for  men, — thus  for  the  sex 

i.  [The  house  which  Byron  occupied,  1815-1816,  No.  13,  Piccadilly 
Terrace,  was  the  property  of  Elizabeth,  Duchess  of  Devonshire.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON    JUAN.  489 

A  large  acquaintance  lets  not  Virtue  slumber ; 

Or  should  it  shake,  the  choice  will  more  perplex — 
Variety  itself  will  more  encumber.1- 

'Midst  many  rocks  we  guard  more  against  wrecks — 
And  thus  with  women  :  howsoe'er  it  shocks  some's 
Self-love,  there  's  safety  in  a  crowd  of  coxcombs. 

XXXI. 

But  Adeline  had  not  the  least  occasion 

For  such  a  shield,  which  leaves  but  little  merit 

To  Virtue  proper,  or  good  education. 

Her  chief  resource  was  in  her  own  high  spirit, 

Which  judged  Mankind  at  their  due  estimation  ; 
And  for  coquetry,  she  disdained  to  wear  it — 

Secure  of  admiration  :  its  impression 

Was  faint — as  of  an  every-day  possession. 

xxxn. 
To  all  she  was  polite  without  parade ; 

To  some  she  showed  attention  of  that  kind 
Which  flatters,  but  is  flattery  conveyed 

In  such  a  sort  as  cannot  leave  behind 
A  trace  unworthy  either  wife  or  maid  ;— 

A  gentle,  genial  courtesy  of  mind,"' 
To  those  who  were,  or  passed  for  meritorious, 
Just  to  console  sad  Glory  for  being  glorious  ; 

XXXIII. 

Which  is  in  all  respects,  save  now  and  then, 
A  dull  and  desolate  appendage.     Gaze 

Upon  the  shades  of  those  distinguished  men 
Who  were  or  are  the  puppet-shows  of  praise, 

The  praise  of  persecution.     Gaze  again 

On  the  most  favoured ;  and  amidst  the  blaze 

Of  sunset  halos  o'er  the  laurel-browed, 

What  can  ye  recognise  ? — a  gilded  cloud. 

xxxiv. 
There  also  was  of  course  in  Adeline 

That  calm  patrician  polish  in  the  address, 

i.   The  slightest  obstacle  which  may  encumber 

The  path  downhill  is  something  grand. — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.  Not  even  in  fools  ivho  howsoever  blind. — [MS.  erased.] 


49°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xm. 

Which  ne'er  can  pass  the  equinoctial  line 
Of  anything  which  Nature  would  express ; 

Just  as  a  Mandarin  finds  nothing  fine, — 
At  least  his  manner  suffers  not  to  guess, 

That  anything  he  views  can  greatly  please : 

Perhaps  we  have  borrowed  this  from  the  Chinese —  '• 

xxxv. 
Perhaps  from  Horace:  his  " Nil admirari" 

Was  what  he  called  the  "  Art  of  Happiness  " — 
An  art  on  which  the  artists  greatly  vary, 

And  have  not  yet  attained  to  much  success. 
However,  't  is  expedient  to  be  wary  : 

Indifference,  certes,  don't  produce  distress ; 
And  rash  Enthusiasm  in  good  society 
Were  nothing  but  a  moral  inebriety. 

xxxvi. 
But  Adeline  was  not  indifferent :  for 

(Now  for  a  common-place  !)  beneath  the  snow, 
As  a  Volcano  holds  the  lava  more 

Within — et  catera.     Shall  I  go  on  ? — No  ! 
I  hate  to  hunt  down  a  tired  metaphor, 

So  let  the  often-used  Volcano  go. 
Poor  thing  !     How  frequently,  by  me  and  others, 
It  hath  been  stirred  up  till  its  smoke  quite  smothers  ! 

XXXVII. 

I  '11  have  another  figure  in  a  trice  : — 
What  say  you  to  a  bottle  of  champagne  ? 

Frozen  into  a  very  vinous  ice, 

Which  leaves  few  drops  of  that  immortal  rain, 

Yet  in  the  very  centre,  past  all  price, 
About  a  liquid  glassful  will  remain ; 

And  this  is  stronger  than  the  strongest  grape 

Could  e'er  express  in  its  expanded  shape  : 

xxxvni. 

'T  is  the  whole  spirit  brought  to  a  quintessence ; 
And  thus  the  chilliest  aspects  may  concentre 

i.    That  anything  is  new  to  a  Chinese  ; 

And  such  is  Europe's  fashionable  ease. — [MS.  erased.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON    JUAN.  4QI 

A  hidden  nectar  under  a  cold  presence.' 

And  such  are  many — though  I  only  meant  her 

From  whom  I  now  deduce  these  moral  lessons, 
On  which  the  Muse  has  always  sought  to  enter. 

And  your  cold  people  are  beyond  all  price, 

When  once  you've  broken  their  confounded  ice. 

xxxix. 
But  after  all  they  are  a  North- West  Passage 

Unto  the  glowing  India  of  the  soul ; 
And  as  the  good  ships  sent  upon  that  message 

Have  not  exactly  ascertained  the  Pole 
(Though  Parry's  efforts  look  a  lucky  presage),"- 

Thus  gentlemen  may  run  upon  a  shoal ; 
For  if  the  Pole  's  not  open,  but  all  frost 
(A  chance  still),  't  is  a  voyage  or  vessel  lost. 

XL. 
And  young  beginners  may  as  well  commence 

With  quiet  cruising  o'er  the  ocean,  Woman ; 
While  those  who  are  not  beginners  should  have  sense 

Enough  to  make  for  port,  ere  Time  shall  summon 
With  his  grey  signal-flag ;  and  the  past  tense, 

The  dreary  Fuimns  of  all  things  human, 
Must  be  declined,  while  Life's  thin  thread  's  spun  out 
Between  the  gaping  heir  and  gnawing  gout. 

XLI. 
But  Heaven  must  be  diverted ;  its  diversion 

Is  sometimes  truculent — but  never  mind : 
The  World  upon  the  whole  is  worth  the  assertion 

(If  but  for  comfort)  that  all  things  are  kind : 
And  that  same  devilish  doctrine  of  the  Persian,1 

Of  the  "  Two  Principles,"  but  leaves  behind 
As  many  doubts  as  any  other  doctrine 
Has  ever  puzzled  Faith  withal,  or  yoked  her  in. 

i.  A  hidden  wine  beneath  an  icy  presence. — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.  Though  this  we  hope  has  been  reserved  for  this  age. — [MS.  erased.'] 

i.  ["For  the  creed  of  Zoroaster,"  see  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Letters  on 
Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  1830,  pp.  87,  88.  (See,  too,  Cain,  act  ii. 
sc.  2,  line  404,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  254,  note  2.)] 


DON    JUAN. 


[CANTO  xin. 


XLII. 

The  English  winter — ending  in  July, 

To  recommence  in  August — now  was  done. 

'T  is  the  postilion's  paradise  :  wheels  fly ; 
On  roads,  East,  South,  North,  West,  there  is  a  run. 

But  for  post-horses  who  finds  sympathy  ? 
Man's  pity  's  for  himself,  or  for  his  son, 

Always  premising  that  said  son  at  college 

Has  not  contracted  much  more  debt  than  knowledge. 

XLIII. 

The  London  winter  's  ended  in  July — 

Sometimes  a  little  later.     I  don't  err 
In  this :  whatever  other  blunders  lie 

Upon  my  shoulders,  here  I  must  aver 
My  Muse  a  glass  of  Weatherology  ; 

For  Parliament  is  our  barometer : 
Let  Radicals  its  other  acts  attack, 
Its  sessions  form  our  only  almanack. 

XLIV. 

When  its  quicksilver  's  down  at  zero, — lo  ! 

Coach,  chariot,  luggage,  baggage,  equipage  ! 
Wheels  whirl  from  Carlton  Palace  to  Soho, 

And  happiest  they  who  horses  can  engage ; 
The  turnpikes  glow  with  dust ;  and  Rotten  Row 

Sleeps  from  the  chivalry  of  this  bright  age ; 
And  tradesmen,  with  long  bills  and  longer  faces, 
Sigh — as  the  postboys  fasten  on  the  traces. 

XLV. 

They  and  their  bills,  "  Arcadians  both,"  *  are  left 
To  the  Greek  Kalends  of  another  session. 

Alas  !  to  them  of  ready  cash  bereft, 

What  hope  remains  ?    Of  hope  the  full  possession, 

Or  generous  draft,  conceded  as  a  gift, 

At  a  long  date — till  they  can  get  a  fresh  one — 

Hawked  about  at  a  discount,  small  or  large ; 

Also  the  solace  of  an  overcharge. 

i.  "Arcades  ambo."    [Virgil,  Bucol.,  Eel.  vii.  4.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON    JUAN.  493 

XLVI. 

But  these  are  trifles.     Downward  flies  my  Lord, 
Nodding  beside  my  Lady  in  his  carriage. 

Away  !  away  !    "  Fresh  horses  ! "  are  the  word, 
And  changed  as  quickly  as  hearts  after  marriage ; 

The  obsequious  landlord  hath  the  change  restored  ; 
The  postboys  have  no  reason  to  disparage 

Their  fee ;  but  ere  the  watered  wheels  may  hiss  hence, 

The  ostler  pleads  too  for  a  reminiscence. 

XLVI  I. 

'T  is  granted ;  and  the  valet  mounts  the  dickey — 
That  gentleman  of  Lords  and  Gentlemen ; 

Also  my  Lady's  gentlewoman,  tricky, 

Tricked  out,  but  modest  more  than  poet's  pen 

Can  paint, — "  Co  si  viaggino  i  Ricchi  /  "  L 
(Excuse  a  foreign  slipslop  now  and  then, 

If  but  to  show  I  've  travelled :  and  what 's  Travel, 

Unless  it  teaches  one  to  quote  and  cavil  ?) 

XLVIII. 

The  London  winter  and  the  country  summer 
Were  well  nigh  over.     'T  is  perhaps  a  pity, 

When  Nature  wears  the  gown  that  doth  become  her, 
To  lose  those  best  months  in  a  sweaty  city, 

And  wait  until  the  nightingale  grows  dumber, 
Listening  debates  not  very  wise  or  witty, 

Ere  patriots  their  true  country  can  remember ; — 

But  there  's  no  shooting  (save  grouse)  till  September. 

XLIX. 
I  've  done  with  my  tirade.     The  World  was  gone ; 

The  twice  two  thousand,  for  whom  Earth  was  made, 
Were  vanished  to  be  what  they  call  alone — 

That  is,  with  thirty  servants  for  parade, 
As  many  guests,  or  more ;  before  whom  groan 

As  many  covers,  duly,  daily  laid. 
Let  none  accuse  old  England's  hospitality — 
Its  quantity  is  but  condensed  to  quality. 

i.  [So  travel  the  rich.] 


494  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

L. 
Lord  Henry  and  the  Lady  Adeline 

Departed  like  the  rest  of  their  compeers, 
The  peerage,  to  a  mansion  very  fine ; 

The  Gothic  Babel  of  a  thousand  years. 
None  than  themselves  could  boast  a  longer  line, 

Where  Time  through  heroes  and  through  beauties  steers; 
And  oaks  as  olden  as  their  pedigree 
Told  of  their  Sires — a  tomb  in  every  tree. 

LI. 

A  paragraph  in  every  paper  told 

Of  their  departure — such  is  modern  fame : 

'T  is  pity  that  it  takes  no  further  hold 

Than  an  advertisement,  or  much  the  same ; 

When,  ere  the  ink  be  dry,  the  sound  grows  cold. 
The  Morning  Post  was  foremost  to  proclaim — 

"  Departure,  for  his  country  seat,  to-day, 

Lord  H.  Amundeville  and  Lady  A. 

LII. 
"We  understand  the  splendid  host  intends1- 

To  entertain,  this  autumn,  a  select 
And  numerous  party  of  his  noble  friends ; 

'Midst  whom  we  have  heard,  from  sources  quite  correct, 
The  Duke  of  D the  shooting  season  spends, 

With  many  more  by  rank  and  fashion  decked ; 
Also  a  foreigner  of  high  condition, 
The  envoy  of  the  secret  Russian  mission." 

LIII. 
And  thus  we  see — who  doubts  the  Morning  Post  ? 

(Whose  articles  are  like  the  "  Thirty-nine," 
Which  those  most  swear  to  who  believe  them  most) — 

Our  gay  Russ  Spaniard  was  ordained  to  shine, 
Decked  by  the  rays  reflected  from  his  host, 

With  those  who,  Pope  says,  "  greatly  daring  dine."- 
'T  is  odd,  but  true, — last  war  the  News  abounded 
More  with  these  dinners  than  the  killed  or  wounded ; — 

i.  the  noble  host  intends. — \MS.  erased.] 

i.  ["  Judicious  drank,  and  greatly-daring  dined." 

Pope,  Dunciadt  iv.  318.] 


CANTO  XIII.] 


DON   JUAN. 


495 


LIV. 

As  thus  :  "  On  Thursday  there  was  a  grand  dinner ; 

Present,  Lords  A.  B.  C." — Earls,  dukes,  by  name 
Announced  with  no  less  pomp  than  Victory's  winner : 

Then  underneath,  and  in  the  very  same 
Column :  date,  "  Falmouth.     There  has  lately  been  here 

The  Slap-dash  regiment,  so  well  known  to  Fame, 
Whose  loss  in  the  late  action  we  regret : 
The  vacancies  are  rilled  up — see  Gazette." 

LV. 

To  Norman  Abbey  *  whirled  the  noble  pair, — 
An  old,  old  Monastery  once,  and  now 

i.  [Byron's  description  of  the  place  of  his  inheritance,  which  was  to 
know  him  no  more,  is  sketched  from  memory,  but  it  unites  the  charm 
of  a  picture  with  the  accuracy  of  a  ground-plan.  Eight  years  had  gone 
by  since  he  had  looked  his  last  on  "  venerable  arch  "  and  "  lucid  lake" 
(see  "  Epistle  to  Augusta,"  stanza  viii.  lines  7,  8),  but  he  had  not  for- 
gotten, he  could  not  forget,  that  enchanted  and  enchanting  scene. 

Newstead  Abbey  or  Priory  was  founded  by  Henry  II.,  by  way  of 
deodand  or  expiation  for  the  murder  of  Thomas  Becket.  Lands 
which  bordered  the  valley  of  the  Leen,  and  which  had  formed  part  of 
Sherwood  Forest,  were  assigned  for  the  use  and  endowment  of  a 
chapter  of  "black  canons  regular  of  the  order  of  St.  Augustine,"  and 
on  a  site,  by  the  river-side  to  the  south  of  the  forest  uplands  (stanza  Iv. 
lines  5-8)  the  new  stede,  or  place,  or  station,  arose.  It  was  a  "  Norman 
Abbey"  (stanza  Iv.  line  i)  which  the  Black  Canons  dedicated  to  Our 
Lady,  and,  here  and  there,  in  the  cloisters,  traces  of  Norman  architec- 
ture remain,  but  the  enlargement  and  completion  of  the  monastery  was 
carried  out  in  successive  stages  and  "transition  periods,"  in  a  style 
or  styles  which,  perhaps,  more  by  hap  than  by  cunning,  Byron  rightly 
named  "  mixed  Gothic  "  (stanza  Iv.  line  4).  To  work  their  mills,  and 
perhaps  to  drain  the  marshy  valley,  the  monks  dammed  the  Leen  and 
excavated  a  chain  of  lakes — the  largest  to  the  north-west,  Byron's 
' '  lucid  lake ;  "  a  second  to  the  south  of  the  Abbey  ;  and  a  third,  now  sur- 
rounded with  woods,  and  overlooked  by  the  "  wicked  lord's  "  "  ragged 
rock  "  below  the  Abbey,  half  a  mile  to  the  south-east.  The  "cascade," 
which  flows  over  and  through  a  stone-work  sluice,  and  forms  a  rocky 
water-fall,  issues  from  the  upper  lake,  and  is  in  full  view  of  the  west 
front  of  the  Abbey.  Almost  at  right  angles  to  these  lakes  are  three 
ponds :  the  Forest  Pond  to  the  north  of  the  stone  wall,  which  divides 
the  garden  from  the  forest;  the  square  "  Eagle"  Pond  in  the  Monks' 
Garden  ;  and  the  narrow  stew-pond,  bordered  on  either  side  with  over- 
hanging yews,  which  drains  into  the  second  or  Garden  Lake.  Byron 
does  not  enlarge  on  this  double  chain  of  lakes  and  ponds,  and,  perhaps 
for  the  sake  of  pictorial  unity,  converts  the  second  (if  a  second  then 
existed)  and  third  lakes  into  a  river. 

The  Abbey,  which,  at  the  dissolution  of  monasteries  in  1539,  was 
handed  over  by  Henry  VIII.  to  Sir  John  Byron,  "steward  and  warden 
of  the  forest  of  Shirewood,"  was  converted,  here  and  there,  more  or  less, 


496  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

Still  older  mansion  — of  a  rich  and  rare 
Mixed  Gothic,  such  as  artists  all  allow 

into  a  baronial  "mansion"  (stanza  Ixvi.).  It  is,  roughly  speaking,  a 
square  block  of  buildings,  flanking  the  sides  of  a  grassy  quadrangle. 
Surrounding  the  quadrangle  are  two-storied  cloisters,  and  in  the  centre 
a  "Gothic  fountain"  (stanza  Ixv.  line  i)  of  composite  workmanship. 
The  upper  portion  of  the  stonework  is  hexagonal,  and  is  ornamented 
with  a  double  row  of  gargoyles  (all  "monsters"  and  no  "saints," 
recalling,  perhaps  identical  with,  the  "seven  deadly  sins"  gargoyles, 
still  in  situ  in  the  quadrangle  of  Magdalen  College,  Oxford) ;  the 
lower  half,  which  belongs  to  the  seventeenth  or  eighteenth  century,  is 
hollowed  into  niches  of  a  Roman  or  classical  design.  (In  Byron's  time 
the  fountain  stood  in  a  courtyard  in  front  of  the  Abbey,  but  before  he 
composed  this  canto  it  had  been  restored  by  Colonel  Wildman  to  its 
original  place  within  the  quadrangle.  Byron  was  acquainted  with  the 
change,  and  writes  accordingly.)  When  the  Byrons  took  possession 
of  the  Abbey  the  upper  stories  of  the  cloisters  were  converted,  on  three 
sides  of  the  quadrangle,  into  galleries,  and  on  the  fourth,  the  north 
side,  into  a  library.  Abutting  on  the  cloisters  are  the  monastic  build- 
ings proper,  in  part  transformed,  but  with  "much  of  the  monastic" 
preserved.  On  the  west,  the  front  of  the  Abbey,  the  ground  floor 
consists  of  the  entrance  hall  and  Monks'  Parlour,  and,  above,  the 
Guests'  Refectory  or  Banqueting-hall,  and  the  Prior's  Parlour.  On 
the  south,  the  Xenodochium  or  Guesten  Hall,  and,  above,  the  Monks' 
Refectory,  or  Grand  Drawing-room ;  on  the  south  and  east,  on  the 
ground  floor,  the  Prior's  Lodgings,  the  Chapter  House  ("the  exquisite 
small  chapel,"  stanza  Ixvi.  line  5),  the  "slype"  or  passage  between 
church  and  Chapter  House  ;  and  in  the  upper  story,  the  state  bedrooms, 
named  after  the  kings,  Edward  III.,  Henry  VII.,  etc.,  who,  by  the 
terms  of  the  grant  of  land  to  the  Prior  and  Canons,  were  entitled  to 
free  quarters  in  the  Abbey.  During  Byron's  brief  tenure  of  New- 
stead,  and  for  long  years  before,  these  "huge  halls,  long  galleries, 
and  spacious  chambers"  (stanza  Ixxvii.  line  i)  were  half  dismantled, 
and  in  a  more  or  less  ruinous  condition.  A  few  pictures  remained  on 
the  walls  of  the  Great  Drawing-room,  of  the  Prior's  Parlour,  and  in 
the  apartments  of  the  south-east  wing  or  annexe,  which  dates  from  the 
seventeenth  century  (see  the  account  of  a  visit  to  Newstead  in  1812,  in 
Beauties  of  England  and  Wales,  1813,  xii.  401-405).  There  are  and 
were  portraits,  by  Lely  (stanza  Ixviii.  line  7),  of  a  Lady  Byron,  of  Fanny 
Jennings,  Duchess  of  Tyrconnel,  "loveliness  personified,"  of  Mrs. 
Hughes,  and  of  Nell  Gwynne  ;  by  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller,  of  William  and 
Mary  ;  by  unnamed  artists,  of  George  I.  and  George  II.  ;  and  by 
Ramsay,  of  George  III.  There  are  portraits  of  a  fat  Prior,  William 
Sandall,  with  a  jewelled  reliquary ;  of  "  Sir  John  the  Little  with  the 
Great  Beard,"  who  ruled  in  the  Prior's  stead  ;  and  there  is  the  portrait, 
a  votive  tablet  of  penitence  and  remorse,  "  of  that  Lord  Arundel  Who 
struck  in  heat  the  child  he  loved  so  well "  (see  ' '  A  Picture  at  New- 
stead,"  by  Matthew  Arnold,  Poetical  Works,  1890,  p.  177) ;  but  of 
portraits  of  judges  or  bishops,  or  of  pictures  by  old  masters,  there  is 
neither  trace  nor  record. 

But  the  characteristic  feature  of  Newstead  Abbey,  so  familiar  that 
description  seems  unnecessary,  and,  yet,  never  quite  accurately  de- 
scribed, is  the  west  front  of  the  Priory  Church,  which  is  in  line  with 
the  west  front  of  the  Abbey.  "  Half  apart,"  the  southern  portion  of 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  497 

Few  specimens  yet  left  us  can  compare 
Withal--:  it  lies,  perhaps,  a  little  low, 
Because  the  monks  preferred  a  hill  behind, 
To  shelter  their  devotion  from  the  wind. 

LVI. 

It  stood  embosomed  in  a  happy  valley, 

Crowned  by  high  woodlands,  where  the  Druid  oak  * 
Stood  like  Caractacus,  in  act  to  rally 

His  host,  with  broad  arms  'gainst  the  thunder-stroke ; 

this  front,  which  abuts  on  the  windows  of  the  Prior's  Parlour,  and  the 
room  above,  where  Byron  slept,  flanks  and  conceals  the  west  end  of 
the  north  cloisters  and  library  ;  but,  with  this  exception,  it  is  a  screen, 
and  nothing  more.  In  the  centre  is  the  "  mighty  window  "  (stanza  Ixii. 
line  i ),  shorn  of  glass  and  tracery  ;  above  are  six  lancet  windows  (which 
Byron  seems  to  have  regarded  as  niches),  and,  above  again,  in  a 
"higher  niche"  (stanza  Ixi.  line  i),  is  the  crowned  Virgin  with  the 
Babe  in  her  arms,  which  escaped,  as  by  a  miracle,  the  "fiery  darts " — 
the  shot  and  cannon-balls  of  the  Cromwellian  troopers.  On  either  side 
of  the  central  window  are  ' '  two  blank  windows  containing  tracery 
['  geometrical  decorated  ']  .  .  .  carved  [in  relief]  on  the  solid  ashlar  ;  " 
on  either  side  of  the  window,  and  at  the  northern  and  southern  ex- 
tremities of  the  front,  are  buttresses  with  canopied  niches,  in  each  of 
which  a  saint  or  apostle  must  once  have  stood.  Over  the  west  door 
there  is  the  mutilated  figure  of  (?)  the  Saviour,  but  of  twelve  saints  or 
twelve  niches  there  is  no  trace.  The  "grand  arch"  is  an  ivy-clad 
screen,  and  nothing  more.  Behind  and  beyond,  in  place  of  vanished 
nave,  of  aisle  and  transept,  is  the  smooth  green  turf ;  and  at  the  east 
end,  on  the  site  of  the  high  altar,  stands  the  urn-crowned  masonry  of 
Boatswain's  tomb. 

Newstead  Abbey  was  sold  by  Lord  Byron  to  his  old  schoolfellow, 
Colonel  Thomas  Wildman,  in  November,  1817.  The  house  and  pro- 
perty were  resold  in  1861,  by  his  widow,  to  William  Frederick  Webb, 
Esq.,  a  traveller  in  many  lands,  the  friend  and  host  of  David  Living- 
stone. At  his  death  the  estate  was  inherited  by  his  daughter,  Miss 
Geraldine  Webb,  who  was  married  to  General  Sir  Herbert  Charles 
Chermside,  G.C.M.G.,  etc.,  Governor  of  Queensland,  in  1899. 

For  Newstead  Abbey,  see  Beauties  of  England  and  Wales,  1813,  xii. 
Part  I.  401-405  (often  reprinted  without  acknowledgment) ;  Abbotsford 
and  Neivstead  Abbey,  by  Washington  Irving,  1835 ;  Journal  of  the 
Arc/uzological  Association  (papers  by  T.  J.  Pettigrew,  F.R.S.,  and 
Arthur  Ashpitel,  F.S.A.),  1854,  vol.  ix.  pp.  14-39;  and  A  Souvenir  of 
Newstead  Abbey  (illustrated  by  a  series  of  admirable  photographs),  by 
Richard  Allen,  Nottingham,  1874,  etc.,  etc.] 

i.  [The  woodlands  were  sacrificed  to  the  needs  or  fancies  of  Byron's 
great-uncle,  the  "wicked  Lord."  One  splendid  oak,  known  as  the 
"  Pilgrim's  Oak,"  which  stood  and  stands  near  the  north  lodge  of  the 
park,  near  the  "  Hut,"  was  bought  in  by  the  neighbouring  gentry,  and 
made  over  to  the  estate.  Perhaps  by  the  Druid  oak  Byron  meant  to 
celebrate  this  "last  of  the  clan,"  which,  in  his  day,  before  the  woods 
were  replanted,  must  have  stood  out  in  solitary  grandeur.] 

VOL.  VI.  2   K 


498  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xm. 

And  from  beneath  his  boughs  were  seen  to  sally 

The  dappled  foresters  ;  as  Day  awoke, 
The  branching  stag  swept  down  with  all  his  herd, 
To  quaff  a  brook  which  murmured  like  a  bird. 

LVII. 
Before  the  mansion  lay  a  lucid  Lake,1 

Broad  as  transparent,  deep,  and  freshly  fed 
By  a  river,  which  its  softened  way  did  take 

In  currents  through  the  calmer  water  spread 
Around  :  the  wildfowl  nestled  in  the  brake 

And  sedges,  brooding  in  their  liquid  bed  : 
The  woods  2  sloped  downwards  to  its  brink,  and  stood 
With  their  green  faces  fixed  upon  the  flood. 

LVIII. 
Its  outlet  dashed  into  a  deep  cascade, 

Sparkling  with  foam,  until  again  subsiding, 
Its  shriller  echoes  —  like  an  infant  made  '• 

Quiet  —  sank  into  softer  ripples,  gliding 
Into  a  rivulet  ;  and  thus  allayed, 

Pursued  its  course,  now  gleaming,  and  now  hiding 
Its  windings  through  the  woods  ;  now  clear,  now  blue, 
According  as  the  skies  their  shadows  threw. 

LIX. 
A  glorious  remnant  of  the  Gothic  pile 

(While  yet  the  Church  was  Rome's)  stood  half  apart 
In  a  grand  Arch,  which  once  screened  many  an  aisle. 

These  last  had  disappeared  —  a  loss  to  Art  : 
The  first  yet  frowned  superbly  o'er  the  soil, 

And  kindled  feelings  in  the  roughest  heart, 
Which  mourned  the  power  of  Time's  or  Tempest's  march, 
In  gazing  on  that  venerable  Arch.''- 

i.  Its  shriller  echo  -  .—  [MS.] 

ii.    Which  sympathized  with  Time's  and  Tempest's  march, 
In  gazing  on  that  high  and  haughty  Arch.  —  [ 


i.  [Compare  "Epistle  to  Augusta,"  stanza  x.  line  i,  Poetical  Works, 
1901,  iv.  68.] 

•2.  [The  little  wood  which  Byron  planted  at  the  south-east  corner  of 
the  upper  or  "Stable"  Lake,  known  as  "  Poet's  Corner,"  still  slopes  to 
the  water's  brink.  Nor  have  the  wild-fowl  diminished.  The  lower 
of  the  three  lakes  is  specially  reserved  as  a  breeding-place.] 


CANTO  XIII.] 


DON   JUAN. 


499 


LX. 

Within  a  niche,  nigh  to  its  pinnacle, 

Twelve  Saints  had  once  stood  sanctified  in  stone ; 
But  these  had  fallen,  not  when  the  friars  fell, 

But  in  the  war  which  struck  Charles  from  his  throne, 
When  each  house  was  a  fortalice — as  tell 

The  annals  of  full  many  a  line  undone, — 
The  gallant  Cavaliers,1  who  fought  in  vain 
For  those  who  knew  not  to  resign  or  reign. 

LXI. 

But  in  a  higher  niche,  alone,  but  crowned, 
The  Virgin-Mother  of  the  God- born  Child, 

With  her  Son  in  her  blessed  arms,  looked  round, 

Spared  by  some  chance  when  all  beside  was  spoiled : 

She  made  the  earth  below  seem  holy  ground. 
This  may  be  superstition,  weak  or  wild-; 

But  even  the  faintest  relics  of  a  shrine 

Of  any  worship  wake  some  thoughts  divine. 

LXII. 
A  mighty  window,  hollow  in  the  centre, 

Shorn  of  its  glass  of  thousand  colourings, 
Through  which  the  deepened  glories  once  could  enter, 

Streaming  from  off  the  Sun  like  Seraph's  wings, 
Now  yawns  all  desolate :  now  loud,  now  fainter, 

The  gale  sweeps  through  its  fretwork,  and  oft  sings 
The  owl  his  anthem,  where  the  silenced  quire 
Lie  with  their  Hallelujahs  quenched  like  fire. 

Lxin. 
But  in  the  noontide  of  the  moon,  and  when  '• 

The  wind  is  winged  from  one  point  of  heaven, 
There  moans  a  strange  unearthly  sound,  which  then 

Is  musical — a  dying  accent  driven 
Through  the  huge  Arch,  which  soars  and  sinks  again. 

Some  deem  it  but  the  distant  echo  given 
Back  to  the  night  wind  by  the  waterfall, 
And  harmonised  by  the  old  choral  wall ; 

i.  But  in  the  stillness  of  the  moon . — \MS.~\ 

i.  [See  lines  "On   Leaving  Newstead  Abbey,"  stanza  5,  Poetical 
Works,  1898,  i.  3,  note  i.] 


500  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

LXIV. 

Others,  that  some  original  shape,  or  form 

Shaped  by  decay  perchance,  hath  given  the  power 
(Though  less  than  that  of  Memnon's  statue,1  warm 

In  Egypt's  rays,  to  harp  at  a  fixed  hour) 
To  this  grey  ruin :  with  a  voice  to  charm, 

Sad,  but  serene,  it  sweeps  o'er  tree  or  tower ; 
The  cause  I  know  not,  nor  can  solve ;  but  such 
The  fact : — I've  heard  it, — once  perhaps  too  much.2 

LXV. 
Amidst  the  court  a  Gothic  fountain  played, 

Symmetrical,  but  decked  with  carvings  quaint — 
Strange  faces,  like  to  men  in  masquerade, 

And  here  perhaps  a  monster,  there  a  saint : 
The  spring  gushed  through  grim  mouths  of  granite  made, 

And  sparkled  into  basins,  where  it  spent 
Its  little  torrent  in  a  thousand  bubbles, 
Like  man's  vain  Glory,  and  his  vainer  troubles. 

LXVI. 
The  Mansion's  self  was  vast  and  venerable, 

With  more  of  the  monastic  than  has  been 
Elsewhere  preserved :  the  cloisters  still  were  stable, 

The  cells,  too,  and  Refectory,  I  ween  : 
An  exquisite  small  chapel  had  been  able, 

Still  unimpaired,  to  decorate  the  scene ; 
The  rest  had  been  reformed,  replaced,  or  sunk, 
And  spoke  more  of  the  baron  than  the  monk. 

LXVII. 

Huge  halls,  long  galleries,  spacious  chambers,  joined 
By  no  quite  lawful  marriage  of  the  arts, 

1.  \Vide  ante.  The  Deformed  Transformed,  Part  I.  line  532,  Poetical 
Works,  1901,  v.  497.] 

2.  This  is  not  a  frolic  invention :  it  is  useless  to  specify  the  spot,  or 
in  what  county,  but  I  have  heard  it  both  alone  and  in  company  with 
those  who  will  never  hear  it  more.     It  can,  of  course,  be  accounted 
for  by  some  natural  or  accidental  cause,  but  it  was  a  strange  sound, 
and  unlike  any  other  I  have  ever  heard  (and  I  have  heard  many  above 
and  below  the  surface  of  the  earth  produced  in  ruins,  etc.,  etc.,  or 
caverns). — [MS.  ] 

["The  unearthly  sound"  may  still  be  heard  at  rare  intervals,  but  it 
is  difficult  to  believe  that  the  "  huge  arch  "  can  act  as  an  /Eolian  harp. 
Perhaps  the  smaller  lancet  windows  may  vocalize  the  wind.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  501 

Might  shock  a  connoisseur ;  but  when  combined, 
Formed  a  whole  which,  irregular  in  parts, 

Yet  left  a  grand  impression  on  the  mind, 

At  least  of  those  whose  eyes  are  in  their  hearts  : 

We  gaze  upon  a  giant  for  his  stature, 

Nor  judge  at  first  if  all  be  true  to  nature. 

LXVIII. 
Steel  Barons,  molten  the  next  generation 

To  silken  rows  of  gay  and  gartered  Earls, 
Glanced  from  the  walls  in  goodly  preservation  : 

And  Lady  Marys  blooming  into  girls, 
With  fair  long  locks,  had  also  kept  their  station  : 

And  Countesses  mature  in  robes  and  pearls  : 
Also  some  beauties  of  Sir  Peter  Lely, 
Whose  drapery  hints  we  may  admire  them  freely. 

LXIX. 
Judges  in  very  formidable  ermine 

Were  there,  with  brows  that  did  not  much  invite 
The  accused  to  think  their  lordships  would  determine 

His  cause  by  leaning  much  from  might  to  right : 
Bishops,  who  had  not  left  a  single  sermon ; 

Attorneys-general,  awful  to  the  sight, 
As  hinting  more  (unless  our  judgments  warp  us) 
Of  the  "  Star  Chamber  "  than  of  "  Habeas  Corpus." 

LXX. 

Generals,  some  all  in  armour,  of  the  old 
And  iron  time,  ere  lead  had  ta'en  the  lead ; 

Others  in  wigs  of  Marlborough's  martial  fold, 
Huger  than  twelve  of  our  degenerate  breed  :  '• 

Lordlings,  with  staves  of  white  or  keys  of  gold : 

Nimrods,  whose  canvas  scarce  contained  the  steed ; 

And,  here  and  there,  some  stern  high  patriot  stood, 

Who  could  not  get  the  place  for  which  he  sued. 

LXXI. 

But  ever  and  anon,  to  soothe  your  vision, 
Fatigued  with  these  hereditary  glories, 

i.  Prouder  of  such  a  toy  than  of  their  breed. — [MS.  erased.] 


502  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

There  rose  a  Carlo  Dolce  or  a  Titian, 
Or  wilder  group  of  savage  Salvatore's  : l 

Here  danced  Albano's  boys,  and  here  the  sea  shone 
In  Vernet's  ocean  lights ;  and  there  the  stories 

Of  martyrs  awed,  as  Spagnoletto  tainted 

His  brush  with  all  the  blood  of  all  the  sainted. 

LXXII. 
Here  sweetly  spread  a  landscape  of  Lorraine ; 

There  Rembrandt  made  his  darkness  equal  light, 
Or  gloomy  Caravaggio's  gloomier  stain 

Bronzed  o'er  some  lean  and  stoic  anchorite  : — 
But,  lo  !  a  Teniers  woos,  and  not  in  vain, 

Your  eyes  to  revel  in  a  livelier  sight : 
His  bell-mouthed  goblet  makes  me  feel  quite  Danish  2 
Or  Dutch  with  thirst — What,  ho  !  a  flask  of  Rhenish.'- 

LXXIII. 
Oh,  reader  !  if  that  thou  canst  read, — and  know, 

'T  is  not  enough  to  spell,  or  even  to  read, 
To  constitute  a  reader — there  must  go 

Virtues  of  which  both  you  and  I  have  need ; — 
Firstly,  begin  with  the  beginning — (though 

That  clause  is  hard) ;  and  secondly,  proceed  : 
Thirdly,  commence  not  with  the  end — or,  sinning 
In  this  sort,  end  at  last  with  the  beginning. 

LXXIV. 

But,  reader,  thou  hast  patient  been  of  late, 
While  I,  without  remorse  of  rhyme,  or  fear, 

i.  His  bell-mouthed  goblet — and  his  laughing  group 

Provoke  my  thirst — what  ho  I  a  flask  of  Rhenish. — [MS,  erased.] 

I.  Salvator  Rosa.    The  wicked  necessity  of  rhyming  obliges  me  to 
adapt  the  name  to  the  verse. — [MS.] 
[Compare — 

"  Whate'er  Lorraine  light  touch'd  with  softening  hue, 

Or  savage  Rosa  dash'd,  or  learned  Poussin  drew." 
Thomson's  Castle  of  Indolence,  Canto  I.  stanza  xxxviii.  lines  8,  9.] 
a.  If  I  err  not,  "your  Dane"  is  one  of  lago's  catalogue  of  nations 
"exquisite  in  their  drinking." 

["Your  Dane,  your  German,  and  your  swag-bellied  Hollander — 
drink  hoa  !  are  nothing  to  your  English. 

"Is  your  Englishman  so  exquisite  in  his  drinking?"  (So  Collier 
and  Knight.  The  Quarto  reads  "expert ").— Othello,  act  ii.  sc.  3, 
lines  71-74.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  503 

Have  built  and  laid  out  ground  at  such  a  rate, 
Dan  Phoebus  takes  me  for  an  auctioneer. 

That  Poets  were  so  from  their  earliest  date, 
By  Homer's  "  Catalogue  of  ships  "  is  clear ; 

But  a  mere  modern  must  be  moderate — 

I  spare  you  then  the  furniture  and  plate. 

LXXV. 
The  mellow  Autumn  came,  and  with  it  came 

The  promised  party,  to  enjoy  its  sweets. 
The  corn  is  cut,  the  manor  full  of  game ; 

The  pointer  ranges,  and  the  sportsman  beats 
In  russet  jacket : — lynx-like  in  his  aim ; 

Full  grows  his  bag,  and  wonder/z//  his  feats. 
Ah,  nutbrown  partridges  !    Ah,  brilliant  pheasants  ! 
And  ah,  ye  poachers  ! — 'T  is  no  sport  for  peasants. 

LXXVI. 
An  English  Autumn,  though  it  hath  no  vines, 

Blushing  with  Bacchant  coronals  along 
The  paths  o'er  which  the  far  festoon  entwines 

The  red  grape  in  the  sunny  lands  of  song, 
Hath  yet  a  purchased  choice  of  choicest  wines ; u 

The  Claret  light,  and  the  Madeira  strong. 
If  Britain  mourn  her  bleakness,  we  can  tell  her, 
The  very  best  of  vineyards  is  the  cellar. 

LXXVI  I. 

Then,  if  she  hath  not  that  serene  decline 

Which  makes  the  southern  Autumn's  day  appear 

As  if  't  would  to  a  second  Spring  resign 
The  season,  rather  than  to  Winter  drear, — 

Of  in-door  comforts  still  she  hath  a  mine, — 
The  sea-coal  fires,1  the  "  earliest  of  the  year  ; "  2 

i.  Hath  yet  at  night  the  very  best  of  wines. — [MS.} 

1.  ["Sea-coal"  (i.e.  Newcastle  coal),  as  distinguished  from  "char- 
coal "  and  "earth-coal."    But  the  qualification  must  have  been  unusual 
and  old-fashioned  in  1822.     "  Earth-coal"  is  found  in  large  quantities 
on  the  Newstead  estate,  and  the  Abbey,  far  below  its  foundations,  is 
tunnelled  by  a  coal-drift.] 

2.  [See  Gray's  omitted  stanza — 

"  '  Here  scatter'd  oft,  the  earliest  of  the  year, 

By  hands  unseen,  are  showers  of  violets  found  ; 


5°4  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

Without  doors,  too,  she  may  compete  in  mellow, 
As  what  is  lost  in  green  is  gained  in  yellow. 

LXXVIII. 

And  for  the  effeminate  villeggialura — 

Rife  with  more  horns  than  hounds — she  hath  the  chase, 
So  animated  that  it  might  allure  a 

Saint  from  his  beads  to  join  the  jocund  race  : 
Even  Nimrod's  self  might  leave  the  plains  of  Dura,1 

And  wear  the  Melton  jacket  for  a  space  : 
If  she  hath  no  wild  boars,  she  hath  a  tame 
Preserve  of  bores,  who  ought  to  be  made  game.1- 

LXXIX. 

The  noble  guests,2  assembled  at  the  Abbey, 
Consisted  of — we  give  the  sex  the/#,r — 

The  Duchess  of  Fitz-Fulke ;  the  Countess  Crabby ; il  3 
The  Ladies  Scilly,  Busey ; — Miss  Eclat, 

Miss  Bombazeen,  Miss  Mackstay,  Miss  O'Tabby, 
And  Mrs.  Rabbi,4  the  rich  banker's  squaw ; 

Also  the  honourable  Mrs.  Sleep, 

Who  looked  a  white  lamb,  yet  was  a  black  sheep  : 

i.  she  hath  the  tame 

Preset ved  within,  doors — why  not  make  them  Game  ?—[MS.] 
ii.  the  Countess  Squabby. — [MS.] 

The  red-breast  loves  to  build  and  warble  here, 
And  little  footsteps  lightly  print  the  ground.' 

As  fine  ...  as  any  in  his  Elegy.  I  %vonder  that  he  could  have  the  heart 
to  omit  it." — "Extracts  from  a  Diary,"  February  27,  1821,  Letters, 
1901,  v.  210.  The  stanza  originally  preceded  the  Epitaph.] 

1.  In  Assyria.     [See  Daniel  iii.  i.] 

2.  [It  is  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  furnish  a  clue  to  the  names  of 
all  the  guests  at  Norman  Abbey.     Some  who  are  included  in  this 
ghostly  "house-party"  seem  to  be,  and,  perhaps,  were  meant  to  be, 
nomina  umbrarum  ;  and  others  are,  undoubtedly,  contemporary  cele- 
brities, under  a  more  or  less  transparent  disguise.     A  few  of  these 
shadows  have  been  substantiated  {vide  infra,  et  post),  but  the  greater 
part  decline  to  be  materialized  or  verified.] 

3.  [Perhaps  Mary,  widow  of  the  eighth  Earl  of  Cork  and  Orrery : 
"Dowager  Cork,"  "Old  Corky,"  of  Joseph  Jekyll's  Correspondence, 
1894,  pp.  83,  275.3 

4.  [Mrs.  Rabbi  may  be  Mrs.  Coutts,  the  Mrs.  Million  of  Vivian  Grey 
(1826,  i.  183),  who  arrived  at  "  Chateau  Desir  in  a  crimson  silk  pelisse, 
hat  and  feathers,  with  diamond  ear-rings,  and  a  rope  of  gold  round 
her  neck."] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  505 

LXXX. 

With  other  Countesses  of  Blank — but  rank ; 

At  once  the  "  lie  " l  and  the  elite  of  crowds ; 
Who  pass  like  water  filtered  in  a  tank, 

All  purged  and  pious  from  their  native  clouds ; 
Or  paper  turned  to  money  by  the  Bank  : 

No  matter  how  or  why,  the  passport  shrouds 
The pass'ee  and  the  past ;  for  good  society 
Is  no  less  famed  for  tolerance  than  piety, — 

LXXXI. 

That  is,  up  to  a  certain  point ;  which  point 
Forms  the  most  difficult  in  punctuation. 

Appearances  appear  to  form  the  joint 
On  which  it  hinges  in  a  higher  station ; 

And  so  that  no  explosion  cry  "  Aroint 

Thee,  witch  ! "  2  or  each  Medea  has  her  Jason ; 

Or  (to  the  point  with  Horace  and  with  Pulci) j- 

"  Otnne  tulit punctum^  quse  miscuit  utile  dulci"  3 

LXXXII. 
I  can't  exactly  trace  their  rule  of  right, 

Which  hath  a  little  leaning  to  a  lottery. 
I  've  seen  a  virtuous  woman  put  down  quite 

By  the  mere  combination  of  a  coterie ; 
Also  a  so-so  matron  boldly  fight 

Her  way  back  to  the  world  by  dint  of  plottery,"- 
And  shine  the  very  Stria.*  of  the  spheres, 
Escaping  with  a  few  slight,  scarless  sneers. 

LXXXIII. 

I  have  seen  more  than  I  '11  say : — but  we  will  see "' 
How  our  "  villeggiatura  "  will  get  on. 

i.  Or  (io  come  to  the  point,  like  my  friend  Pulci). — [MS.  erased.] 

ii.  by  fear  or  flattery. — [MS.  erased.] 

iii.  /  have  seen — no  matter  what — -we  now  shall  see. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Lie,  lye,  or  ley,  is  a  solution  of  potassium  salts   obtained   by 
bleaching  wood-ashes.      Byron  seems  to  have  confused   "lie"  with 
"lee,"  i.e.  dregs,  sediment.] 

2.  ["Aroint  t/iee,  witch!  the  rump-fed  ronyon  cries." 

Macbeth,  act  ii.  sc.  3,  line  6.] 

3.  [Hor.,  Epist.  Ad  Pisones,  line  343.] 

4.  Siria,  i.e.  bitch-star. 


506  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xm. 

The  party  might  consist  of  thirty-three 

Of  highest  caste — the  Brahmins  of  the  ton. 

I  have  named  a  few,  not  foremost  in  degree,  * 

But  ta'en  at  hazard  as  the  rhyme  may  run. 

By  way  of  sprinkling,  scattered  amongst  these, 

There  also  were  some  Irish  absentees. 

LXXXIV. 
There  was  Parolles,1  too,  the  legal  bully  ,i- 

Who  limits  all  his  battles  to  the  Bar 
And  Senate  :  when  invited  elsewhere,  truly, 

He  shows  more  appetite  for  words  than  war. 
There  was  the  young  bard  Rackrhyme,  who  had  newly 

Come  out  and  glimmered  as  a  six  weeks'  star. 
There  was  Lord  Pyrrho,  too,  the  great  freethinker ; 
And  Sir  John  Pottledeep,  the  mighty  drinker. 

LXXXV. 

There  was  the  Duke  of  Dash,3  who  was  a — duke, 
"  Aye,  every  inch  a  "  duke ;  there  were  twelve  peers 

i.  There  was,  too,  Henry  B . — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [Parolles  [see  Alts  Well  that  Ends  Well,  passim]  is  Brougham 
(vide  ante,  the  suppressed  stanzas,  Canto  I.  pp.  67-69).     It  is  possible 
that  this  stanza  was  written  after  the  Canto  as  a  whole  was  finished. 
But,  if  not,  an  incident  which  took  place  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
April  17,  1823,  during  a  debate  on  Catholic  Emancipation,  may  be 
quoted  in  corroboration  of  Brougham's  unreadiness  with  regard  to  the 
point  of  honour.      In  the  course  of  his  speech  he  accused  Canning 
of  "  monstrous  truckling  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  office,"  and 
Canning,  without  waiting  for  Brougham  to  finish,  gave  him  the  lie : 
"  I  rise  to  say  that  that  is  false  "  (Parl.  Deb.,  N.S.  vol.  8,  p.  1091). 

There  was  a  "scene,"  which  ended  in  an  exchange  of  explanations 
and  quasi-apologies,  and  henceforth,  as  a  rule,  parliamentary  insults 
were  given  and  received  without  recourse  to  duelling.  Byron  was  not 
aware  that  the  "old  order"  had  passed  or  was  passing.  Compare 
Hazlitt,  in  The  Spirit  of  the  Age,  1825,  pp.  302,  303  :  "  He  [Brougham] 
is  adventurous,  but  easily  panic-struck,  and  sacrifices  the  vanity  of  self- 
opinion  to  the  necessity  of  self-preservation  .  .  .  himself  the  first  to 
get  out  of  harm's  way  and  escape  from  the  danger  ;  "  and  Mr.  Parthe- 
nopex  Puff  j(W.  Stewart  Rose),  in  Vivian  Grey  (1826,  i.  186,  187), 
"  Oh  !  he's  a  prodigious  fellow  !  What  do  you  think  Booby  says?  he 
says,  that  Foaming  Fudge  [Brougham]  can  do  more  than  any  man  in 
Great  Britain ;  that  he  had  one  day  to  plead  in  the  King's  Bench, 
spout  at  a  tavern,  speak  in  the  House,  and  fight  a  duel — and  that  he 
found  time  for  everything  but  the  last."] 

2.  [In  his  Journal  for  December  5,  1813,  Byron  writes  :  "  The  Duke 
of called.  .  .  .  His  Grace  is  a  good,  noble,  ducal  person  "  (Letters, 


CANTO  XIII.] 


DON   JUAN. 


507 


Like  Charlemagne's — and  all  such  peers  in  look 

And  intellect,  that  neither  eyes  nor  ears 
For  commoners  had  ever  them  mistook. 

There  were  the  six  Miss  Rawbolds — pretty  dears  ! 
All  song  and  sentiment ;  whose  hearts  were  set 
Less  on  a  convent  than  a  coronet. 

LXXXVI. 

There  were  four  Honourable  Misters,  whose 

Honour  was  more  before  their  names  than  after ; 
There  was  theflreux  Chevalier  de  la  Ruse?- 
,    Whom  France  and  Fortune  lately  deigned  to  waft  here, 
Whose  chiefly  harmless  talent  was  to  amuse ; 

But  the  clubs  found  it  rather  serious  laughter, 
Because — such  was  his  magic  power  to  please — 
The  dice  seemed  charmed,  too,  with  his  repartees. 

LXXXVII. 

There  was  Dick  Dubious,2  the  metaphysician, 
Who  loved  philosophy  and  a  good  dinner  ; 

Angle,  the  soi-disant  mathematician ; 

Sir  Henry  Silvercup,  the  great  race-winner. 


1898,  ii.  361).  Possibly  the  earlier  "Duke  of  Dash"  was  William 
Spencer,  sixth  Duke  of  Devonshire,  an  old  schoolfellow  of  Byron's, 
who  was  eager  to  renew  the  acquaintance  {Letters,  1899,  iii.  98,  note  2)  ; 
and,  if  so,  he  may  be  reckoned  as  one  of  the  guests  of  "  Norman 
Abbey."] 

1.  [Grono\v  (Reminiscences,  1889,  i.  234-240)  identifies  the  Chevalier 
de  la  Ruse  with  Casimir  Comte  de  Montrond  (1768-1843),  back-stairs 
diplomatist,  wit,  gambler,  and  man  of  fashion.     He  was  the  lifelong 
companion,  if  not  friend,  of  Talleyrand,  who  pleaded  for  him:  "  Qui 
est-ce  qui  ne  1'aimerait  pas,  il  est  si  vicieux!"    Atone  time -in  the 
pay  of  Napoleon,  he  fell  under  his  displeasure,  and,  to  avoid  arrest, 
spent  two  years  of  exile  (1812-14)  in  England.     "He  was  not,"  says 
Gronow,  ' '  a  great  talker,  nor  did  he  swagger  ...  or  laugh  at  his  own 
bons-mots.     He  was  demure,  sleek,  sly,  and  dangerous.  ...  In  the 
London  clubs  he  went  by  the  name  of  Old  French."   He  was  a  constant 
guest  of  the  Duke  of  York's  at  Oatlands,  ' '  and  won  much  at  his  whist- 
table"  {English   Whist,  by  W.   P.  Courtney,  1894,  p.  181).     For  his 
second  residence  in  England,  and  for  a  sketch  by  D'Orsay,  see  A 
Portion  of  the  Journal,  etc.,  by  Thomas  Raikes,  1857,  frontispiece  to 
vol.  iv.,  et  vols.  i.-iv.  passim.     See,  for  biographical  notice,  L'Ami  de 
M.  de  Talleyrand,  par  Henri  Welschinger,  La  Revue  de  Paris,  1895, 
Fev.,  torn.  i.  pp.  640-654.] 

2.  [Perhaps  Sir  James  Mackintosh — a  frequent  guest  at   Holland 
House.] 


5°8  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

There  was  the  Reverend  Rodoraont  Precisian, 
Who  did  not  hate  so  much  the  sin  as  sinner  : 
And  Lord  Augustus  Fitz-Plantagenet, 
Good  at  all  things,  but  better  at  a  bet. 

LXXXVIII. 
There  was  Jack  Jargon,  the  gigantic  guardsman ; l 

And  General  Fireface,2  famous  in  the  field, 
A  great  tactician,  and  no  less  a  swordsman, 

Who  ate,  last  war,  more  Yankees  than  he  killed. 
There  was  the  waggish  Welsh  Judge,  Jefferies  Hardsman, 

In  his  grave  office  so  completely  skilled, 
That  when  a  culprit  came  for  condemnation, 
He  had  his  Judge's  joke  for  consolation. 

LXXXIX. 

Good  company  's  a  chess-board — there  are  kings, 

Queens,  bishops,  knights,  rooks,  pawns ;  the  World  's 
a  game ; 

1.  [Possibly  Colonel  (afterwards  Sir  James)  Macdonell  [d.    1857], 
•'  a  man  of  colossal  stature,"  who  occupied  and  defended  the  Chateau 
of  Hougoumont  on  the  night  before  the  battle  of  Waterloo.    (See 
Gronow,  Reminiscences,  1889,  i.  76,  77.)] 

2.  [Sir  George  Prevost  (1767-1816),  the  Governor-General  of  British 
North  America,  and  nominally  Commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  in  the 
second  American  War,  contributed,  by  his  excess  of  caution,  supineness, 
and  delay,  to  the  humiliation  of  the  British  forces.     The  particular 
allusion  is  to  his  alleged  inaction  at  a  critical  moment  in  the  engagement 
of  September  n,  1814,  between  Commodore  Macdonough  and  Captain 
Downie  in   Plattsburg  Bay.     ' '  A  letter  was  sent  to  Capt.  Downie, 
strongly  urging  him  to  come  on,  as  the  army  had  long  been  waiting  for 
his  co-operation.  .  ,  .  The  brave  Downie  replied  that  he  required  no 
urging  to  do  his  duty.  .  .  .  He  was  as  good  as  his  word.    The  guns 
were  scaled  when  he  got  under  way,  upon  hearing  which  Sir  George 
issued  an  order  for  the  troops  to  cook,  instead  of  that  of  instant  co-opera- 
tion."— To  Editor' of  the  Montreal  Herald,  May  23,  1815,  Letters  of 
Veriias,  1815,  pp.  116,  117.     See,  too,   The  Quarterly  Review,  July, 
1822,  vol.  xxvii.  p.  446.] 

3.  [George  Hardinge  (1744-1816),  who  was  returned  M.  P.  for  Old 
Sarum  in  1784,  was  appointed,  in  1787,  Senior  Justice  of  the  Counties 
of  Brecon,  Glamorgan,  and  Radnor.     According  to  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine,  1816  (vol.  Ixxxvi.  p.  563),  ' '  In  conversation  he  had  few  equals. 
.  .  .  He  delighted  in  pleasantries,  and  always  afforded  to  his  auditors 
abundance  of  mirth  and  entertainment  as  well  as  information."     Byron 
seems  to  have  supposed  that  these  "pleasantries  "  found  their  way  into 
his  addresses  to  condemned  prisoners,  but  if  the  charges  printed  in  his 
Miscellaneous  Works,  edited  by  John  Nichols  in  1818,  are  reported  in 
full,  he  was  entirely  mistaken.    They  are  tedious,  but  the  "  waggery  " 
is  conspicuous  by  its  absence.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  509 

Save  that  the  puppets  pull  at  their  own  strings, 
Methinks  gay  Punch  hath  something  of  the  same. 

My  Muse,  the  butterfly  hath  but  her  wings, 
Not  stings,  and  flits  through  ether  without  aim, 

Alighting  rarely  : — were  she  but  a  hornet, 

Perhaps  there  might  be  vices  which  would  mourn  it. 

xc. 
I  had  forgotten — but  must  not  forget — 

An  orator,  the  latest  of  the  session, 
Who  had  delivered  well  a  very  set 

Smooth  speech,  his  first  and  maidenly  transgression 
Upon  debate  :  the  papers  echoed  yet 

With  his  debut,  which  made  a  strong  impression, 
And  ranked  with  what  is  every  day  displayed — 
"  The  best  first  speech  that  ever  yet  was  made." 

xci. 
Proud  of  his  "  Hear  hims  ! "  proud,  too,  of  his  vote, 

And  lost  virginity  of  oratory, 
Proud  of  his  learning  (just  enough  to  quote), 

He  revelled  in  his  Ciceronian  glory  : 
With  memory  excellent  to  get  by  rote, 

With  wit  to  hatch  a  pun  or  tell  a  story, 
Graced  with  some  merit,  and  with  more  effrontery,1 
"  His  country's  pride,"  he  came  down  to  the  country. 

xcn. 
There  also  were  two  wits  by  acclamation, 

Longbow  from  Ireland,1  Strongbow  from  the  Tweed  2 — 

i.    With  all  his  laurels  growing  upon  one  tree. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  [John  Philpot  Curran  (1750-1817).     "Did  you  know  Curran?" 
asked  Byron  of  Lady  Blessington  (Conversations,  1834,  p.  176)  ;  "he 
was  the  most  wonderful  person  I  ever  saw.     In  him  was  combined  an 
imagination  the  most  brilliant  and  profound,  with  a  flexibility  and  wit 

that  would  have  justified  the  observation  applied  to that  his  heart 

was  in  his  head."     (See,  too,  Detached    Thoughts,  No.  24,  Letters, 
1901,  v.  421.)] 

2.  [For  Thomas  Lord  Erskine  (1750-1823),  see  Letters,  1898,  ii.  390, 
note  5.      See,  too,  Detached  Thoughts,  No.  93,  letters,  1901,  v.  455, 
456.     In  his  Spirit  of  the  Age,  1825,  pp.  297,  298,  Hazlitt  contrasts 
"the  impassioned  appeals  and  flashes  of  wit  of  a  Curran  .  .  .  the 
golden  tide  of  wisdom,  eloquence,  and  fancy  of  a  Burke,"  with   the 
"dashing  and  graceful  manner"  which  concealed  the  poverty  and 
"  deadness  "  of  the  matter  of  Erskine's  speeches.] 


5io  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xin. 

Both  lawyers  and  both  men  of  education — 

But  Strongbow's  wit  was  of  more  polished  breed ; 

Longbow  was  rich  in  an  imagination 
As  beautiful  and  bounding  as  a  steed, 

But  sometimes  stumbling  over  a  potato, — 

While  Strongbow's  best  things  might  have  come  from 
Cato. 

XCIII. 

Strongbow  was  like  a  new-tuned  harpsichord ; 

But  Longbow  wild  as  an  ./Eolian  harp, 
With  which  the  Winds  of  heaven  can  claim  accord, 

And  make  a  music,  whether  flat  or  sharp. 
Of  Strongbow's  talk  you  would  not  change  a  word : 

At  Longbow's  phrases  you  might  sometimes  carp  : 
Both  wits — one  born  so,  and  the  other  bred — 
This  by  his  heart — his  rival  by  his  head. 

xciv. 
If  all  these  seem  an  heterogeneous  mass 

To  be  assembled  at  a  country  seat, 
Yet  think,  a  specimen  of  every  class 

Is  better  than  a  humdrum  tete-a-tete. 
The  days  of  Comedy  are  gone,  alas  ! 

When  Congreve's  fool  could  vie  with  Moliere's  bete  ; 
Society  is  smoothed  to  that  excess, 
That  manners  hardly  differ  more  than  dress. 

xcv. 
Our  ridicules  are  kept  in  the  back-ground — 

Ridiculous  enough,  but  also  dull ; 
Professions,  too,  are  no  more  to  be  found 

Professional ;  and  there  is  nought  to  cull l 
Of  Folly's  fruit ;  for  though  your  fools  abound, 

They  're  barren,  and  not  worth  the  pains  to  pull. 
Society  is  now  one  polished  horde, 
Formed  of  two  mighty  tribes,  the  Bores  and  Bored. 

xcvi. 

But  from  being  farmers,  we  turn  gleaners,  gleaning 
The  scanty  but  right-well  threshed  ears  of  Truth ; 

i.  all  classes  mostly  pull 

At  the  same  oar . — [MS.  erased.'] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  511 

And,  gentle  reader  !  when  you  gather  meaning, 
You  may  be  Boaz,  and  I  —  modest  Ruth. 

Further  I  'd  quote,  but  Scripture  intervening 
Forbids.     A  great  impression  in  my  youth 

Was  made  by  Mrs.  Adams,  where  she  cries, 

"  That  Scriptures  out  of  church  are  blasphemies."  l 

XCVII. 

But  what  we  can  we  glean  in  this  vile  age  '• 
Of  chaff,  although  our  gleanings  be  not  grist. 

I  must  not  quite  omit  the  talking  sage, 
Kit-Cat,  the  famous  Conversationist,2 

Who,  in  his  common-place  book,  had  a  page 

Prepared  each  morn  for  evenings.     "  List,  oh  list  !  " 

"  Alas,  poor  ghost  !  "  3  —  What  unexpected  woes 

Await  those  who  have  studied  their  bons-mots  ! 

xcvni. 
Firstly,  they  must  allure  the  conversation, 

By  many  windings  to  their  clever  clinch  ; 
And  secondly,  must  let  slip  no  occasion, 

Nor  bate  (abate)  their  hearers  of  an  inch'?- 
But  take  an  ell  —  and  make  a  great  sensation, 

If  possible  ;  and  thirdly,  never  flinch 
When  some  smart  talker  puts  them  to  the  test, 
But  seize  the  last  word,  which  no  doubt  's  the  best. 

xcix. 
Lord  Henry  and  his  lady  were  the  hosts  ; 

The  party  we  have  touched  on  were  the  guests. 
Their  table  was  a  board  to  tempt  even  ghosts 

To  pass  the  Styx  for  more  substantial  feasts. 

i.  -  in  the  ripe  age.  —  [MS.] 
ii.  Nor  bate  (read  bait) 


1.  ["  Mrs.  Adams  answered  Mr.  Adams,  that  it  was  blasphemous  to 
talk  of  Scripture  out  of  church."     This  dogma  was  broached  to  her 
husband  —  the  best  Christian  in  any  book.  —  See   The  History  of  the 
Adventures  of  Joseph  Andrews,  Bk.  IV.  chap.  xi.  ed.  1876,  p.  324.] 

2.  [Probably  Richard  Sharp  (1759-1835),  known  as  "  Conversation 
Sharp."     Byron   frequently   met  him   in  society   in   1813-14,  and   in 
"  Extracts  from  a  Diary,"  January  9,    1821,  Letters,  1901,   v.    161, 
describes  him  as  "the  Conversationist."     He  visited  Byron  at  the  Villa 
Diodati  in  the  autumn  of  1816  (Life,  p.  323).] 

3.  [Hamlet,  act  i.  sc.  5,  line  22.] 


5"  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xni. 

I  will  not  dwell  upon  ragouts  or  roasts, 

Albeit  all  human  history  attests 
That  happiness  for  Man — the  hungry  sinner  ! — 
Since  Eve  ate  apples,  much  depends  on  dinner. 

c. 
Witness  the  lands  which  "  flowed  with  milk  and  honey," 

Held  out  unto  the  hungry  Israelites : 
To  this  we  have  added  since,  the  love  of  money, 

The  only  sort  of  pleasure  which  requites. 
Youth  fades,  and  leaves  our  days  no  longer  sunny ; 

We  tire  of  mistresses  and  parasites ; 
But  oh,  ambrosial  cash  !    Ah  !  who  would  lose  thee  ? 
When  we  no  more  can  use,  or  even  abuse  thee  ! 

ci. 

The  gentlemen  got  up  betimes  to  shoot, 

Or  hunt :  the  young,  because  they  liked  the  sport — 
The  first  thing  boys  like  after  play  and  fruit ; 

The  middle-aged,  to  make  the  day  more  short ; 
For  ennui l  is  a  growth  of  English  root, 

Though  nameless  in  our  language  : — we  retort 
The  fact  for  words,  and  let  the  French  translate 
That  awful  yawn  which  sleep  can  not  abate. 

en. 
The  elderly  walked  through  the  library, 

And  tumbled  books,  or  criticised  the  pictures, 
Or  sauntered  through  the  gardens  piteously, 

And  made  upon  the  hot-house  several  strictures, 
Or  rode  a  nag  which  trotted  not  too  high, 

Or  on  the  morning  papers  read  their  lectures, 
Or  on  the  watch  their  longing  eyes  would  fix, 
Longing  at  sixty  for  the  hour  of  six. 

cm. 
But  none  were  gene  ;  the  great  hour  of  union 

Was  rung  by  dinner's  knell ;  till  then  all  were 
Masters  of  their  own  time — or  in  communion, 

Or  solitary,  as  they  chose  to  bear 

i.  [See  letters  to  the  Earl  of  Blessington,  April  5,  1823,  Letters,  1891, 
vi.  187.] 


CANTO  XIII.]  DON   JUAN.  513 

The  hours,  which  how  to  pass  is  but  to  few  known. 

Each  rose  up  at  his  own,  and  had  to  spare 
What  time  he  chose  for  dress,  and  broke  his  fast 
When,  where,  and  how  he  chose  for  that  repast. 

civ. 
The  ladies — some  rouged,  some  a  little  pale — 

Met  the  morn  as  they  might.     If  fine,  they  rode, 
Or  walked ;  if  foul,  they  read,  or  told  a  tale, 

Sung,  or  rehearsed  the  last  dance  from  abroad ; 
Discussed  the  fashion  which  might  next  prevail, 

And  settled  bonnets  by  the  newest  code, 
Or  crammed  twelve  sheets  into  one  little  letter, 
To  make  each  correspondent  a  new  debtor. 

cv. 
For  some  had  absent  lovers,  all  had  friends ; 

The  earth  has  nothing  like  a  she  epistle, 
And  hardly  Heaven — because  it  never  ends — 

I  love  the  mystery  of  a  female  missal, 
Which,  like  a  creed,  ne'er  says  all  it  intends, 

But  full  of  cunning  as  Ulysses"  whistle,'- 
When  he  allured  poor  Dolon  : l — you  had  better 
Take  care  what  you  reply  to  such  a  letter. 

cvi. 

Then  there  were  billiards ;  cards,  too,  but  no  dice ; — 
Save  in  the  clubs  no  man  of  honour  plays ; — 

Boats  when  't  was  water,  skating  when  't  was  ice, 
And  the  hard  frost  destroyed  the  scenting  days  : 

And  angling,  too,  that  solitary  vice, 
Whatever  Izaak  Walton  sings  or  says  : 

The  quaint,  old,  cruel  coxcomb,  in  his  gullet 

Should  have  a  hook,  and  a  small  trout  to  pull  it.2 

i.  Butfiill  of  wisdom .-—[MS.] 

A  sort  of  rose  entwining  with  a  thistle. — [MS.  erased.] 

1.  \Illad,  x.  341,  sg.] 

2.  It  would  have  taught  him  humanity  at  least.    This  sentimental 
savage,  whom  it  is  a  mode  to  quote  (amongst  the  novelists)  to  show 
their  sympathy  for  innocent  sports  iand  old  songs,  teaches  how  to  sew 
up  frogs,  and  break  their  legs  by  way  of  experiment,  in  addition  to  the 
art  of  angling, — the  crudest,  the  coldest,  and  the  stupidest  of  pre- 
tended sports.     They  may  talk  about  the  beauties  of  nature,  but  the 

VOL.  VI.  2    L 


514  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiir. 

cvn. 

With  evening  came  the  banquet  and  the  wine ; 

The  conversazione — the  duet 
Attuned  by  voices  more  or  less  divine 

(My  heart  or  head  aches  with  the  memory  yet). 
The  four  Miss  Rawbolds  in  a  glee  would  shine ; 

But  the  two  youngest  loved  more  to  be  set 
Down  to  the  harp — because  to  Music's  charms 
They  added  graceful  necks,  white  hands  and  arms. 

CVIII. 

Sometimes  a  dance  (though  rarely  on  field  days, 
For  then  the  gentlemen  were  rather  tired) 

Displayed  some  sylph-like  figures  in  its  maze ; 
Then  there  was  small-talk  ready  when  required ; 

Flirtation — but  decorous ;  the  mere  praise 

Of  charms  that  should  or  should  not  be  admired. 

The  hunters  fought  their  fox-hunt  o'er  again, 

And  then  retreated  soberly — at  ten. 

cix. 

The  politicians,  in  a  nook  apart, 

Discussed  the  World,  and  settled  all  the  spheres : 
The  wits  watched  every  loophole  for  their  art, 

To  introduce  a  bon-mot  head  and  ears ; 
Small  is  the  rest  of  those  who  would  be  smart, 

A  moment's  good  thing  may  have  cost  them  years 
Before  they  find  an  hour  to  introduce  it ; 
And  then,  even  then,  some  bore  may  make  them  lose  it. 

angler  merely  thinks  of  his  dish  of  fish  ;  he  has  no  leisure  to  take  his 
eyes  from  off  the  streams,  and  a  single  bite  is  worth  to  him  more  than 
all  the  scenery  around.  Besides,  some  fish  bite  best  on  a  rainy  day. 
The  whale,  the  shark,  and  the  tunny  fishery  have  somewhat  of  noble 
and  perilous  in  them  ;  even  net  fishing,  trawling,  etc. ,  are  more  humane 
and  useful.  But  angling ! — no  angler  can  be  a  good  man. 

"One  of  the  best  men  I  ever  knew, — as  humane,  delicate-minded, 
generous,  and  excellent  a  creature  as  any  in  the  world, — was  an  angler  : 
true,  he  angled  with  painted  flies,  and  would  have  been  incapable  of 
the  extravagancies  of  I.  Walton." 

The  above  addition  was  made  by  a  friend  in  reading  over  the  MS. — 
"Audi  alteram  partem." — I  leave  it  to  counter-balance  my  own 
observation. 


CANTO  XIII.] 


DON   JUAN. 


ex. 


But  all  was  gentle  and  aristocratic 

In  this  our  party  j  polished,  smooth,  and  cold, 
As  Phidian  forms  cut  out  of  marble  Attic. 

There  now  are  no  Squire  Westerns,  as  of  old  ; 
And  our  Sophias  are  not  so  emphatic, 

But  fair  as  then,  or  fairer  to  behold  : 
We  have  no  accomplished  blackguards,  like  Tom  Jones, 
But  gentlemen  in  stays,  as  stiff  as  stones. 

CXI. 
They  separated  at  an  early  hour  ; 

That  is,  ere  midnight  —  which  is  London's  noon  : 
But  in  the  country  ladies  seek  their  bower 

A  little  earlier  than  the  waning  moon. 
Peace  to  the  slumbers  of  each  folded  flower  — 

May  the  rose  call  back  its  true  colour  soon  ! 
Good  hours  of  fair  cheeks  are  the  fairest  tinters, 
And  lower  the  price  of  rouge  —  at  least  some  winters.1 

i.  B.  Fy.  I9th  1823.—  [MS.] 


516  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 


CANTO   THE    FOURTEENTH. 


IF  from  great  Nature's  or  our  own  abyss  l 
Of  Thought  we  could  but  snatch  a  certainty, 

Perhaps  Mankind  might  find  the  path  they  miss — 
But  then  't  would  spoil  much  good  philosophy. 

One  system  eats  another  up,  and  this 2 
Much  as  old  Saturn  ate  his  progeny  ; 

For  when  his  pious  consort  gave  him  stones 

In  lieu  of  sons,  of  these  he  made  no  bones. 

ii. 
But  System  doth  reverse  the  Titan's  breakfast, 

And  eats  her  parents,  albeit  the  digestion 
Is  difficult.     Pray  tell  me,  can  you  make  fast, 

After  due  search,  your  faith  to  any  question  ? 
Look  back  o'er  ages,  ere  unto  the  stake  fast 

You  bind  yourself,  and  call  some  mode  the  best  one. 
Nothing  more  true  than  not  to  trust  your  senses  ; 
And  yet  what  are  your  other  evidences  ? 

in. 
For  me,  I  know  nought ;  nothing  I  deny, 

Admit — reject — contemn :  and  what  know  you, 
Except  perhaps  that  you  were  born  to  die  ? 

And  both  may  after  all  turn  out  untrue. 

1.  Fry.  23,  1814  (sic).—  [MS.] 

2.  [Compare — 

' '  Our  little  systems  have  their  day ; 

They  have  their  day  and  cease  to  be." 

Tennyson's  In  Memon'am.] 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON    JUAN.  517 

An  age  may  come,  Font  of  Eternity, 

When  nothing  shall  be  either  old  or  new. 
Death,  so  called,  is  a  thing  which  makes  men  weep, 
And  yet  a  third  of  Life  is  passed  in  sleep. 

IV. 

A  sleep  without  dreams,  after  a  rough  day 

Of  toil,  is  what  we  covet  most ;  and  yet 
How  clay  shrinks  back  from  more  quiescent  clay  ! 

The  very  Suicide  that  pays  his  debt 
At  once  without  instalments  (an  old  way 

Of  paying  debts,  which  creditors  regret), 
Lets  out  impatiently  his  rushing  breath, 
Less  from  disgust  of  Life  than  dread  of  Death. 

v. 

'T  is  round  him — near  him — here — there — everywhere — 
And  there 's  a  courage  which  grows  out  of  fear, 

Perhaps  of  all  most  desperate,  which  will  dare 
The  worst  to  know  it : — when  the  mountains  rear 

Their  peaks  beneath  your  human  foot,  and  there 
You  look  down  o'er  the  precipice,  and  drear 

The  gulf  of  rock  yawns, — you  can't  gaze  a  minute, 

Without  an  awful  wish  to  plunge  within  it. 

VI. 

'T  is  true,  you  don't — but,  pale  and  struck  with  terror, 
Retire  :  but  look  into  your  past  impression  ! 

And  you  will  find,  though  shuddering  at  the  mirror 
Of  your  own  thoughts,  in  all  their  self-confession, 

The  lurking  bias,1  be  it  truth  or  error, 
To  the  unknown  ;  a  secret  prepossession, 

To  plunge  with  all  your  fears — but  where  ?     You  know 
not, 

And  that 's  the  reason  why  you  do — or  do  not. 

VII. 

But  what 's  this  to  the  purpose  ?  you  will  say. 
Gent,  reader,  nothing  ;  a  mere  speculation, 

i.  [With  this  open  mind  with  regard  to  the  future,  compare  Charles 
Kingsley's  "reverent  curiosity"  (Letters  and  Memoirs,  etc.,  1883,  p. 
349)-] 


518  DON   JUAN. 

For  which  my  sole  excuse  is — 't  is  my  way  ; 

Sometimes  with  and  sometimes  without  occasion, 
I  write  what 's  uppermost,  without  delay ; 

This  narrative  is  not  meant  for  narration, 
But  a  mere  airy  and  fantastic  basis, 
To  build  up  common  things  with  common  places. 

VIII. 

You  know,  or  don't  know,  that  great  Bacon  saith, 

"  Fling  up  a  straw,  't  will  show  the  way  the  wind 
blows;"1 

And  such  a  straw,  borne  on  by  human  breath, 
Is  Poesy,  according  as  the  Mind  glows  ; 

A  paper  kite  which  flies  'twixt  Life  and  Death, 
A  shadow  which  the  onward  Soul  behind  throws : 

And  mine  's  a  bubble,  not  blown  up  for  praise, 

But  just  to  play  with,  as  an  infant  plays. 

IX. 

The  World  is  all  before  me  2 — or  behind ; 

For  I  have  seen  a  portion  of  that  same, 
And  quite  enough  for  me  to  keep  in  mind ; — 

Of  passions,  too,  I  have  proved  enough  to  blame, 
To  the  great  pleasure  of  our  friends,  Mankind, 

Who  like  to  mix  some  slight  alloy  with  fame ; 
For  I  was  rather  famous  in  my  time, 
Until  I  fairly  knocked  it  up  with  rhyme. 

x. 

I  have  brought  this  world  about  my  ears,  and  eke 
The  other ;  that 's  to  say,  the  Clergy — who 

Upon  my  head  have  bid  their  thunders  break 
In  pious  libels  by  no  means  a  few. 

And  yet  I  can't  help  scribbling  once  a  week, 
Tiring  old  readers,  nor  discovering  new. 

In  Youth  I  wrote  because  my  mind  was  full, 

And  now  because  I  feel  it  growing  dull. 

1.  ["  We  usually  try  which  way  the  wind  bloweth,  by  casting  up  grass 
or  chaff,  or  such  light  things  into  the  air." — Bacon's  Natural  History, 
No.  820,  Works,  1740,  iii.  168.] 

2.  ["  The  World  was  all  before  them. " 

Paradise  Lost,  bk.  xii.  line  646.] 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  519 

XI. 

But  "  why  then  publish  ?  "  1 — There  are  no  rewards 
Of  fame  or  profit  when  the  World  grows  weary. 

I  ask  in  turn, — Why  do  you  play  at  cards  ? 

Why  drink  ?    Why  read  ? — To  make  some  hour  less 
dreary. 

It  occupies  me  to  turn  back  regards 

On  what  I  've  seen  or  pondered,  sad  or  cheery ; 

And  what  I  write  I  cast  upon  the  stream, 

To  swim  or  sink — I  have  had  at  least  my  dream. 

XII. 

I  think  that  were  I  certain  of  success, 

I  hardly  could  compose  another  line  : 
So  long  I  've  battled  either  more  or  less, 

That  no  defeat  can  drive  me  from  the  Nine. 
This  feeling  't  is  not  easy  to  express, 

And  yet 't  is  not  affected,  I  opine. 
In  play,  there  are  two  pleasures  for  your  choosing — 
The  one  is  winning,  and  the  other  losing. 

XIII. 

Besides,  my  Muse  by  no  means  deals  in  fiction : 

She  gathers  a  repertory  of  facts, 
Of  course  with  some  reserve  and  slight  restriction, 

But  mostly  sings  of  human  things  and  acts — 
And  that 's  one  cause  she  meets  with  contradiction ; 

For  too  much  truth,  at  first  sight,  ne'er  attracts; 
And  were  her  object  only  what 's  called  Glory, 
With  more  ease  too  she  'd  tell  a  different  story. 

XIV. 

Love — War — a  tempest — surely  there  's  variety ; 

Also  a  seasoning  slight  of  lucubration ; 
A  bird's-eye  view,  too,  of  that  wild,  Society ; 

A  slight  glance  thrown  on  men  of  every  station. 
If  you  have  nought  else,  here  's  at  least  satiety, 

Both  in  performance  and  in  preparation ; 

i.        ["  But  why  then  publish  ?— Granville,  the  polite, 

And  knowing  Walsh,  would  tell  me  I  could  write." 

Pope,  Prologue  to  Satires,  lines  135,  136.] 


520  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

And  though  these  lines  should  only  line  portmanteaus, 
Trade  will  be  all  the  better  for  these  Cantos. 

xv. 
The  portion  of  this  World  which  I  at  present 

Have  taken  up  to  fill  the  following  sermon, 
Is  one  of  which  there  's  no  description  recent : 

The  reason  why  is  easy  to  determine  : 
Although  it  seems  both  prominent  and  pleasant, 

There  is  a  sameness  in  its  gems  and  ermine, 
A  dull  and  family  likeness  through  all  ages, 
Of  no  great  promise  for  poetic  pages. 

XVI. 

With  much  to  excite,  there  's  little  to  exalt ; 

Nothing  that  speaks  to  all  men  and  all  times ; 
A  sort  of  varnish  over  every  fault ; 

A  kind  of  common-place,  even  in  their  crimes  ; 
Factitious  passions — Wit  without  much  salt — 

A  want  of  that  true  nature  which  sublimes 
Whate'er  it  shows  with  Truth  ;  a  smooth  monotony 
Of  character,  in  those  at  least  who  have  got  any. 

XVII. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  like  soldiers  off  parade, 

They  break  their  ranks  and  gladly  leave  the  drill ; 

But  then  the  roll-call  draws  them  back  afraid, 
And  they  must  be  or  seem  what  they  were :  still 

Doubtless  it  is  a  brilliant  masquerade : 
But  when  of  the  first  sight  you  have  had  your  fill, 

It  palls — at  least  it  did  so  upon  me, 

This  paradise  of  Pleasure  and  Ennui. 

XVIII. 

When  we  have  made  our  love,  and  gamed  our  gaming, 
Dressed,  voted,  shone,  and,  may  be,  something  more — 

With  dandies  dined — heard  senators  declaiming — 
Seen  beauties  brought  to  market  by  the  score, 

Sad  rakes  to  sadder  husbands  chastely  taming — 
There  's  little  left  but  to  be  bored  or  bore. 

Witness  those  ci-devant  j en nes  homines  who  stem 

The  stream,  nor  leave  the  world  which  leaveth  them. 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  521 

XIX. 

'T  is  said  —  indeed  a  general  complaint  — 
That  no  one  has  succeeded  in  describing 

The  monde,  exactly  as  they  ought  to  paint  : 
Some  say,  that  authors  only  snatch,  by  bribing 

The  porter,  some  slight  scandals  strange  and  quaint, 
To  furnish  matter  for  their  moral  gibing  ; 

And  that  their  books  have  but  one  style  in  common  — 

My  Lady's  prattle,  filtered  through  her  woman. 

xx. 

But  this  can't  well  be  true,  just  now  ;  for  writers 
Are  grown  of  the  beau  monde  a  part  potential  : 

I  've  seen  them  balance  even  the  scale  with  fighters, 
Especially  when  young,  for  that  's  essential. 

Why  do  their  sketches  fail  them  as  inditers 
Of  what  they  deem  themselves  most  consequential, 

The  real  portrait  of  the  highest  tribe  ? 

'T  is  that  —  in  fact  —  there's  little  to  describe. 

XXI. 

"  Hand  ignara  loquor  ;  "  1  these  are  Nuga,  "  quarum 

Pars  parvafui"  but  still  art  and  part. 
Now  I  could  much  more  easily  sketch  a  harem, 

A  battle,  wreck,  or  history  of  the  heart, 
Than  these  things  ;  and  besides,  I  wish  to  spare  'em, 

For  reasons  which  I  choose  to  keep  apart. 
"  Vetabo  Cereris  sacrum  qui  vulgarit  "  —  2 
Which  means,  that  vulgar  people  must  not  share  it. 

XXII. 

And  therefore  what  I  throw  off  is  ideal  — 

Lowered,  leavened,  like  a  history  of  Freemasons, 

Which  bears  the  same  relation  to  the  real, 

As  Captain  Parry's  Voyage  may  do  to  Jason's. 

The  grand  Arcanum  's  not  for  men  to  see  all  ; 
My  music  has  some  mystic  diapasons  ; 

And  there  is  much  which  could  not  be  appreciated 

In  any  manner  by  the  uninitiated. 


1.  [Virg., 

2.  [Hor., 


^En.,  ii.  91  "  (Haud  ignota)  ;  "  et  ibid.,  line  6.] 
Od.  Hi.  2.  26.] 


522  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

XXIII. 

Alas  !  worlds  fall — and  Woman,  since  she  felled 
The  World  (as,  since  that  history,  less  polite 

Than  true,  hath  been  a  creed  so  strictly  held), 
Has  not  yet  given  up  the  practice  quite. 

Poor  Thing  of  Usages  1  coerced,  compelled, 
Victim  when  wrong,  and  martyr  oft  when  right, 

Condemned  to  child-bed,  as  men  for  their  sins 

Have  shaving  too  entailed  upon  their  chins, — 

XXIV. 

A  daily  plague,  which  in  the  aggregate 

May  average  on  the  whole  with  parturition. — 

But  as  to  women — who  can  penetrate 

The  real  sufferings  of  their  she  condition  ? 

Man's  very  sympathy  with  their  estate 

Has  much  of  selfishness,  and  more  suspicion. 

Their  love,  their  virtue,  beauty,  education, 

But  form  good  housekeepers — to  breed  a  nation. 

XXV. 

All  this  were  very  well,  and  can't  be  better; 

But  even  this  is  difficult,  Heaven  knows, 
So  many  troubles  from  her  birth  beset  her, 

Such  small  distinction  between  friends  and  foes ; 
The  gilding  wears  so  soon  from  off  her  fetter, 

That but  ask  any  woman  if  she  'd  choose 

(Take  her  at  thirty,  that  is)  to  have  been 
Female  or  male  ?  a  schoolboy  or  a  Queen  ? 

XXVI. 

"  Petticoat  Influence  "  is  a  great  reproach, 

Which  even  those  who  obey  would  fain  be  thought 

To  fly  from,  as  from  hungry  pikes  a  roach ; 

But  since  beneath  it  upon  earth  we  are  brought, 

By  various  joltings  of  Life's  hackney  coach, 
I  for  one  venerate  a  petticoat — 

A  garment  of  a  mystical  sublimity, 

No  matter  whether  russet,  silk,  or  dimity.1 

i.  And  though  by  no  means  overpowered  with  riches, 

Would  gladly  place  beneath  it  my  last  rag  ofbreeclies. — [MS.  erased.] 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  523 

XXVII. 

Much  I  respect,  and  much  I  have  adored, 

In  my  young  days,  that  chaste  and  goodly  veil, 

Which  holds  a  treasure,  like  a  miser's  hoard, 
And  more  attracts  by  all  it  doth  conceal — 

A  golden  scabbard  on  a  Damasque  sword, 
A  loving  letter  with  a  mystic  seal, 

A  cure  for  grief — for  what  can  ever  rankle 

Before  a  petticoat  and  peeping  ankle  ? 

XXVIII. 

And  when  upon  a  silent,  sullen  day, 
With  a  Sirocco,  for  example,  blowing, 

When  even  the  sea  looks  dim  with  all  its  spray, 
And  sulkily  the  river's  ripple  's  flowing, 

And  the  sky  shows  that  very  ancient  gray, 
The  sober,  sad  antithesis  to  glowing, — 

'T  is  pleasant,  if  then  anything  is  pleasant, 

To  catch  a  glimpse  even  of  a  pretty  peasant. 

XXIX. 

We  left  our  heroes  and  our  heroines 

In  that  fair  clime  which  don't  depend  on  climate, 
Quite  independent  of  the  Zodiac's  signs, 

Though  certainly  more  difficult  to  rhyme  at, 
Because  the  Sun,  and  stars,  and  aught  that  shines, 

Mountains,  and  all  we  can  be  most  sublime  at, 
Are  there  oft  dull  and  dreary  as  a  dun — 
Whether  a  sky's  or  tradesman's  is  all  one. 

XXX. 

An  in-door  life  is  less  poetical ; 

And  out-of-door  hath  showers,  and  mists,  and  sleet 
With  which  I  could  not  brew  a  pastoral : 

But  be  it  as  it  may,  a  bard  must  meet 
All  difficulties,  whether  great  or  small, 

To  spoil  his  undertaking,  or  complete — 
And  work  away — like  Spirit  upon  Matter — 
Embarrassed  somewhat  both  with  fire  and  water. 

XXXI. 

Juan — in  this  respect,  at  least,  like  saints — 
Was  all  things  unto  people  of  all  sorts, 


524  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

And  lived  contentedly,  without  complaints, 
In  camps,  in  ships,  in  cottages,  or  courts — 

Born  with  that  happy  soul  which  seldom  faints, 
And  mingling  modestly  in  toils  or  sports. 

He  likewise  could  be  most  things  to  all  women, 

Without  the  coxcombry  of  certain  she  men. 

XXXII. 

A  fox-hunt  to  a  foreigner  is  strange ; 

'T  is  also  subject  to  the  double  danger 
Of  tumbling  first,  and  having  in  exchange 

Some  pleasant  jesting  at  the  awkward  stranger : 
But  Juan  had  been  early  taught  to  range 

The  wilds,  as  doth  an  Arab  turned  avenger, 
So  that  his  horse,  or  charger,  hunter,  hack, 
Knew  that  he  had  a  rider  on  his  back. 

XXXIII. 

And  now  in  this  new  field,  with  some  applause, 
He  cleared  hedge,  ditch,  and  double  post,  and  rail, 

And  never  craned?-  and  made  but  few  "faux  pas? 
And  only  fretted  when  the  scent  'gan  fail. 

He  broke,  't  is  true,  some  statutes  of  the  laws 
Of  hunting — for  the  sagest  youth  is  frail ; 

Rode  o'er  the  hounds,  it  may  be,  now  and  then, 

And  once  o'er  several  Country  Gentlemen. 

xxxiv. 
But  on  the  whole,  to  general  admiration, 

He  acquitted  both  himself  and  horse  :  the  Squires 
Marvelled  at  merit  of  another  nation ; 

The  boors  cried   "  Dang   it !    who  'd   have   thought 

it?"— Sires, 

The  Nestors  of  the  sporting  generation, 
Swore  praises,  and  recalled  their  former  fires ; 

i.  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  imme- 
diately behind  the  equestrian  sceptic.  "Sir,  if  you  don't  choose  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. 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  525 

The  Huntsman's  self  relented  to  a  grin, 
And  rated  him  almost  a  whipper-in.1 

XXXV. 

Such  were  his  trophies — not  of  spear  and  shield, 

But  leaps,  and  bursts,  and  sometimes  foxes'  brushes ; 

Yet  I  must  own, — although  in  this  I  yield 
To  patriot  sympathy  a  Briton's  blushes, — 

He  thought  at  heart  like  courtly  Chesterfield, 
Who,  after  a  long  chase  o'er  hills,  dales,  bushes, 

And  what  not,  though  he  rode  beyond  all  price. 

Asked  next  day,  "  If  men  ever  hunted  twice  ?"  "• l 

xxxvi. 
He  also  had  a  quality  uncommon 

To  early  risers  after  a  long  chase, 
Who  wake  in  winter  ere  the  cock  can  summon 

December's  drowsy  day  to  his  dull  race, — 
A  quality  agreeable  to  Woman, 

When  her  soft,  liquid  words  run  on  apace, 
Who  likes  a  listener,  whether  Saint  or  Sinner, — 
He  did  not  fall  asleep  just  after  dinner ; 

XXXVII. 

But,  light  and  airy,  stood  on  the  alert, 

And  shone  in  the  best  part  of  dialogue, 
By  humouring  always  what  they  might  assert, 

And  listening  to  the  topics  most  in  vogue, 
Now  grave,  now  gay,  but  never  dull  or  pert ; 

And  smiling  but  in  secret — cunning  rogue  ! 
He  ne'er  presumed  to  make  an  error  clearer  ; — 
In  short,  there  never  was  a  better  hearer. 

i.    The  sulky  Huntsman  grimly  said  "  The  Frenchman 

Was  almost  worthy  to  become  his  henchman." — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.  And  what  not — though  he  had  ridden  like  a  Centaur 

When  called  next  day  declined  the  same  adventure. — [MS.] 

I.  [Mr.  W.  Ernst,  in  his  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  Lord  Chesterfield, 
1893  (p.  425,  note  2),  quotes  these  lines  in  connection  with  a  comparison 
between  French  and  English  sport,  contained  in  a  letter  from  Lord 
Chesterfield  to  his  son,  dated  June  30,  1751  :  "The  French  manner 
of  hunting  is  gentlemanlike;  ours  is  only  for  bumpkins  and  boobies." 
Elsewhere,  however  (The  World,  No.  92,  October  3,  1754),  comment- 
ing on  a  remark  of  Pascal's,  he  admits  "  that  the  jolly  sportsman  .  .  . 
improves  his  health,  at  least,  by  his  exercise."] 


526  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

XXXVIII. 

And  then  he  danced ; — all  foreigners  excel 

The  serious  Angles  in  the  eloquence 
Of  pantomime  ! — he  danced,  I  say,  right  well, 

With  emphasis,  and  also  with  good  sense — 
A  thing  in  footing  indispensable ; 

He  danced  without  theatrical  pretence, 
Not  like  a  ballet-master  in  the  van 
Of  his  drilled  nymphs,  but  like  a  gentleman. 

XXXIX. 

Chaste  were  his  steps,  each  kept  within  due  bound, 
And  Elegance  was  sprinkled  o'er  his  figure ; 

Like  swift  Camilla,  he  scarce  skimmed  the  ground,1 
And  rather  held  in  than  put  forth  his  vigour ; 

And  then  he  had  an  ear  for  Music's  sound, 
Which  might  defy  a  crotchet  critic's  rigour. 

Such  classic  pas — sans  flaws — set  off  our  hero, 

He  glanced  like  a  personified  Bolero ; 2 

XL. 
Or  like  a  flying  Hour  before  Aurora, 

In  Guide's  famous  fresco  3  (which  alone 
Is  worth  a  tour  to  Rome,  although  no  more  a 

Remnant  were  there  of  the  old  World's  sole  throne) : 
The  "  tout  ensemble"  of  his  movements  wore  a 

Grace  of  the  soft  Ideal,  seldom  shown, 
And  ne'er  to  be  described ;  for  to  the  dolour 
Of  bards  and  prosers,  words  are  void  of  colour. 

XLI. 

No  marvel  then  he  was  a  favourite ; 
A  full-grown  Cupid,4  very  much  admired ; 

1.  [".  .  .  as  she  skim m'd  along, 
Her  flying  feet  unbath'd  on  billows  hung." 

Dryden's  Virgil (Ain.,  vii.  noi,  1102).] 

2.  [See  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  492,  note  i.] 

3.  [Guide's   fresco  of  the  Aurora,  "scattering  flowers  before  the 
chariot  of  the  sun "  is  on  a  ceiling  of  the  Casino  in  the   Palazzo 
Rospigliosi,  in  Rome.] 

4.  [Byron  described  Count  Alfred  D'Orsay  as  having  ' '  all  the  airs 
of  a  Cupidon  dichainl"    See  letters  to  Moore  and  the  Earl  of  Blessing- 
ton,  April  2,  1823,  Letters,  1901,  vi.  180,  185.] 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  527 

A  little  spoilt,  but  by  no  means  so  quite ; 

At  least  he  kept  his  vanity  retired. 
Such  was  his  tact,  he  could  alike  delight 

The  chaste,  and  those  who  are  not  so  much  inspired. 
The  Duchess  of  Fitz-Fulke,  who  loved  tracasserie^ 
Began  to  treat  him  with  some  small  agacerie. 

XLII. 
She  was  a  fine  and  somewhat  full-blown  blonde, 

Desirable,  distinguished,  celebrated 
For  several  winters  in  the  grand,  grand  Monde; 

I  'd  rather  not  say  what  might  be  related 
Of  her  exploits,  for  this  were  ticklish  ground ; 

Besides  there  might  be  falsehood  in  what 's  stated  : 
Her  late  performance  had  been  a  dead  set 
At  Lord  Augustus  Fitz-Plantagenet. 

XLIII. 
This  noble  personage  began  to  look 

A  little  black  upon  this  new  flirtation  ; 
But  such  small  licences  must  lovers  brook, 

Mere  freedoms  of  the  female  corporation. 
Woe  to  the  man  who  ventures  a  rebuke  ! 

'T  will  but  precipitate  a  situation 
Extremely  disagreeable,  but  common 
To  calculators  when  they  count  on  Woman. 

XLIV. 
The  circle  smiled,  then  whispered,  and  then  sneered ; 

The  misses  bridled,  and  the  matrons  frowned ; 
Some  hoped  things  might  not  turn  out  as  they  feared ; 

Some  would  not  deem  such  women  could  be  found  ; 
Some  ne'er  believed  one  half  of  what  they  heard ; 

Some  looked  perplexed,  and  others  looked  profound  : 
And  several  pitied  with  sincere  regret 
Poor  Lord  Augustus  Fitz-Plantagenet. 

XLV. 
But  what  is  odd,  none  ever  named  the  Duke, 

Who,  one  might  think,  was  something  in  the  affair  : 
True,  he  was  absent,  and,  't  was  rumoured,  took 

But  small  concern  about  the  when,  or  where, 


528  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

Or  what  his  consort  did  :  if  he  could  brook 

Her  gaieties,  none  had  a  right  to  stare  : 
Theirs  was  that  best  of  unions,  past  all  doubt, 
Which  never  meets,  and  therefore  can't  fall  out. 

XLVI. 
But,  oh  !  that  I  should  ever  pen  so  sad  a  line  ! 

Fired  with  an  abstract  love  of  Virtue,  she, 
My  Dian  of  the  Ephesians,  Lady  Adeline, 

Began  to  think  the  Duchess'  conduct  free  ; 
Regretting  much  that  she  had  chosen  so  bad  a  line, 

And  waxing  chiller  in  her  courtesy, 
Looked  grave  and  pale  to  see  her  friend's  fragility, 
For  which  most  friends  reserve  their  sensibility. 

XLVII. 
There  's  nought  in  this  bad  world  like  sympathy  : 

'T  is  so  becoming  to  the  soul  and  face, 
Sets  to  soft  music  the  harmonious  sigh, 

And  robes  sweet  Friendship  in  a  Brussels  lace. 
Without  a  friend,  what  were  Humanity, 

To  hunt  our  errors  up  with  a  good  grace  ? 
Consoling  us  with — "  Would  you  had  thought  twice  ! 
Ah  !  if  you  had  but  followed  my  advice  ! " 

XLVIII. 
O  Job  !  you  had  two  friends  :  one  's  quite  enough, 

Especially  when  we  are  ill  at  ease  ; 
They  're  but  bad  pilots  when  the  weather  's  rough, 

Doctors  less  famous  for  their  cures  than  fees. 
Let  no  man  grumble  when  his  friends  fall  off, 

As  they  will  do  like  leaves  at  the  first  breeze  : 
When  your  affairs  come  round,  one  way  or  t  'other, 
Go  to  the  coffee-house,  and  take  another.1 

i.  In  Swift's  or  Horace  Walpole's  letters  I  think  it  is  mentioned 
that  somebody,  regretting  the  loss  of  a  friend,  was  answered  by  an 
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."—"Lof//  What  at?  Quinze  or  Hazard?"  was  the  conso- 
latory rejoinder  of  the  querist. 

[The  dramatis  persona  are  probably  Sir  William  Drummond  (1770- 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  529 

XLIX. 

But  this  is  not  my  maxim :  had  it  been, 

Some  heart-aches  had  been  spared  me :  yet  I  care 

not — 
I  would  not  be  a  tortoise  in  his  screen 

Of  stubborn  shell,  which  waves  and  weather  wear  not : 
'T  is  better  on  the  whole  to  have  felt  and  seen 

That  which  Humanity  may  bear,  or  bear  not : 
'T  will  teach  discernment  to  the  sensitive, 
And  not  to  pour  their  Ocean  in  a  sieve. 

L. 
Of  all  the  horrid,  hideous  notes  of  woe, 

Sadder  than  owl-songs  or  the  midnight  blast, 
Is  that  portentous  phrase,  "  I  told  you  so," 

Uttered  by  friends,  those  prophets  of  the  past, 
Who,  'stead  of  saying  what  you  now  should  do, 

Own  they  foresaw  that  you  would  fall  at  last,'' 
And  solace  your  slight  lapse  'gainst  bonos  mores, 
With  a  long  memorandum  of  old  stories. 

LI. 
The  Lady  Adeline's  serene  severity 

Was  not  confined  to  feeling  for  her  friend, 
Whose  fame  she  rather  doubted  with  posterity, 

Unless  her  habits  should  begin  to  mend : 
But  Juan  also  shared  in  her  austerity, 

But  mixed  with  pity,  pure  as  e'er  was  penned  . 
His  Inexperience  moved  her  gentle  ruth, 
And  (as  her  junior  by  six  weeks)  his  Youth. 

LII. 
These  forty  days'  advantage  of  her  years — 

And  hers  were  those  which  can  face  calculation, 
Boldly  referring  to  the  list  of  Peers 

And  noble  births,  nor  dread  the  enumeration — 
Gave  her  a  right  to  have  maternal  fears 

For  a  young  gentleman's  fit  education, 

i.   They  own  that  you  are  fairly  dislied  at  last. — {MS.  erased.] 

1828),  author  of  the  Academical  Questions,  etc.,  and  Francis  Hare,  the 
wit,  known  as  the  "'Silent  Hare,'  from  his  extreme  loquacity." — 
Gronow's  Reminiscences,  1889,  ii.  98-101.] 

VOL.  VI.  2   M 


53°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

Though  she  was  far  from  that  leap  year,  whose  leap, 
In  female  dates,  strikes  Time  all  of  a  heap. 

tin. 
This  may  be  fixed  at  somewhere  before  thirty — 

Say  seven-and-twenty ;  for  I  never  knew 
The  strictest  in  chronology  and  virtue 

Advance  beyond,  while  they  could  pass  for  new. 
O  Time  !  why  dost  not  pause  ?    Thy  scythe,  so  dirty 

With  rust,  should  surely  cease  to  hack  and  hew  : 
Reset  it — shave  more  smoothly,  also  slower, 
If  but  to  keep  thy  credit  as  a  mower. 

LIV. 
But  Adeline  was  far  from  that  ripe  age, 

Whose  ripeness  is  but  bitter  at  the  best : 
'T  was  rather  her  Experience  made  her  sage, 

For  she  had  seen  the  World  and  stood  its  test, 
As  I  have  said  in — I  forget  what  page ; 

My  Muse  despises  reference,  as  you  have  guessed 
By  this  time ; — but  strike  six  from  seven-and-twenty, 
And  you  will  find  her  sum  of  years  in  plenty. 

LV. 
At  sixteen  she  came  out ;  presented,  vaunted, 

She  put  all  coronets  into  commotion  : 
At  seventeen,  too,  the  World  was  still  enchanted 

With  the  new  Venus  of  their  brilliant  Ocean  : 
At  eighteen,  though  below  her  feet  still  panted 

A  Hecatomb  of  suitors  with  devotion, 
She  had  consented  to  create  again 
That  Adam,  called  "  The  happiest  of  Men." 

LVI. 

Since  then  she  had  sparkled    through   three  glowing 
winters, 

Admired,  adored ;  but  also  so  correct, 
That  she  had  puzzled  all  the  acutest  hinters, 

Without  the  apparel  of  being  circumspect : 
They  could  not  even  glean  the  slightest  splinters 

From  off  the  marble,  which  had  no  defect. 
She  had  also  snatched  a  moment  since  her  marriage 
To  bear  a  son  and  heir — and  one  miscarriage. 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  531 

LVII. 

Fondly  the  wheeling  fire-flies  flew  around  her, 
Those  little  glitterers  of  the  London  night ; 

But  none  of  these  possessed  a  sting  to  wound  her — 
She  was  a  pitch  beyond  a  coxcomb's  flight. 

Perhaps  she  wished  an  aspirant  profounder; 
But  whatsoe'er  she  wished,  she  acted  right ; 

And  whether  Coldness,  Pride,  or  Virtue  dignify 

A  Woman — so  she  's  good — what  does  it  signify  ? 

LVIII. 
I  hate  a  motive,  like  a  lingering  bottle 

Which  with  the  landlord  makes  too  long  a  stand, 
Leaving  all-claretless  the  unmoistened  throttle, 

Especially  with  politics  on  hand ; 
I  hate  it,  as  I  hate  a  drove  of  cattle, 

Who  whirl  the  dust  as  Simooms  whirl  the  sand  j 
I  hate  it  as  I  hate  an  argument, 
A  Laureate's  Ode,  or  servile  Peer's  "  Content." 

LIX. 
'T  is  sad  to  hack  into  the  roots  of  things, 

They  are  so  much  intertwisted  with  the  earth ; 
So  that  the  branch  a  goodly  verdure  flings, 

I  reck  not  if  an  acorn  gave  it  birth. 
To  trace  all  actions  to  their  secret  springs 

Would  make  indeed  some  melancholy  mirth  : 
But  this  is  not  at  present  my  concern, 
And  I  refer  you  to  wise  Oxenstiern.1 

LX. 

With  the  kind  view  of  saving  an  eclat, 
Both  to  the  Duchess  and  Diplomatist, 

i.  The  famous  Chancellor  [Axel  Oxenstiern  (1583-1654)]  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." 

[The  story  is  that  his  son  John,  who  had  been  sent  to  represent  him 
at  the  Congress  of  Westphalia,  1648,  wrote  home  to  complain  that 
the  task  was  beyond  him,  and  that  he  could  not  cope  with  the  difficulties 
which  he  was  encountering,  and  that  the  Chancellor  replied,  ' '  Nescis, 
mi  fili,  quantilla  prudentia  homines  regantur." — Biographic  Universelle, 
art.  "Oxenstierna."] 


532  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

The  Lady  Adeline,  as  soon  's  she  saw 

That  Juan  was  unlikely  to  resist — 
(For  foreigners  don't  know  that  a  faux  pas 

In  England  ranks  quite  on  a  different  list 
From  those  of  other  lands  unblest  with  juries. 
Whose  verdict  for  such  sin  a  certain  cure  is  ; — )  '• 

LXI. 

The  Lady  Adeline  resolved  to  take 

Such  measures  as  she  thought  might  best  impede 
The  farther  progress  of  this  sad  mistake. 

She  thought  with  some  simplicity  indeed  ; 
But  Innocence  is  bold  even  at  the  stake, 

And  simple  in  the  World,  and  doth  not  need 
Nor  use  those  palisades  by  dames  erected, 
Whose  virtue  lies  in  never  being  detected. 

LXII. 

It  was  not  that  she  feared  the  very  worst : 
His  Grace  was  an  enduring,  married  man, 

And  was  not  likely  all  at  once  to  burst 
Into  a  scene,  and  swell  the  clients'  clan 

Of  Doctors'  Commons ;  but  she  dreaded  first 
The  magic  of  her  Grace's  talisman, 

And  next  a  quarrel  (as  he  seemed  to  fret) 

With  Lord  Augustus  Fitz-Plantagenet. 

LXIII. 
Her  Grace,  too,  passed  for  being  an  intrigante, 

And  somewhat  mechanic  in  her  amorous  sphere ; 
One  of  those  pretty,  precious  plagues,  which  haunt 

A  lover  with  caprices  soft  and  dear, 
That  like  to  make  a  quarrel,  when  they  can't 

Find  one,  each  day  of  the  delightful  year  : 
Bewitching,  torturing,  as  they  freeze  or  glow, 
And — what  is  worst  of  all — won't  let  you  go  : 

LXIV. 

The  sort  of  thing  to  turn  a  young  man's  head, 
Or  make  a  Werter  of  him  in  the  end. 

i.    Who  are  our  sureties  that  our  moral  pure  is. — [MS.  erased.] 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  533 

No  wonder  then  a  purer  soul  should  dread 
This  sort  of  chaste  liaison  for  a  friend ; 

It  were  much  better  to  be  wed  or  dead, 
Than  wear  a  heart  a  Woman  loves  to  rend. 

'T  is  best  to  pause,  and  think,  ere  you  rush  on, 

If  that  a  bonne  fortune  be  really  bonne. 

LXV. 

And  first,  in  the  overflowing  of  her  heart, 

Which  really  knew  or  thought  it  knew  no  guile, 

She  called  her  husband  now  and  then  apart, 
And  bade  him  counsel  Juan.     With  a  smile 

Lord  Henry  heard  her  plans  of  artless  art 
To  wean  Don  Juan  from  the  Siren's  wile ; 

And  answered,  like  a  statesman  or  a  prophet, 

In  such  guise  that  she  could  make  nothing  of  it. 

LXVI. 
Firstly,  he  said,  "  he  never  interfered 

In  anybody's  business  but  the  King's  : " 
Next,  that  "  he  never  judged  from  what  appeared, 

Without  strong  reason,  of  those  sort  of  things  :  " 
Thirdly,  that  "  Juan  had  more  brain  than  beard, 

And  was  not  to  be  held  in  leading  strings  ;  " 
And  fourthly,  what  need  hardly  be  said  twice, 
"  That  good  but  rarely  came  from  good  advice." 

LXVI  I. 

And,  therefore,  doubtless  to  approve  the  truth 
Of  the  last  axiom,  he  advised  his  spouse 

To  leave  the  parties  to  themselves,  forsooth — 
At  least  as  far  as  bienseance  allows  :  '• 

That  time  would  temper  Juan's  faults  of  youth  ; 
That  young  men  rarely  made  monastic  vows ; 

That  Opposition  only  more  attaches — 

But  here  a  messenger  brought  in  despatches  : 

LXVIII. 

And  being  of  the  council  called  "  the  Privy," 
Lord  Henry  walked  into  his  cabinet, 

i.  And  not  to  encourage  whispering  in  the  house. — [MS,  erased.] 


534  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

To  furnish  matter  for  some  future  Livy 
To  tell  how  he  reduced  the  Nation's  debt ; 

And  if  their  full  contents  I  do  not  give  ye, 
It  is  because  I  do  not  know  them  yet ; 

But  I  shall  add  them  in  a  brief  appendix, 

To  come  between  mine  Epic  and  its  index. 

LXIX. 

But  ere  he  went,  he  added  a  slight  hint, 
Another  gentle  common-place  or  two, 

Such  as  are  coined  in  Conversation's  mint, 
And  pass,  for  want  of  better,  though  not  new  : 

Then  broke  his  packet,  to  see  what  was  in  't, 
And  having  casually  glanced  it  through, 

Retired  :  and,  as  he  went  out,  calmly  kissed  her, 

Less  like  a  young  wife  than  an  agdd  sister. 

LXX. 
He  was  a  cold,  good,  honourable  man, 

Proud  of  his  birth,  and  proud  of  everything ; 
A  goodly  spirit  for  a  state  Divan, 

A  figure  fit  to  walk  before  a  King ; 
Tall,  stately,  formed  to  lead  the  courtly  van 

On  birthdays,  glorious  with  a  star  and  string  ; 
The  very  model  of  a  chamberlain — 
And  such  I  mean  to  make  him  when  I  reign. 

LXXI. 
But  there  was  something  wanting  on  the  whole — 

I  don't  know  what,  and  therefore  cannot  tell — 
Which  pretty  women — the  sweet  souls  ! — call  soul. 

Certes  it  was  not  body ;  he  was  well 
Proportioned,  as  a  poplar  or  a  pole, 

A  handsome  man,  that  human  miracle ; 
And  in  each  circumstance  of  Love  or  War 
Had  still  preserved  his  perpendicular. 

LXXII. 
Still  there  was  something  wanting,  as  I  've  said — 

That  undefinable  "Je  ne  sfais  quoi" 
Which,  for  what  I  know,  may  of  yore  have  led 

To  Homer's  Iliad,  since  it  drew  to  Troy 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  535 

The  Greek  Eve,  Helen,  from  the  Spartan's  bed  ; 

Though  on  the  whole,  no  doubt,  the  Dardan  boy 
Was  much  inferior  to  King  Menelaiis : — 
But  thus  it  is  some  women  will  betray  us. 

LXXIII. 
There  is  an  awkward  thing  which  much  perplexes, 

Unless  like  wise  Tiresias  l  we  had  proved 
By  turns  the  difference  of  the  several  sexes  ; 

Neither  can  show  quite  Jww  they  would  be  loved. 
The  Sensual  for  a  short  time  but  connects  us — 

The  Sentimental  boasts  to  be  unmoved ; 
But  both  together  form  a  kind  of  Centaur, 
Upon  whose  back  't  is  better  not  to  venture. 

LXXIV. 
A  something  all-sufficient  for  the  heart 

Is  that  for  which  the  sex  are  always  seeking : 
But  how  to  fill  up  that  same  vacant  part  ? 

There  lies  the  rub — and  this  they  are  but  weak  in. 
Frail  mariners  afloat  without  a  chart, 

They  run  before  the  wind  through  high  seas  breaking ; 
And  when  they  have  made  the  shore  through  every  shock, 
'T  is  odd — or  odds — it  may  turn  out  a  rock. 

LXXV. 
There  is  a  flower  called  "  Love  in  Idleness,"  2 

For  which  see  Shakespeare's  ever-blooming  garden ; — 
I  will  not  make  his  great  description  less, 

And  beg  his  British  godship's  humble  pardon, 

1.  [Once  upon  a  time,  Tiresias,  who  was  shepherding  on  Mount 
Cyllene,  wantonly  stamped  with  his  heel  on  a  pair  of  snakes,  and  was 
straightway  turned   into  a  woman.      Seven  years  later  he  was  led  to 
treat  another  pair  of  snakes  in  like  fashion,  and,  happily  or  otherwise, 
was  turned  back  into  a  man.     Hence,  when  Jupiter  and  Juno  fell  to 
wrangling  on  the  comparative   enjoyments  of  men   and  women,  the 
question  was  referred  to  Tiresias,  as  a  person  of  unusual  experience  and 
authority.     He  gave  it  in  favour  of  the  woman,  and  Juno,  who  was 
displeased  at  his  answer,  struck  him  with  blindness.     But  Jupiter,  to 
make  amends,  gave  him  the  "liberty  of  prophesying  "  for  seven,  some 
say  nine,  generations.     (See  Ovid,   Metam.,  iii.   320;  and  Thomas 
Muncker's  notes  on  the  Fabulce  of  Hyginus,  No.  Ixxv.  ed.  1681,  pp. 
126-128.)] 

2.  [Midsummer  Night s  Dream,  act  ii.  sc.  i,  line  168.] 


536  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

If,  in  my  extremity  of  rhyme's  distress, 

I  touch  a  single  leaf  where  he  is  warden  ; — 
But,  though  the  flower  is  different,  with  the  French 
Or  Swiss  Rousseau — cry  "  Voila  la  Pervenche  !  "  x 

LXXVI. 
Eureka  !     I  have  found  it !     What  I  mean 

To  say  is,  not  that  Love  is  Idleness, 
But  that  in  Love  such  idleness  has  been 

An  accessory,  as  I  have  cause  to  guess. 
Hard  Labour  's  an  indifferent  go-between  ; 

Your  men  of  business  are  not  apt  to  express 
Much  passion,  since  the  merchant-ship,  the  Argo, 
Conveyed  Medea  as  her  supercargo. 

LXXVII. 
"  Beatus  ilk  procul !  "  from  "  negotiis?  2 

Saith  Horace ;  the  great  little  poet 's  wrong  ; 
His  other  maxim,  "  Nosritur  a  sociis, 3 

Is  much  more  to  the  purpose  of  his  song ; 
Though  even  that  were  sometimes  too  ferocious, 

Unless  good  company  be  kept  too  long ; 
But,  in  his  teeth,  whate'er  their  state  or  station, 
Thrice  happy  they  who  have  an  occupation  ! 

LXXVIII. 
Adam  exchanged  his  Paradise  for  ploughing, 

Eve  made  up  millinery  with  fig  leaves — 
The  earliest  knowledge  from  the  Tree  so  knowing, 

As  far  as  I  know,  that  the  Church  receives : 
And  since  that  time  it  need  not  cost  much  showing, 

That  many  of  the  ills  o'er  which  Man  grieves, 
And  still  more  Women,  spring  from  not  employing 
Some  hours  to  make  the  remnant  worth  enjoying. 

LXXIX. 

And  hence  high  life  is  oft  a  dreary  void, 
A  rack  of  pleasures,  where  we  must  invent 

i.  See  La  Nouvelle  H flense. 
z.  Hor. ,  Epod.,  II.  line  i. 

3.  [The   Latin    proverb,   Noscitur  ex  sociis,   is   not    an   Horatian 
maxim.] 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  537 

A  something  wherewithal  to  be  annoyed. 

Bards  may  sing  what  they  please  about  Content  ; 
Contented,  when  translated,  means  but  cloyed ; 

And  hence  arise  the  woes  of  Sentiment, 
Blue-devils — and  Blue-stockings — and  Romances 
Reduced  to  practice,  and  performed  like  dances. 

LXXX. 

I  do  declare,  upon  an  affidavit, 

Romances  I  ne'er  read  like  those  I  have  seen ; 
Nor,  if  unto  the  World  I  ever  gave  it, 

Would  some  believe  that  such  a  tale  had  been  : 
But  such  intent  I  never  had,  nor  have  it ; 

Some  truths  are  better  kept  behind  a  screen, 
Especially  when  they  would  look  like  lies  ; 
I  therefore  deal  in  generalities.'1 

LXXXI. 

"  An  oyster  may  be  crossed  in  love  "  l — and  why  ? 

Because  he  mopeth  idly  in  his  shell, 
And  heaves  a  lonely  subterraqueous  sigh, 

Much  as  a  monk  may  do  within  his  cell : 
And  ci-propos  of  monks,  their  Piety 

With  Sloth  hath  found  it  difficult  to  dwell : 
Those  vegetables  of  the  Catholic  creed 
Are  apt  exceedingly  to  run  to  seed. 

LXXXII. 

O  Wilberforce  !  thou  man  of  black  renown, 
Whose  merit  none  enough  can  sing  or  say, 

Thou  hast  struck  one  immense  Colossus  down, 
Thou  moral  Washington  of  Africa  ! 

But  there  's  another  little  thing,  I  own, 

Which  you  should  perpetrate  some  summer's  day, 

And  set  the  other  half  of  Earth  to  rights ; 

You    have  freed  the    blacks — now  pray  shut    up    the 
whites. 

i.  /,  therefore,  deal  in  generals — which  is  wise. — [MS.  erased.] 
i.  [See  Sheridan's  Critic  ("Tilburina"  log.),  act  iii.  s./.] 


538  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

LXXXIII. 
Shut  up  the  bald-coot l  bully  Alexander  ! 

Ship  off  the  Holy  Three  to  Senegal ; 
Teach  them  that  "  sauce  for  goose  is  sauce  for  gander," 

And  ask  them  how  they  like  to  be  in  thrall  ? 
Shut  up  each  high  heroic  Salamander, 

Who  eats  fire  gratis  (since  the  pay  's  but  small) ; 
Shut  up — no,  not  the  King,  but  the  Pavilion,2 
Or  else  't  will  cost  us  all  another  million. 

LXXXIV. 

Shut  up  the  World  at  large,  let  Bedlam  out ; 

And  you  will  be  perhaps  surprised  to  find 
All  things  pursue  exactly  the  same  route, 

As  now  with  those  of  soi-disant  sound  mind. 
This  I  could  prove  beyond  a  single  doubt, 

Were  there  a  jot  of  sense  among  Mankind ; 
But  till  that/0//z/  (Fappui  is  found,  alas  ! 
Like  Archimedes,  I  leave  Earth  as  't  was. 

LXXXV. 

Our  gentle  Adeline  had  one  defect — 

Her  heart  was  vacant,  though  a  splendid  mansion ; 
Her  conduct  had  been  perfectly  correct, 

As  she  had  seen  nought  claiming  its  expansion. 
A  wavering  spirit  may  be  easier  wrecked, 

Because  't  is  frailer,  doubtless,  than  a  staunch  one ; 
But  when  the  latter  works  its  own  undoing, 
Its  inner  crash  is  like  an  Earthquake's  ruin. 

LXXXVI. 
She  loved  her  Lord,  or  thought  so ;  but  that  love 

Cost  her  an  effort,  which  is  a  sad  toil, 
The  stone  of  Sisyphus,  if  once  we  move 

Our  feelings  'gainst  the  nature  of  the  soil. 
She  had  nothing  to  complain  of,  or  reprove, 

No  bickerings,  no  connubial  turmoil : 
Their  union  was  a  model  to  behold, 
Serene  and  noble, — conjugal,  but  cold. 

i.  [For  "the  coxcomb  Czar  .  .  .  the  somewhat  age'd  youth,"  see 
The  Age  of  Bronze,  lines  434-483,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  563,  note  i.] 
z.  [Compare  Sardanapalus,  act  i.  sc.  2,  line  i,  ibid.,  p.  15,  note  i.] 


CANTO  XIV.] 


DON   JUAN. 


539 


LXXXVII. 

There  was  no  great  disparity  of  years, 

Though  much  in  temper ;  but  they  never  clashed : 
They  moved  like  stars  united  in  their  spheres, 

Or  like  the  Rhone  by  Leman's  waters  washed, 
Where  mingled  and  yet  separate  appears 

The  River  from  the  Lake,  all  bluely  dashed 
Through  the  serene  and  placid  glassy  deep, 
Which  fain  would  lull  its  river-child  to  sleep.1 

LXXXVIII. 
Now  when  she  once  had  ta'en  an  interest 

In  anything,  however  she  might  flatter 
Herself  that  her  intentions  were  the  best, 

Intense  intentions  are  a  dangerous  matter : 
Impressions  were  much  stronger  than  she  guessed, 

And  gathered  as  they  run  like  growing  water 
Upon  her  mind ;  the  more  so,  as  her  breast 
Was  not  at  first  too  readily  impressed. 

LXXXIX. 
But  when  it  was,  she  had  that  lurking  Demon 

Of  double  nature,  and  thus  doubly  named — 
Firmness  yclept  in  Heroes,  Kings,  and  seamen, 

That  is,  when  they  succeed ;  but  greatly  blamed 
As  Obstinacy ',  both  in  Men  and  Women, 

Whene'er  their  triumph  pales,  or  star  is  tamed : — 
And  't  will  perplex  the  casuist  in  morality 
To  fix  the  due  bounds  of  this  dangerous  quality. 

xc. 
Had  Buonaparte  won  at  Waterloo, 

It  had  been  firmness ;  now  't  is  pertinacity : 
Must  the  event  decide  between  the  two  ? 

I  leave  it  to  your  people  of  sagacity 
To  draw  the  line  between  the  false  and  true, 

If  such  can  e'er  be  drawn  by  Man's  capacity  : 
My  business  is  with  Lady  Adeline, 
Who  in  her  way  too  was  a  heroine. 

i.  [Compare  Childe  Harold,  Canto  III.  stanza  Ixxi.  line  3,  Poetical 
Works,  1899,  ii.  261,  300,  note  17.] 


54°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

xci. 
She  knew  not  her  own  heart ;  then  how  should  I  ? 

I  think  not  she  was  then  in  love  with  Juan : 
If  so,  she  would  have  had  the  strength  to  fly 

The  wild  sensation,  unto  her  a  new  one  : 
She  merely  felt  a  common  sympathy 

(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. 

xcn. 
She  was,  or  thought  she  was,  his  friend — and  this 

Without  the  farce  of  Friendship,  or  romance 
Of  Platonism,  which  leads  so  oft  amiss 

Ladies  who  have  studied  Friendship  but  in  France 
Or  Germany,  where  people  purely  kiss.L 

To  thus  much  Adeline  would  not  advance ; 
But  of  such  friendship  as  Man's  may  to  Man  be 
She  was  as  capable  as  Woman  can  be. 

XCIII. 

No  doubt  the  secret  influence  of  the  Sex 

Will  there,  as  also  in  the  ties  of  blood, 
An  innocent  predominance  annex, 

And  tune  the  concord  to  a  finer  mood."' 
If  free  from  Passion,  which  all  Friendship  checks, 

And  your  true  feelings  fully  understood, 
No  friend  like  to  a  woman  Earth  discovers, 
So  that  you  have  not  been  nor  will  be  lovers. 

xciv. 
Love  bears  within  its  breast  the  very  germ 

Of  Change ;  and  how  should  this  be  otherwise  ? 
That  violent  things  more  quickly  find  a  term 

Is  shown  through  Nature's  whole  analogies  ; * 

i.  Or  Germany — she  knew  nought  of  all  this 

Impracticable,  novel-reading  trance. — [MS.  erased.] 

ii.  Even  there — as  in  relationship  will  hold. 

And  make  the  feeling  of  a  finer  mood. — [MS.  erased.] 

I.  ["These  violent  delights  have  violent  ends, 

And  in  their  triumph  die." 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  act  ii.  sc.  6,  lines  9,  10.] 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  541 

And  how  should  the  most  fierce  of  all  be  firm  ? 

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.'- 
I  've  also  seen  some  wives  (not  to  forget 

The  marriage  state,  the  best  or  worst  of  any) 
Who  were  the  very  paragons  of  wives, 
Yet  made  the  misery  of  at  least  two  lives."- 

xcvi. 
I  've  also  seen  some  female  friends1  ('t  is  odd,"1' 

But  true — as,  if  expedient,  I  could  prove) 
That  faithful  were  through  thick  and  thin,  abroad,'v" 

At  home,  far  more  than  ever  yet  was  Love — • 
Who  did  not  quit  me  when  Oppression  trod 

Upon  me ;  whom  no  scandal  could  remove ; 
Who  fought,  and  fight,  in  absence,  too,  my  battles, 
Despite  the  snake  Society's  loud  rattles. 

xcvn. 

Whether  Don  Juan  and  chaste  Adeline 
Grew  friends  in  this  or  any  other  sense, 

i.  Alas  I  I  quote  experience. — seldom  yet 

I  had  a  paramour — and  I  've  had  many — 
Whom  I  had  not  some  reason  to  regret — 

For  whom  I  did  not  make  myself  a  Zany. — [71/5.] 
ii.  /  also  had  a  wife — not  to  forget 

The  marriage  state — the  best  or  worst  of  any, 
Who  was  the  very  paragon  of  wives 
(•many     ~\ 
Vet  made  the  misery  of '  \  both  our  >  lives. — [MS.  erased.] 

\several  J 
iii.  /  also  had  some  female  friends — by  G — d! 

Or  if  the  oath  seem  strong — /  swear  by  Jove  ! — [MS.] 
iv.    Who  stuck  to  me . — [MS.  erased '.] 

i.  [Lady  Holland,  Lady  Jersey,  Madame  de  Stael,  and  before  and 
above  all,  his  sister,  Mrs.  Leigh.] 


542  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xiv. 

Will  be  discussed  hereafter,  I  opine  : 

At  present  I  am  glad  of  a  pretence 
To  leave  them  hovering,  as  the  effect  is  fine, 

And  keeps  the  atrocious  reader  in  suspense  ; 
The  surest  way — for  ladies  and  for  books — 
To  bait  their  tender — or  their  tenter — hooks. 

XCVIII. 

Whether  they  rode,  or  walked,  or  studied  Spanish, 

To  read  Don  Quixote  in  the  original, 
A  pleasure  before  which  all  others  vanish ; 

Whether  their  talk  was  of  the  kind  called  "  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 

Anticipating  aught  about  the  matter : 
They  '11  only  make  mistakes  about  the  fair, 

And  Juan,  too,  especially  the  latter. 
And  I  shall  take  a  much  more  serious  air 

Than  I  have  yet  done,  in  this  Epic  Satire. 
It  is  not  clear  that  Adeline  and  Juan 
Will  fall;  but  if  they  do,  't  will  be  their  ruin. 

c. 

But  great  things  spring  from  little : — Would  you  think, 
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  ? 

You  '11  never  guess,  I  '11  bet  you  millions,  milliards 1 — 

It  all  sprung  from  a  harmless  game  at  billiards. 

ci. 

'T  is  strange, — but  true ;  for  Truth  is  always  strange — 
Stranger  than  fiction  :  if  it  could  be  told, 

i.  [Byron  must  have  been  among  the  first  to  naturalize  the  French 
milliard  (a  thousand  millions),  which  was  used  by  Voltaire.] 


CANTO  XIV.]  DON   JUAN.  543 

How  much  would  novels  gain  by  the  exchange  ! 

How  differently  the  World  would  men  behold  ! 
How  oft  would  Vice  and  Virtue  places  change  ! 

The  new  world  would  be  nothing  to  the  old, 
If  some  Columbus  of  the  moral  seas 
Would  show  mankind  their  Souls'  antipodes. 

en. 
What  "  antres  vast  and  deserts  idle,"  x  then, 

Would  be  discovered  in  the  human  soul ! 
What  icebergs  in  the  hearts  of  mighty  men, 

With  self-love  in  the  centre  as  their  Pole  ! 
What  Anthropophagi  are  nine  of  ten 

Of  those  who  hold  the  kingdoms  in  control ! 
Were  things  but  only  called  by  their  right  name, 
Cassar  himself  would  be  ashamed  of  Fame.2 

1.  \Othello,  act  i.  sc.  3,  line  140.] 

2.  B.  March  4"*  1823.—  [MS.] 


544  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 


CANTO   THE    FIFTEENTH. 


AH  ! — What  should  follow  slips  from  my  reflection ; 

Whatever  follows  ne'ertheless  may  be 
As  a-propos  of  Hope  or  Retrospection, 

As  though  the  lurking  thought  had  followed  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  "  Pooh  ! " 
Of  which  perhaps  the  latter  is  most  true. 

n. 
But,  more  or  less,  the  whole  's  a  Syncopd 

Or  a  Singulfus — emblems  of  Emotion, 
The  grand  Antithesis  to  great  JEnnui, 

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.1 

in. 

But  all  are  better  than  the  sigh  suppressed, 
Corroding  in  the  cavern  of  the  heart, 

i.  [It  is  impossible  to  persuade  the  metaphor  to  march  "on  all- 
fours, '\but,  to  drag  it  home,  by  a  kind  of  ' '  frog's  march,"  the  unfulfilled 
wants  of  the  soul,  the  "lurking  thoughts"  are  as  it  were  bubbles, 
which  we  would  fain  "break  on  the  invisible  Ocean"  of  Passion  or 
Emotion  the  begetter  of  bubbles — Passion  which,  like  the  visible  Ocean, 
images  Eternity  and  portrays,  but  not  to  the  sensual  eye,  the  beatific 
vision  of  the  things  which  are  not  seen,  and,  even  so,  "  ministers  to 
the  Soul's  delight "  !  But  "  who  can  tell "  ?] 


CANTO  XV.]  DON   JUAN.  545 

Making  the  countenance  a  masque  of  rest  '• 
And  turning  Human  Nature  to  an  art. 

Few  men  dare  show  their  thoughts  of  worst  or  best ; 
Dissimulation  always  sets  apart 

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  : 

What  though  on  Lethe's  stream  he  seem  to  float, 
He  cannot  sink  his  tremours  or  his  terrors ; 

The  ruby  glass  that  shakes  within  his  hand 

Leaves  a  sad  sediment  of  Time's  worst  sand. 

v. 
And  as  for  Love — O  Love  ! We  will  proceed : — 

The  Lady  Adeline  Amundeville, 
A  pretty  name  as  one  would  wish  to  read, 

Must  perch  harmonious  on  my  tuneful  quill. 
There  's  Music  in  the  sighing  of  a  reed ; 

There  's  Music  in  the  gushing  of  a  rill ; 
There  's  Music  in  all  things,  if  men  had  ears  : 
Their  Earth  is  but  an  echo  of  the  Spheres. 

VI. 

The  Lady  Adeline,  Right  Honourable, 

And  honoured,  ran  a  risk  of  growing  less  so ; 

For  few  of  the  soft  sex  are  very  stable 

In  their  resolves — alas  !  that  I  should  say  so ; 

They  differ  as  wine  differs  from  its  label, 
When  once  decanted ; — I  presume  to  guess  so, 

But  will  not  swear :  yet  both  upon  occasion, 

Till  old,  may  undergo  adulteration. 

VII. 

But  Adeline  was  of  the  purest  vintage, 

The  unmingled  essence  of  the  grape ;  and  yet 

i.    While  all  without 's  indicative  of  rest, — [MS.  erased.} 
VOL.  VI.  2    N 


S46  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

Bright  as  a  new  napoleon  from  its  mintage, 

Or  glorious  as  a  diamond  richly  set ; 
A  page  where  Time  should  hesitate  to  print  age, 

And  for  which  Nature  might  forego  her  debt — '• 
Sole  creditor  whose  process  doth  involve  in  't 
The  luck  of  finding  everybody  solvent. 

VIII. 

O  Death  !  thou  dunnest  of  all  duns  !  thou  daily 
Knockest  at  doors,  at  first  with  modest  tap, 

Like  a  meek  tradesman  when  approaching  palely 
Some  splendid  debtor  he  would  take  by  sap  : 

But  oft  denied,  as  Patience  'gins  to  fail,  he 
Advances  with  exasperated  rap, 

And  (if  let  in)  insists,  in  terms  unhandsome, 

On  ready  money,  or  "  a  draft  on  Ransom."  1 

IX. 

Whate'er  thou  takest,  spare  awhile  poor  Beauty  ! 

She  is  so  rare,  and  thou  hast  so  much  prey. 
What  though  she  now  and  then  may  slip  from  duty, 

The  more  's  the  reason  why  you  ought  to  stay ; 
Gaunt  Gourmand  !  with  whole  nations  for  your  booty,"- 

You  should  be  civil  in  a  modest  way  : 
Suppress,  then,  some  slight  feminine  diseases, 
And  take  as  many  heroes  as  Heaven  pleases. 

x. 

Fair  Adeline,  the  more  ingenuous 

Where  she  was  interested  (as  was  said), 
Because  she  was  not  apt,  like  some  of  us, 

To  like  too  readily,  or  too  high  bred 
To  show  it — (points  we  need  not  now  discuss) — 

Would  give  up  artlessly  both  Heart  and  Head 
Unto  such  feelings  as  seemed  innocent, 
For  objects  worthy  of  the  sentiment. 

i.  A  thing  on  which  dull  Time  should  never  print  age, 

For  whom  stern  Nature  should  forego  her  debt.— {MS.} 
ii.  Old  Skeleton  with  ages  for  your  booty. — [AfS.  erased.] 

i.  [Ransom  and  Morland  were  Byron's  bankers.     Douglas  Kinnaird 
was  a  partner  in  the  firm.     (See  Letters,  1898,  ii.  85,  note  2.)] 


CANTO  XV.]  DON    JUAN.  547 

XI. 

Some  parts  of  Juan's  history,  which  Rumour, 
That  live  Gazette,  had  scattered  to  disfigure, 

She   had   heard;    but   Women    hear   with  more    good 

humour 
Such  aberrations  than  we  men  of  rigour : 

Besides,  his  conduct,  since  in  England,  grew  more 
Strict,  and  his  mind  assumed  a  manlier  vigour  : 

Because  he  had,  like  Alcibiades, 

The  art  of  living  in  all  climes  with  ease.1 

XII. 

His  manner  was  perhaps  the  more  seductive. 
Because  he  ne'er  seemed  anxious  to  seduce ; 

Nothing  affected,  studied,  or  constructive 
Of  coxcombry  or  conquest :  no  abuse 

Of  his  attractions  marred  the  fair  perspective, 
To  indicate  a  Cupidon  broke  loose,2 

And  «eem  to  say,  "  Resist  us  if  you  can  " — 

Which  makes  a  Dandy  while  it  spoils  a  Man. 

XIII. 

They  are  wru^g — that 's  not  the  way  to  set  about  it ; 

As,  if  they  told  the  truth,  could  well  be  shown. 
But,  right  or  wrong,  Don  Juan  was  without  it ; 

In  fact,  his  manner  was  his  own  alone  : 
Sincere  he  was — at  least  you  could  not  doubt  it, 

In  listening  merely  to  his  voice's  tone. 
The  Devil  hath  not  in  all  his  quiver's  choice 
An  arrow  for  the  Heart  like  a  sweet  voice. 

XIV. 

By  nature  soft,  his  whole  address  held  off 

Suspicion  :  though  not  timid,  his  regard 
Was  such  as  rather  seemed  to  keep  aloof, 

To  shield  himself  than  put  you  on  your  guard  : 

1.  ["  He  turned  himself  into  all  manner  of  forms  with  more  ease  than 
the  chameleon  changes  his  colour.  .  .  .  Thus  at  Sparta  he  was  all  for 
exercise,  frugal  in  his  diet,  and  severe  in  his  manners.      In  Asia  he 
was  as  much  for  mirth  and  pleasure,  luxury  and  ease." — Plutarch, 
Alcibiades,  Langhorne's  translation,  1838,  p.  150.] 

2.  [For  the  phrase  "  Cupidon  De"chalne","  applied  to  Count  D'Orsay, 
vide  ante,  p.  526,  note  4.] 


548  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

Perhaps  't  was  hardly  quite  assured  enough, 

But  Modesty  's  at  times  its  own  reward, 
Like  Virtue ;  and  the  absence  of  pretension 
Will  go  much  farther  than  there  's  need  to  mention. 

xv. 

Serene,  accomplished,  cheerful  but  not  loud ; 

Insinuating  without  insinuation ; 
Observant  of  the  foibles  of  the  crowd, 

Yet  ne'er  betraying  this  in  conversation ; 
Proud  with  the  proud,  yet  courteously  proud, 

So  as  to  make  them  feel  he  knew  his  station 
And  theirs : — without  a  struggle  for  priority, 
He  neither  brooked  nor  claimed  superiority — 

XVI. 

That  is,  with  Men  :  with  Women  he  was  what 
They  pleased  to  make  or  take  him  for ;  and  their 

Imagination  's  quite  enough  for  that : 
So  that  the  outline  's  tolerably  fair, 

They  fill  the  canvas  up — and  "  verbum  sat" 1 
If  once  their  phantasies  be  brought  to  bear 

Upon  an  object,  whether  sad  or  playful, 

They  can  transfigure  brighter  than  a  Raphael.2 

XVII. 

Adeline,  no  deep  judge  of  character, 

Was  apt  to  add  a  colouring  from  her  own : 

'T  is  thus  the  Good  will  amiably  err, 

And  eke  the  Wise,  as  has  been  often  shown. 

Experience  is  the  chief  philosopher, 

But  saddest  when  his  science  is  well  known  : 

And  persecuted  Sages  teach  the  Schools 

Their  folly  in  forgetting  there  are  fools. 

XVIII. 

Was  it  not  so,  great  Locke  ?  and  greater  Bacon  ? 
Great  Socrates  ?     And  thou,  Diviner  still,3 

1.  [Plautus,  Truculentus,  act  ii.  sc.  8,  line  14.  J 

2.  [Raphael's  "Transfiguration"  is  in  the  Vatican.] 

•?.  As  it  is  necessary  in  these  times  to  avoid  ambiguity,  I  say  that  I 
mean,  by  "  Diviner  still,"  CHRIST.  If  ever  God  was  man — or  man 
God — he  was  both.  I  never  arraigned  his  creed,  but  the  use — or  abuse 


CANTO  XV.]  DON    JUAN.  549 

Whose  lot  it  is  by  Man  to  be  mistaken,'- 

And  thy  pure  creed  made  sanction  of  all  ill  ? 

Redeeming  Worlds  to  be  by  bigots  shaken,"- 
How  was  thy  toil  rewarded  ?     We  might  fill 

Volumes  with  similar  sad  illustrations, 

But  leave  them  to  the  conscience  of  the  nations. 

XIX. 

I  perch  upon  an  humbler  promontory, 

Amidst  Life's  infinite  variety : 
With  no  great  care  for  what  is  nicknamed  Glory, 

But  speculating  as  I  cast  mine  eye 
On  what  may  suit  or  may  not  suit  my  story, 

And  never  straining  hard  to  versify, 
I  rattle  on  exactly  as  I  'd  talk 
With  anybody  in  a  ride  or  walk. 

xx. 

I  don't  know  that  there  may  be  much  ability 
Shown  in  this  sort  of  desultory  rhyme  ; 

But  there  's  a  conversational  facility, 
Which  may  round  off  an  hour  upon  a  time. 

Of  this  I  'm  sure  at  least,  there  's  no  servility 
In  mine  irregularity  of  chime, 

Which  rings  what 's  uppermost  of  new  or  hoary,"'- 

Just  as  I  feel  the  Improvvisatore. 


i.  and  One  Name  Greater  still 

Whose  lot  it  was  to  be  the  most  mistaken. — [MS.  erased.] 
ii.    To  leave  the  world  by  bigot  fashions  shaken. — [MS.  erased.] 
Hi.    Which  never  flatters  either  Whig  or  Tory. — [MS.  erased.] 

— made  of  it.  Mr.  Canning  one  day  quoted  Christianity  to  sanction 
negro  slavery,  and  Mr.  Wilberforce  had  little  to  say  in  reply.  And 
was  Christ  crucified,  that  black  men  might  be  scourged  ?  If  so,  He  had 
better  been  born  a  Mulatto,  to  give  both  colours  an  equal  chance  of 
freedom,  or  at  least  salvation. 

[In  a  debate  in  the  House  of  Commons,  May  15,  1823  (Parl.  Deb. , 
N.S.  vol.  ix.  pp.  278,  279),  Canning,  replying  to  Fowell  Buxton's 
motion  for  the  Abolition  of  Slavery,  said,  "God  forbid  that  I  should 
contend  that  the  Christian  religion  is  favourable  to  slavery  .  .  .  but  if 
it  be  meant  that  in  the  Christian  religion  there  is  a  special  denunciation 
against  slavery,  that  slavery  and  Christianity  cannot  exist  together, — I 
think  that  the  honourable  gentleman  himself  must  admit  that  the 
proposition  is  historically  false."] 


DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

XXI. 

"  Omnia  -vult  belle  Matho  dicere — die  aliquando 
Et  bene,  die  neutrum,  die  aliquando  male." 1 

The  first  is  rather  more  than  mortal  can  do ; 
The  second  may  be  sadly  done  or  gaily ; 

The  third  is  still  more  difficult  to  stand  to ; 

The  fourth  we  hear,  and  see,  and  say  too,  daily : 

The  whole  together  is  what  I  could  wish 

To  serve  in  this  conundrum  of  a  dish. 

XXII. 

A  modest  hope — but  Modesty  's  my  forte, 
And  Pride  my  feeble : a — let  us  ramble  on. 

I  meant  to  make  this  poem  very  short, 

But  now  I  can't  tell  where  it  may  not  run.1- 

No  doubt,  if  I  had  wished  to  pay  my  court 
To  critics,  or  to  hail  the  setting  sun 

Of  Tyranny  of  all  kinds,  my  concision 3 

Were  more ; — but  I  was  born  for  opposition. 

XXIII. 

But  then  't  is  mostly  on  the  weaker  side ; 

So  that  I  verily  believe  if  they 
Who  now  are  basking  in  their  full-blown  pride "• 

Were  shaken  down,  and  "  dogs  had  had  their  day," 4 
Though  at  the  first  I  might  perchance  deride 

Their  tumble,  I  should  turn  the  other  way, 
And  wax  an  ultra-royalist  in  Loyalty, 
Because  I  hate  even  democratic  Royalty."1' 

i.  But  now  I  cant  tell  when  it  will  be  done. — \MS.  erased.] 

ii.    Who  now  are  weltering . — [MS.  erased.] 

Hi.  /  should  not  be  the  foremost  to  deride 

Their  fault — but  quickly  take  a  sword  the  otJur  way, 
And  wax  an  Ultra-royalist,  where  Royalty 
Had  nothing  left  it  but  a  desperate  Loyalty. — [MS.  erased."] 


i.  [Martial,  Efig.,  x.  46.] 
»•!"' 


'Feeble"  for  "foible"  is  found  in  the  writings  of  Mrs.  Behn 
and  Sir  R.  L'Estrange  (N.  Engl.  Diet.).'] 

3.  [The  N.  Engl.  Diet,  quotes  W.   Hooper's  Rational  Recreations 
(1794)  as  an  earlier  authority  for  the  use  of  "  concision"  in  the  sense 
of  conciseness.] 

4.  ["  The  cat  will  mew  and  dog  will  have  his  day." 

Hamlet,  act  v.  sc.  i,  line  280.] 


CANTO  XV.]  DON   JUAN. 


55* 


XXIV. 

I  think  I  should  have  made  a  decent  spouse, 
If  I  had  never  proved  the  soft  condition ; 

I  think  I  should  have  made  monastic  vows 
But  for  my  own  peculiar  superstition : 

'Gainst  rhyme  I  never  should  have  knocked  my  brows, 
Nor  broken  my  own  head,  nor  that  of  Priscian,1 

Nor  worn  the  motley  mantle  of  a  poet, 

If  some  one  had  not  told  me  to  forego  it.2 

XXV. 

But  laissez  aller — Knights  and  Dames  I  sing, 
Such  as  the  times  may  furnish.     'T  is  a  flight 

Which  seems  at  first  to  need  no  lofty  wing, 
Plumed  by  Longinus  or  the  Stagyrite  :  '• 

The  difficulty  lies  in  colouring 

(Keeping  the  due  proportions  still  in  sight) 

With  Nature  manners  which  are  artificial, 

And  rend'ring  general  that  which  is  especial. 

XXVI. 

The  difference  is,  that  in  the  days  of  old 

Men  made  the  Manners ;  Manners  now  make  men — 
Pinned  like  a  flock,  and  fleeced  too  in  their  fold, 

At  least  nine,  and  a  ninth  beside  of  ten. 
Now  this  at  all  events  must  render  cold 

Your  writers,  who  must  either  draw  again 

i.    To  marshal  onwards  to  the  Delphian  Height. — [MS.] 

1.  ["And  hold  no  sin  so  deeply  red 

As  that  of  breaking  Priscian's  head." 
Butler's  Hitdibras,  Part  II.  Canto  II.  lines  223,  224.] 

2.  [Brougham,  in  the  famous  critique  of  Hours  of  Idleness  (Edinburgh 
Review,  January,  1808,  vol.  xi.  pp.  285-289),  was  pleased  "to  counsel 
him  that  he  do  forthwith  abandon  poetry  and  turn  his  talents,  which 
are  considerable,  and   his  opportunities,  which   are  great,  to  better 
account."      Others,    however,    gave    him    encouragement.      See,    for 
instance,  a  review  by  J.  H.  Markland,  who  afterwards  made  his  name 
as  editor  of  the  Roxburgh  Club  issue  of  the  Chester  Mysteries  (whence, 
perhaps,  Byron  derived  his  knowledge  of  "  Mysteries  and  Moralities"), 
which  concludes  thus:  "  Heartily  hoping  that  the  '  illness  and  depres- 
sion  of  spirits,"  which   evidently  pervade  the  greater   part   of  these 
effusions,  are  entirely  dispelled  ;  confident  that  '  George  Gordon,  Lord 
Byron  '  will  have  a  conspicuous  niche  in  the  future  editions  of  '  Royal 
and  Noble  Authors,'  etc." — Gent.  Mag.,  1807,  vol.  Ixxvii.  p.  1217.] 


552  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

Days  better  drawn  before,  or  else  assume 
The  present,  with  their  common-place  costume. 

XXVII. 

We  '11  do  our  best  to  make  the  best  on  't : — March  ! 

March,  my  Muse  !     If  you  cannot  fly,  yet  flutter ; 
And  when  you  may  not  be  sublime,  be  arch, 

Or  starch,  as  are  the  edicts  statesmen  utter. 
We  surely  may  find  something  worth  research : 

Columbus  found  a  new  world  in  a  cutter, 
Or  brigantine,  or  pink,  of  no  great  tonnage, 
While  yet  America  was  in  her  non-age.1 

XXVIII. 

When  Adeline,  in  all  her  growing  sense 

Of  Juan's  merits  and  his  situation, 
Felt  on  the  whole  an  interest  intense, — 

Partly  perhaps  because  a  fresh  sensation, 
Or  that  he  had  an  air  of  innocence, 

Which  is  for  Innocence  a  sad  temptation, — 
As  Women  hate  half  measures,  on  the  whole,'- 
She  'gan  to  ponder  how  to  save  his  soul. 

XXIX. 

She  had  a  good  opinion  of  Advice, 

Like  all  who  give  and  eke  receive  it  gratis, 

For  which  small  thanks  are  still  the  market  price, 
Even  where  the  article  at  highest  rate  is : 

She  thought  upon  the  subject  twice  or  thrice, 
And  morally  decided — the  best  state  is 

For  Morals — Marriage;  and,  this  question  carried, 

She  seriously  advised  him  to  get  married. 

i.  As  Women  seldom  think  by  halves . — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  ["  Three  small  vessels  were  apparently  all  that  Columbus  had  re- 
quested. Two  of  them  were  light  barques,  called  caravels,  not  superior 
to  river  and  coasting  craft  of  more  modern  days ....  That  such  long 
and  perilous  expeditions  into  unknown  seas,  should  be  undertaken  in 
vessels  without  decks,  and  that  they  should  live  through  the  violent 
tempests  by  which  they  were  frequently  assailed,  remain  among  the 
singular  circumstances  of  those  daring  voyages. " — Hi 'stoi y  of  the  Life 
and  Voyages  of  Christopher  Columbus,  by  Washington  Irving,  1831, 
i.  78.] 


CANTO  XV.]  DON   JUAN.  553 

XXX. 

Juan  replied,  with  all  becoming  deference, 

He  had  a  predilection  for  that  tie ; 
But  that,  at  present,  with  immediate  reference 

To  his  own  circumstances,  there  might  lie 
Some  difficulties,  as  in  his  own  preference, 

Or  that  of  her  to  whom  he  might  apply : 
That  still  he  'd  wed  with  such  or  such  a  lady, 
If  that  they  were  not  married  all  already. 

XXXI. 

Next  to  the  making  matches  for  herself, 
And  daughters,  brothers,  sisters,  kith  or  kin, 

Arranging  them  like  books  on  the  same  shelf, 
There  's  nothing  women  love  to  dabble  in 

More  (like  a  stock-holder  in  growing  pelf) 
Than  match-making  in  general :  't  is  no  sin 

Certes,  but  a  preventative,  and  therefore 

That  is,  no  doubt,  the  only  reason  wherefore. 

XXXII. 

But  never  yet  (except  of  course  a  miss 

Unwed,  or  mistress  never  to  be  wed, 
Or  wed  already,  who  object  to  this) 

Was  there  chaste  dame  who  had  not  in  her  head 
Some  drama  of  the  marriage  Unities, 

Observed  as  strictly  both  at  board  and  bed, 
As  those  of  Aristotle,  though  sometimes 
They  turn  out  Melodrames  or  Pantomimes. 

XXXIII. 

They  generally  have  some  only  son, 

Some  heir  to  a  large  property,  some  friend 

Of  an  old  family,  some  gay  Sir  John, 

Or  grave  Lord  George,  with  whom  perhaps  might  end 

A  line,  and  leave  Posterity  undone, 

Unless  a  marriage  was  applied  to  mend 

The  prospect  and  their  morals :  and  besides, 

They  have  at  hand  a  blooming  glut  of  brides. 

xxxiv. 

From  these  they  will  be  careful  to  select, 
For  this  an  heiress,  and  for  that  a  beauty ; 


554  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

For  one  a  songstress  who  hath  no  defect, 
For  t'  other  one  who  promises  much  duty ; 

For  this  a  lady  no  one  can  reject, 
Whose  sole  accomplishments  were  quite  a  booty ; 

A  second  for  her  excellent  connections ; 

A  third,  because  there  can  be  no  objections. 

xxxv. 
When  Rapp  the  Harmonist  embargoed  Marriage l 

In  his  harmonious  settlement — (which  flourishes 
Strangely  enough  as  yet  without  miscarriage, 

Because  it  breeds  no  more  mouths  than  it  nourishes, 
Without  those  sad  expenses  which  disparage 

What  Nature  naturally  most  encourages) — 
Why  called  he  "  Harmony  "  a  state  sans  wedlock  ? 
Now  here  I  've  got  the  preacher  at  a  dead  lock. 

xxxvi. 
Because  he  either  meant  to  sneer  at  Harmony 

Or  Marriage,  by  divorcing  them  thus  oddly. 
But  whether  reverend  Rapp  learned  this  in  Germany 

Or  no,  't  is  said  his  sect  is  rich  and  godly, 
Pious  and  pure,  beyond  what  I  can  term  any 

Of  ours,  although  they  propagate  more  broadly. 
My  objection  's  to  his  title,  not  his  ritual. 
Although  I  wonder  how  it  grew  habitual.'- 

i.    Which  last  I  leave  unto  the  Lords  spiritual. — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  This  extraordinary  and  nourishing  German  colony  in  America 
does  not  entirely  exclude  matrimony,  as  the  "Shakers"  do;  but  lays 
such  restrictions  upon  it  as  prevents  more  than  a  certain  quantum  of 
births  within  a  certain  number  of  years  ;  which  births  (as  Mr.  Hulme 
[perhaps  Thomas  Hulme,  whose  Journal  is  quoted  in  Hints  to  Emigrants, 
1817,  pp.  5-18]  observes)  generally  arrive  '  in  a  little  flock  like  those  of 
a  farmer's  lambs,  all  within  the  same  month  perhaps."  These  Har- 
monists (so  called  from  the  name  of  their  settlement)  are  represented 
as  a  remarkably  flourishing,  pious,  and  quiet  people.  See  the  various 
recent  writers  on  America. 

[The  Harmonists  were  emigrants  from  Wiirtemburg,  who  settled 
(1803-1805)  under  the  auspices  of  George  Rapp,  in  a  township  120 
miles  north  of  Philadelphia.  This  they  sold,  and  "trekked"  west- 
wards to  Indiana.  One  of  their  customs  was  to  keep  watch  by  nights 
and  to  cry  the  hours  to  this  tune  :  "Again  a  day  is  past  and  a  step 
made  nearer  to  our  end.  Our  time  runs  away,  and  the  joys  of  Heaven 
are  our  reward."  (See  The  Philanthropist,  No.  xx. ,  1815,  vol.  v. 
pp.  277-288.)] 


CANTO  XV.]  DON  JUAN.  555 

XXXVII. 

But  Rapp  is  the  reverse  of  zealous  matrons. 
Who  favour,  malgr'c  Malthus,  Generation — 

Professors  of  that  genial  art,  and  patrons 
Of  all  the  modest  part  of  Propagation  ; 

Which  after  all  at  such  a  desperate  rate  runs, 
That  half  its  produce  tends  to  Emigration, 

That  sad  result  of  passions  and  potatoes — 

Two  weeds  which  pose  our  economic  Catos. 

xxxvni. 
Had  Adeline  read  Malthus  ?     I  can't  tell ; 

I  wish  she  had  :  his  book 's  the  eleventh  commandment, 
Which  says,  "  Thou  shalt  not  marry,"  unless  well: 

This  he  (as  far  as  I  can  understand)  meant. 
'T  is  not  my  purpose  on  his  views  to  dwell, 

Nor  canvass  what  "  so  eminent  a  hand  "  meant ;  * 
But,  certes,  it  conducts  to  lives  ascetic, 
Or  turning  Marriage  into  Arithmetic. 

XXXIX. 

But  Adeline,  who  probably  presumed 

That  Juan  had  enough  of  maintenance, 
Or  separate  maintenance,  in  case  't  was  doomed — 

As  on  the  whole  it  is  an  even  chance 
That  bridegrooms,  after  they  are  fairly  groomed, 

May  retrograde  a  little  in  the  Dance 
Of  Marriage — (which  might  form  a  painter's  fame, 
Like  Holbein's  "  Dance  of  Death"  2 — but 't  is  the  same) — 

XL. 
But  Adeline  determined  Juan's  wedding 

In  her  own  mind,  and  that 's  enough  for  Woman  : 

1.  Jacob  Tonson,  according  to  Mr.  Pope,  was  accustomed  to  call 
his  writers  "able  pens,"  "  persons  of  honour,"  and,  especially,  "eminent 
hands."     Vide  Correspondence,  etc.,  etc. 

["  Perhaps  I  should  myself  be  much  better  pleased,  if  I  were  told 
you  called  me  your  little  friend,  than  if  you  complimented  me  with  the 
title  of  a  'great  genius,'  or  an  eminent  hand,  as  Jacob  does  all  his 
authors." — Pope  to  Steele,  November  29,  1712,  Works  of  Alexander 
Pope,  1871,  vi.  396.] 

2.  [See  D'Israeli's  Curiosities  of  Literature,  1841,  pp.  450-452,  and 
the  Dissertation  prefixed  to  Francis  Donee's  edition  of  Holbein's  Dance 
of  Death,  1858,  pp.  1-218.] 


556  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

But  then,  with  whom  ?    There  was  the  sage  Miss  Reading, 
Miss    Raw,    Miss    Flaw,    Miss   Showman,   and   Miss 
Knowman,'- 

And  the  two  fair  co-heiresses  Giltbedding. 

She  deemed  his  merits  something  more  than  common  : 

All  these  were  unobjectionable  matches, 

And  might  go  on,  if  well  wound  up,  like  watches. 

XLI. 
There  was  Miss  Millpond,  smooth  as  summer's  sea,"- 

That  usual  paragon,  an  only  daughter, 
Who  seemed  the  cream  of  Equanimity, 

Till  skimmed — and  then  there  was  some   milk   and 

water, 
With  a  slight  shade  of  blue  too,  it  might  be, 

Beneath  the  surface ;  but  what  did  it  matter  ? 
Love  's  riotous,  but  Marriage  should  have  quiet, 
And  being  consumptive,  live  on  a  milk  diet. 

XLII. 
And  then  there  was  the  Miss  Audacia  Shoestring, 

A  dashing  demoiselle  of  good  estate, 
Whose  heart  was  fixed  upon  a  star  or  blue  string ; 

But  whether  English  Dukes  grew  rare  of  late, 
Or  that  she  had  not  harped  upon  the  true  string, 

By  which  such  Sirens  can  attract  our  great, 
She  took  up  with  some  foreign  younger  brother, 
A  Russ  or  Turk — the  one  's  as  good  as  t'  other. 

XLIII. 
And  then  there  was — but  why  should  I  go  on, 

Unless  the  ladies  should  go  off? — there  was 
Indeed  a  certain  fair  and  fairy  one, 

Of  the  best  class,  and  better  than  her  class, —   . 
Aurora  Raby,  a  young  star  who  shone 

O'er  Life,  too  sweet  an  image  for  such  glass, 
A  lovely  being,  scarcely  formed  or  moulded, 
A  rose  with  all  its  sweetest  leaves  yet  folded ; 

i.  Miss  Allman  and  Miss  Noman. — [MS.  erased.] 

ii.  that  smooth  placid  sea 

Which  did  not  show  and  yet  concealed  a  storm. — [MS.  erased.] 


CANTO  XV,]  DON  JUAN.  557 

XLIV. 

Rich,  noble,  but  an  orphan — left  an  only 

Child  to  the  care  of  guardians  good  and  kind — 

But  still  her  aspect  had  an  air  so  lonely ; 
Blood  is  not  water ;  and  where  shall  we  find 

Feelings  of  Youth  like  those  which  overthrown  lie 
By  Death,  when  we  are  left,  alas  !  behind, 

To  feel,  in  friendless  palaces,  a  home 

Is  wanting,  and  our  best  ties  in  the  tomb  ? 

XLV. 

Early  in  years,  and  yet  more  infantine 
In  figure,  she  had  something  of  Sublime 

In  eyes  which  sadly  shone,  as  Seraphs'  shine. 
All  Youth — but  with  an  aspect  beyond  Time ; 

Radiant  and  grave — as  pitying  Man's  decline ; 
Mournful — but  mournful  of  another's  crime, 

She  looked  as  if  she  sat  by  Eden's  door, 

And  grieved  for  those  who  could  return  no  more. 

XLVI. 
She  was  a  Catholic,  too,  sincere,  austere, 

As  far  as  her  own  gentle  heart  allowed, 
And  deemed  that  fallen  worship  far  more  dear 

Perhaps  because  't  was  fallen :  her  Sires  were  proud 
Of  deeds  and  days  when  they  had  filled  the  ear 

Of  nations,  and  had  never  bent  or  bowed 
To  novel  power ;  and  as  she  was  the  last, 
She  held  their  old  faith  and  old  feelings  fast. 

XLVII. 
She  gazed  upon  a  World  she  scarcely  knew, 

As  seeking  not  to  know  it;  silent,  lone, 
As  grows  a  flower,  thus  quietly  she  grew, 

And  kept  her  heart  serene  within  its  zone. 
There  was  awe  in  the  homage  which  she  drew ; 

Her  Spirit  seemed  as  seated  on  a  throne 
Apart  from  the  surrounding  world,  and  strong 
In  its  own  strength — most  strange  in  one  so  young  ! 

XLVIII. 
Now  it  so  happened,  in  the  catalogue 

Of  Adeline,  Aurora  was  omitted, 


S58  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

Although  her  birth  and  wealth  had  given  her  vogue, 
Beyond  the  charmers  we  have  already  cited ; 

Her  beauty  also  seemed  to  form  no  clog 
Against  her  being  mentioned  as  well  fitted, 

By  many  virtues,  to  be  worth  the  trouble 

Of  single  gentlemen  who  would  be  double. 

XLIX. 
And  this  omission,  like  that  of  the  bust 

Of  Brutus  at  the  pageant  of  Tiberius,1 
Made  Juan  wonder,  as  no  doubt  he  must. 

This  he  expressed  half  smiling  and  half  serious ; 
When  Adeline  replied  with  some  disgust, 

And  with  an  air,  to  say  the  least,  imperious, 
She  marvelled  "  what  he  saw  in  such  a  baby 
As  that  prim,  silent,  cold  Aurora  Raby  ?  " 

L. 
Juan  rejoined — "  She  was  a  Catholic, 

And  therefore  fittest,  as  of  his  persuasion ; 
Since  he  was  sure  his  mother  would  fall  sick, 

And  the  Pope  thunder  excommunication, 
If "  But  here  Adeline,  who  seemed  to  pique 

Herself  extremely  on  the  inoculation 
Of  others  with  her  own  opinions,  stated — 
As  usual — the  same  reason  which  she  late  did. 

LI. 
And  wherefore  not  ?    A  reasonable  reason, 

If  good,  is  none  the  worse  for  repetition ; 
If  bad,  the  best  way  's  certainly  to  tease  on, 

And  amplify :  you  lose  much  by  concision, 
Whereas  insisting  in  or  out  of  season 

Convinces  all  men,  even  a  politician ; 
Or — what  is  just  the  same — it  wearies  out. 
So  the  end  's  gained,  what  signifies  the  route  ? 

LII. 

Why  Adeline  had  this  slight  prejudice — 
For  prejudice  it  was — against  a  creature 

i.  [Compare  Chllde  Harold,  Canto  IV.  stanza  lix.  line  3,  Poetical 
Works,  1899,  ii.  374,  note  a.} 


CANTO  XV.]  DON   JUAN.  559 

As  pure,  as  Sanctity  itself,  from  Vice, — 

With  all  the  added  charm  of  form  and  feature, — 

For  me  appears  a  question  far  too  nice, 
Since  Adeline  was  liberal  by  nature ; 

But  Nature  's  Nature,  and  has  more  caprices 

Than  I  have  time,  or  will,  to  take  to  pieces. 

LIII. 

Perhaps  she  did  not  like  the  quiet  way 
With  which  Aurora  on  those  baubles  looked, 

Which  charm  most  people  in  their  earlier  day : 

For  there  are  few  things  by  Mankind  less  brooked, 

And  Womankind  too,  if  we  so  may  say, 

Than  finding  thus  their  genius  stand  rebuked, 

Like  "  Antony's  by  Caesar,"  1  by  the  few 

Who  look  upon  them  as  they  ought  to  do. 

LIV. 

It  was  not  envy — Adeline  had  none ; 

Her  place  was  far  beyond  it,  and  her  mind  : 
It  was  not  scorn — which  could  not  light  on  one 

Whose  greatest  fault  was  leaving  few  to  find : 
It  was  not  jealousy,  I  think — but  shun 

Following  the  ignesfatui  of  Mankind : 

It  was  not but 't  is  easier  far,  alas ! 

To  say  what  it  was  not  than  what  it  was. 

LV. 

Little  Aurora  deemed  she  was  the  theme 
Of  such  discussion.     She  was  there  a  guest; 

A  beauteous  ripple  of  the  brilliant  stream 

Of  Rank  and  Youth,  though  purer  than  the  rest, 

Which  flowed  on  for  a  moment  in  the  beam 
Time  sheds  a  moment  o'er  each  sparkling  crest. 

Had  she  known  this,  she  would  have  calmly  smiled — • 

She  had  so  much,  or  little,  of  the  child. 

i.  [".  .  .  And,  under  him, 

My  Genius  is  rebuked  ;  as  it  is  said 
Mark  Antony's  was  by  Caesar." 

Macbeth,  act  iii.  sc.  i,  lines  54-56-] 


56°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

LVI. 

The  dashing  and  proud  air  of  Adeline 

Imposed  not  upon  her :  she  saw  her  blaze 

Much  as  she  would  have  seen  a  glow-worm  shine, 
Then  turned  unto  the  stars  for  loftier  rays. 

Juan  was  something  she  could  not  divine, 
Being  no  Sibyl  in  the  new  world's  ways ; 

Yet  she  was  nothing  dazzled  by  the  meteor, 

Because  she  did  not  pin  her  faith  on  feature. 

LVII. 
His  fame  too, — for  he  had  that  kind  of  fame 

Which  sometimes  plays  the  deuce  with  Womankind, 
A  heterogeneous  mass  of  glorious  blame, 

Half  virtues  and  whole  vices  being  combined ; 
Faults  which  attract  because  they  are  not  tame ; 

Follies  tricked  out  so  brightly  that  they  blind : — 
These  seals  upon  her  wax  made  no  impression, 
Such  was  her  coldness  or  her  self-possession. 

LVIII. 
Juan  knew  nought  of  such  a  character — 

High,  yet  resembling  not  his  lost  Haide'e ; 
Yet  each  was  radiant  in  her  proper  sphere : 

The  island  girl,  bred  up  by  the  lone  sea, 
More  warm,  as  lovely,  and  not  less  sincere, 

Was  Nature's  all :  Aurora  could  not  be, 
Nor  would  be  thus : — the  difference  in  them 
Was  such  as  lies  between  a  flower  and  gem. 

LIX. 
Having  wound  up  with  this  sublime  comparison, 

Methinks  we  may  proceed  upon  our  narrative, 
And,  as  my  friend  Scott  says,  "  I  sound  my  warison ;  "  l 

Scott,  the  superlative  of  my  comparative — 

i.  [  Warison — cri-de-guerre — note  of  assault : — 

"  Either  receive  within  these  towers 
Two  hundred  of  my  master's  powers, 
Or  straight  they  sound  their  warrison, 
And  storm  and  spoil  this  garrison." 
Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  Canto  IV.  stanza  xxiv.  lines  17-20.] 


CANTO  XV.] 


DON   JUAN. 


Scott,  who  can  paint  your  Christian  knight  or  Saracen, 
Serf — Lord — Man,  with  such  skill  as  none  would  share 

it,  if 

There  had  not  been  one  Shakespeare  and  Voltaire, 
Of  one  or  both  of  whom  he  seems  the  heir.1 

LX. 

I  say,  in  my  slight  way  I  may  proceed 

To  play  upon  the  surface  of  Humanity. 
I  write  the  World,  nor  care  if  the  World  read, 

At  least  for  this  I  cannot  spare  its  vanity. 
My  Muse  hath  bred,  and  still  perhaps  may  breed 

More  foes  by  this  same  scroll :  when  I  began  it,  I 
Thought  that  it  might  turn  out  so — now  I  know  it,1 
But  still  I  am,  or  was,  a  pretty  poet. 

LXI. 
The  conference  or  congress  (for  it  ended 

As  Congresses  of  late  do)  of  the  Lady 
Adeline  and  Don  Juan  rather  blended 

Some  acids  with  the  sweets — for  she  was  heady ; 
But,  ere  the  matter  could  be  marred  or  mended, 

The  silvery  bell  rang,  not  for  "  dinner  ready," 
But  for  that  hour,  called  half-hour^  given  to  dress, 
Though  ladies'  robes  seem  scant  enough  for  less. 

LXII. 
Great  things  were  now  to  be  achieved  at  table, 

With  massy  plate  for  armour,  knives  and  forks 
For  weapons ;  but  what  Muse  since  Homer  's  able 

(His  feasts  are  not  the  worst  part  of  his  works) 
To  draw  up  in  array  a  single  day-bill 

Of  modern  dinners  ?  where  more  mystery  lurks, 
In  soups  or  sauces,  or  a  sole  ragout, 
Than  witches,  b — ches,  or  physicians,  brew. 

LXIII. 
There  was  a  goodly  "  soupe  a  la  bonne  femme? 2 

Though  God  knows  whence  it  came  from;  there  was, too, 

i.  And  adds  a  third  to  what  was  late  a  pair. — {MS.  erased.} 

1.  [Compare  :     "  Life's  a  jest,  and  all  things  show  it ; 

I  thought  so  once,  and  now  I  know  it." 

Gay's  Epitaph.  ] 

2.  [For  "  Potage  a  la  bonne  femme,"  "  Dindon  a  la  PeYigueux," 
VOL.  VI.  2    O 


562  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

A  turbot  for  relief  of  those  who  cram, 

Relieved  with  "  dindon  a  la  Perigeux ; " 
There  also  was the  sinner  that  I  am  ! 

How  shall  I  get  this  gourmand  stanza  through  ? — 
"  Soupe  a  la  Beauveau,"  whose  relief  was  dory, 
Relieved  itself  by  pork,  for  greater  glory. 

LXIV. 
But  I  must  crowd  all  into  one  grand  mess 

Or  mass ;  for  should  I  stretch  into  detail, 
My  Muse  would  run  much  more  into  excess, 

Than  when  some  squeamish  people  deem  her  frail ; 
But  though  a  bonne  vivante,  I  must  confess 

Her  stomach  's  not  her  peccant  part ;  this  tale 
However  doth  require  some  slight  refection, 
Just  to  relieve  her  spirits  from  dejection. 

LXV. 
Fowls  "  a  la  Conde',"  slices  eke  of  salmon, 

With  "  sauces  Genevoises,"  and  haunch  of  venison ; 
Wines  too,  which  might  again  have  slain  young  Ammon — l 

A  man  like  whom  I  hope  we  sha'n't  see  many  soon ; 
They  also  set  a  glazed  Westphalian  ham  on, 

Whereon  Apicius  would  bestow  his  benison ; 
And  then  there  was  champagne  with  foaming  whirls, 
As  white  as  Cleopatra's  melted  pearls. 

LXVI. 
Then  there  was  God  knows  what  "  a  I'Allemande," 

"  A  1'Espagnole,"  "  timballe,"  and  "  salpicon  "- 
With  things  I  can't  withstand  or  understand, 

Though  swallowed  with  much  zest  upon  the  whole ; 
And  "entremets"  to  piddle  with  at  hand, 

Gently  to  lull  down  the  subsiding  soul ; 

"Soupe  a  la  Beauveau,"  "  Le  dorey  garni  d'e'perlans  frits,"  "  Le 
cuisseau  de  pore  a  demi  sel,  garni  de  choux,"  "  Le  salmi  de  perdreaux 
a  1'Espagnole,"  "  Les  brasses,"  see  "  Bill  of  Fare  for  November," 
The  French  Cook,  by  Louis  Eustache  Ude,  1813,  p.  viii.  For  "  Les 
poulardes  a  la  CondeV'  "  Le  jambon  de  Westphalie  a  1'Espagnole," 
"  Les  petites  timballes  d'un  salpicon  a  la  Monglas  "  (PMontglat),  "  Les 
filets  de  perdreaux  sautes  a  la  Lucullus,"  vide  ibid.,  p.  ix.,  and  for 
"  Petits  puits  d'amour  garnis  de  confitures,"  vide  Plate  of  Second 
Course  (to  face)  p.  vi.] 
i.  [Alexander  the  Great.] 


CANTO  XV.]  DON   JUAN.  563 

While  great  Lucullus'  Robe  triumphal  muffles — 
(TJiere  's  fame) — young   partridge  fillets,  decked    with 
truffles.1 

LXVII. 
What  are  \h&  fillets  on  the  Victor's  brow 

To  these  ?    They  are  rags  or  dust.     Where  is  the  arch 
Which  nodded  to  the  nation's  spoils  below  ? 

Where  the  triumphal  chariots'  haughty  march  ? 
Gone  to  where  Victories  must  like  dinners  go. 

Farther  I  shall  not  follow  the  research : 
But  oh !  ye  modern  Heroes  with  your  cartridges, 
When  will  your  names  lend  lustre  e'en  to  partridges  ? 

LXVIII. 
Those  truffles  too  are  no  bad  accessaries, 

Followed  by  "  petits  puits  d'amour  " — a  dish 
Of  which  perhaps  the  cookery  rather  varies, 

So  every  one  may  dress  it  to  his  wish, 
According  to  the  best  of  dictionaries, 

Which  encyclopedize  both  flesh  and  fish ; 
But  even,  sans  confitures,  it  no  less  true  is, 
There  's  pretty  picking  in  those  petits  putts? 

LXIX. 
The  mind  is  lost  in  mighty  contemplation 

Of  intellect  expanded  on  two  courses ; 
And  Indigestion's  grand  multiplication 

Requires  arithmetic  beyond  my  forces. 
Who  would  suppose,  from  Adam's  simple  ration, 

That  cookery  could  have  called  forth  such  resources, 

1.  A  dish  "4  la  Lucullus."    This  hero,  who  conquered  the  East, 
has  left  his  more  extended  celebrity  to  the  transplantation  of  cherries 
(which  he  first  brought  into  Europe),  and  the  nomenclature  of  some 
very  good  dishes ; — and  I  am  not  sure  that  (barring  indigestion)  he 
has  not  done  more  service  to  mankind  by  his  cookery  than  by  his 
conquests.     A  cherry  tree  may  weigh  against  a  bloody  laurel ;  besides, 
he  has  contrived  to  earn  celebrity  from  both. 

[According  to  Pliny  (Nat.  Hist.,  lib.  xv.  cap.  xxv.  ed.  1593,  ii.  131), 
there  were  no  cherry  trees  in  Italy  until  L.  Lucullus  brought  them 
home  with  him  from  Pontus  after  the  Mithridatic  War  (B.C.  74),  and  it 
was  not  for  another  hundred  and  twenty  years  that  the  cherry  tree 
crossed  the  Channel  and  was  introduced  into  Britain.] 

2.  "  Petits  puits  d'amour  garnis  de  confitures," — a  classical  and  well- 
known  dish  for  part  of  the  flank  of  a  second  course  [vide  ante,  p.  562]. 


564  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

As  form  a  science  and  a  nomenclature 

From  out  the  commonest  demands  of  Nature  ? 

LXX. 
The  glasses  jingled,  and  the  palates  tingled; 

The  diners  of  celebrity  dined  well ; 
The  ladies  with  more  moderation  mingled 

In  the  feast,  pecking  less  than  I  can  tell ; 
Also  the  younger  men  too  :  for  a  springald 

Can't,  like  ripe  Age,  in  goiirmandise  excel, 
But  thinks  less  of  good  eating  than  the  whisper 
(When  seated  next  him)  of  some  pretty  lisper. 

LXXI. 
Alas  !  I  must  leave  undescribed  the  gibier, 

The  salmi,  the  consomme,  thefluree, 
All  which  I  use  to  make  my  rhymes  run  glibber 

Than  could  roast  beef  in  our  rough  John  Bull  way  : 
I  must  not  introduce  even  a  spare  rib  here, 

"  Bubble  and  squeak  "  would  spoil  my  liquid  lay  : 
But  I  have  dined,  and  must  forego,  alas  ! 
The  chaste  description  even  of  a  "  bdcasse ; " 

LXXII. 
And  fruits,  and  ice,  and  all  that  Art  refines 

From  Nature  for  the  service  of  the  goftt — 
Taste  or  the  gout, — pronounce  it  as  inclines 

Your  stomach !  Ere  you  dine,  the  French  will  do  ; 
But  after,  there  are  sometimes  certain  signs 

Which  prove  plain  English  truer  of  the  two. 
Hast  ever  had  the  goutl  I  have  not  had  it — 
But  I  may  have,  and  you  too,  reader,  dread  it. 

LXXIII. 

The  simple  olives,  best  allies  of  wine, 

Must  I  pass  over  in  my  bill  of  fare  ? 
I  must,  although  a  favourite  plat  of  mine 

In  Spain,  and  Lucca,  Athens,  everywhere  : 
On  them  and  bread  't  was  oft  my  luck  to  dine — 

The  grass  my  table-cloth,  in  open  air, 
On  Sunium  or  Hymettus,  like  Diogenes, 
Of  whom  half  my  philosophy  the  progeny  is.1 

i.  ["To-day  in  a  palace,  to-morrow  In  a  cow-house — this  day  with 


CANTO  XV.]  DON  JUAN.  565 

LXXIV. 

Amidst  this  tumult  of  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl, 

And  vegetables,  all  in  masquerade, 
The  guests  were  placed  according  to  their  roll, 

But  various  as  the  various  meats  displayed  : 
Don  Juan  sat  next  an  "  a  1'Espagnole  " — 

No  damsel,  but  a  dish,  as  hath  been  said ;  '• 
But  so  far  like  a  lady,  that 't  was  drest 
Superbly,  and  contained  a  world  of  zest. 

LXXV. 
By  some  odd  chance  too,  he  was  placed  between 

Aurora  and  the  Lady  Adeline — 
A  situation  difficult,  I  ween, 

For  man  therein,  with  eyes  and  heart,  to  dine. 
Also  the  conference  which  we  have  seen 

Was  not  such  as  to  encourage  him  to  shine, 
For  Adeline,  addressing  few  words  to  him, 
With  two  transcendent  eyes  seemed  to  look  through  him. 

LXXVI. 
I  sometimes  almost  think  that  eyes  have  ears  : 

This  much  is  sure,  that,  out  of  earshot,  things 
Are  somehow  echoed  to  the  pretty  dears, 

Of  which  I  can't  tell  whence  their  knowledge  springs. 
Like  that  same  mystic  music  of  the  spheres, 

Which  no  one  hears,  so  loudly  though  it  rings, 
'T  is  wonderful  how  oft  the  sex  have  heard 
Long  dialogues — which  passed  without  a  word  ! 

LXXVII. 
Aurora  sat  with  that  indifference, 

Which  piques  a  preux  chevalier — as  it  ought : 
Of  all  offences  that 's  the  worst  offence, 

Which  seems  to  hint  you  are  not  worth  a  thought. 
Now  Juan,  though  no  coxcomb  in  pretence, 

Was  not  exactly  pleased  to  be  so  caught ; 
Like  a  good  ship  entangled  among  ice — 
And  after  so  much  excellent  advice. 

i.  No  lady  but  a  dish .—[MS.] 

a  Pacha,  the  next  with  a  shepherd.  "—Letter  to  his  mother,  July  30, 
1810,  Letters,  1898,  i.  295.] 


5 66  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

LXXVIII. 
To  his  gay  nothings,  nothing  was  replied, 

Or  something  which  was  nothing,  as  Urbanity 
Required.     Aurora  scarcely  looked  aside, 

Nor  even  smiled  enough  for  any  vanity. 
The  Devil  was  in  the  girl !     Could  it  be  pride  ? 

Or  modesty,  or  absence,  or  inanity  ? 
Heaven  knows  !     But  Adeline's  malicious  eyes 
Sparkled  with  her  successful  prophecies, 

LXXIX. 

And  looked  as  much  as  if  to  say,  "  I  said  it ; " 
A  kind  of  triumph  I  '11  not  recommend, 

Because  it  sometimes,  as  I  have  seen  or  read  it, 
Both  in  the  case  of  lover  and  of  friend, 

Will  pique  a  gentleman,  for  his  own  credit, 
To  bring  what  was  a  jest  to  a  serious  end : 

For  all  men  prophesy  what  is  or  was, 

And  hate  those  who  won't  let  them  come  to  pass. 

LXXX. 
Juan  was  drawn  thus  into  some  attentions, 

Slight  but  select,  and  just  enough  to  express, 
To  females  of  perspicuous  comprehensions, 

That  he  would  rather  make  them  more  than  less. 
Aurora  at  the  last  (so  history  mentions, 

Though  probably  much  less  a  fact  than  guess) 
So  far  relaxed  her  thoughts  from  their  sweet  prison, 
As  once  or  twice  to  smile,  if  not  to  listen. 

LXXXI. 
From  answering  she  began  to  question :  this 

With  her  was  rare ;  and  Adeline,  who  as  yet 
Thought  her  predictions  went  not  much  amiss, 

Began  to  dread  she  'd  thaw  to  a  coquette — 
So  very  difficult,  they  say,  it  is 

To  keep  extremes  from  meeting,  when  once  set 
In  motion ;  but  she  here  too  much  refined — 
Aurora's  spirit  was  not  of  that  kind. 

LXXXII. 

But  Juan  had  a  sort  of  winning  way, 
A  proud  humility,  if  such  there  be, 


CANTO  XV.]  DON   JUAN.  567 

Which  showed  such  deference  to  what  females  say, 
As  if  each  charming  word  were  a  decree. 

His  tact,  too,  tempered  him  from  grave  to  gay, 
And  taught  him  when  to  be  reserved  or  free  : 

He  had  the  art  of  drawing  people  out, 

Without  their  seeing  what  he  was  about. 

LXXXIII. 
Aurora,  who  in  her  indifference 

Confounded  him  in  common  with  the  crowd 
Of  flatterers,  though  she  deemed  he  had  more  sense 

Than  whispering  foplings,  or  than  witlings  loud — 
Commenced1  (from  such  slight  things  will  great  com- 
mence) 

To  feel  that  flattery  which  attracts  the  proud 
Rather  by  deference  than  compliment, 
And  wins  even  by  a  delicate  dissent.1 

LXXXIV. 
And  then  he  had  good  looks ; — that  point  was  carried 

Nem.  con.  amongst  the  women,  which  I  grieve 
To  say  leads  oft  to  crim.  con.  with  the  married — 

A  case  which  to  the  juries  we  may  leave, 
Since  with  digressions  we  too  long  have  tarried. 

Now  though  we  know  of  old  that  looks  deceive, 
And  always  have  done, — somehow  these  good  looks 
Make  more  impression  than  the  best  of  books. 

LXXXV. 
Aurora,  who  looked  more  on  books  than  faces, 

Was  very  young,  although  so  very  sage, 
Admiring  more  Minerva  than  the  Graces, 

Especially  upon  a  printed  page. 
But  Virtue's  self,  with  all  her  tightest  laces, 

Has  not  the  natural  stays  of  strict  old  age ; 
And  Socrates,  that  model  of  all  duty, 
Owned  to  a.  penchant,  though  discreet,  for  beauty. 

i.  Sweet  Lord  !  she  was  so  sagely  innocent. — [MS.] 

i.  ["This  construction  ('commence'  with  the  infinitive)  has  been 
objected  to  by  stylists,"  says  the  New  English  Dictionary  (see  art. 
"Commence").  Its  use  is  sanctioned  by  the  authority  of  Pope, 
Landor,  Helps,  and  Lytton  ;  but  even  so,  it  is  questionable,  if  not 
objectionable.  ] 


5  68  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

LXXXVI. 
And  girls  of  sixteen  are  thus  far  Socratic, 

But  innocently  so,  as  Socrates ; 
And  really,  if  the  Sage  sublime  and  Attic 

At  seventy  years  had  phantasies  like  these, 
Which  Plato  in  his  dialogues  dramatic 

Has  shown,  I  know  not  why  they  should  displease 
In  virgins — always  in  a  modest  way, 
Observe, — for  that  with  me  's  a  sine  qua? 

LXXXVI  I. 

Also  observe,  that,  like  the  great  Lord  Coke 
(See  Littleton),  whene'er  I  have  expressed 

Opinions  two,  which  at  first  sight  may  look 
Twin  opposites,  the  second  is  the  best. 

Perhaps  I  have  a  third  too,  in  a  nook, 
Or  none  at  all — which  seems  a  sorry  jest : 

But  if  a  writer  should  be  quite  consistent, 

How  could  he  possibly  show  things  existent  ? 

LXXXVIII. 
If  people  contradict  themselves,  can  I 

Help  contradicting  them,  and  everybody, 
Even  my  veracious  self? — But  that 's  a  lie : 

I  never  did  so,  never  will — how  should  I  ? 
He  who  doubts  all  things  nothing  can  deny  : 

Truth's  fountains  may  be    clear — her    streams    are 

muddy, 

And  cut  through  such  canals  of  contradiction, 
That  she  must  often  navigate  o'er  fiction. 

LXXXIX. 
Apologue,  Fable,  Poesy,  and  Parable, 

Are  false,  but  may  be  rendered  also  true, 
By  those  who  sow  them  in  a  land  that 's  arable  : 

'T  is  wonderful  what  Fable  will  not  do  ! 
'T  is  said  it  makes  Reality  more  bearable  : 

But  what 's  Reality  ?    Who  has  its  clue  ? 
Philosophy  ?     No  ;  she  too  much  rejects. 
Religion  ?     Yes  ;  but  which  of  all  her  sects  ? 

i.  Subauditur  "  non  ;  "  omitted  for  the  sake  of  euphony. 


CANTO  XV.]  DON   JUAN.  569 

XC. 

Some  millions  must  be  wrong,  that 's  pretty  clear ; 

Perhaps  it  may  turn  out  that  all  were  right. 
God  help  us !     Since  we  have  need  on  our  career 

To  keep  our  holy  beacons  always  bright, 
'T  is  time  that  some  new  prophet  should  appear, 

Or  old  indulge  man  with  a  second  sight. 
Opinions  wear  out  in  some  thousand  years, 
Without  a  small  refreshment  from  the  spheres. 

xci. 
But  here  again,  why  will  I  thus  entangle 

Myself  with  Metaphysics  ?     None  can  hate 
So  much  as  I  do  any  kind  of  wrangle ; 

And  yet,  such  is  my  folly,  or  my  fate, 
I  always  knock  my  head  against  some  angle 

About  the  present,  past,  or  future  state  : 
Yet  I  wish  well  to  Trojan  and  to  Tyrian, 
For  I  was  bred  a  moderate  Presbyterian. 

xcn. 
But  though  I  am  a  temperate  theologian, 

And  also  meek  as  a  metaphysician, 
Impartial  between  Tyrian  and  Trojan, 

As  Eldon  1  on  a  lunatic  commission, — 
In  politics  my  duty  is  to  show  John 

Bull  something  of  the  lower  world's  condition. 
It  makes  my  blood  boil  like  the  springs  of  Hecla,2 
To  see  men  let  these  scoundrel  Sovereigns  break  law. 

XCIII. 

But  Politics,  and  Policy,  and  Piety, 

Are  topics  which  I  sometimes  introduce, 

1.  [John  Scott,  Earl  of  Eldon,  Lord  Chancellor,  1801  to  1827,  sat  as 
judge   (November   7,    1822)    to   hear   the   petition   of   Henry  Wallop 

Fellowes,  that  a  commission  of  inquiry  should  be  issued  to  ascertain 
whether  his  uncle,  Lord  Portsmouth  (who  married  Mary  Anne  Hanson, 
the  daughter  of  Byron's  solicitor),  was  of  sound  mind,  "and  capable 
of  managing  his  own  person  and  property."  The  Chancellor  gave 
judgment  that  a  commission  be  issued,  and  the  jury,  February,  1823, 
returned  a  verdict  that  Lord  Portsmouth  had  been  a  lunatic  since 
1809.  (See  Letters,  1898,  ii.  393,  note  3,  et  ibid.,  1901,  vi.  170,  note  i.)] 

2.  Hecla  is  a  famous  hot-spring  in  Iceland.     [Byron  seems  to  mis- 
take the  volcano  for  the  Geysers.] 


570  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xv. 

Not  only  for  the  sake  of  their  variety, 

But  as  subservient  to  a  moral  use  ; 
Because  my  business  is  to  dress  society, 

And  stuff  with  sage  that  very  verdant  goose. 
And  now,  that  we  may  furnish  with  some  matter  all 
Tastes,  we  are  going  to  try  the  Supernatural. 

xciv. 
And  now  I  will  give  up  all  argument ; 

And  positively,  henceforth,  no  temptation 
Shall  "  fool  me  to  the  top  up  of  my  bent :  " —  l 

Yes,  I  '11  begin  a  thorough  reformation. 
Indeed,  I  never  knew  what  people  meant 

By  deeming  that  my  Muse's  conversation 
Was  dangerous  ; — I  think  she  is  as  harmless 
As  some  who  labour  more  and  yet  may  charm  less. 

xcv. 
Grim  reader  !  did  you  ever  see  a  ghost  ? 

No ;  but  you  have  heard — I  understand — be  dumb  ! 
And  don't  regret  the  time  you  may  have  lost, 

For  you  have  got  that  pleasure  still  to  come  : 
And  do  not  think  I  mean  to  sneer  at  most 

Of  these  things,  or  by  ridicule  benumb 
That  source  of  the  Sublime  and  the  Mysterious : — 
For  certain  reasons  my  belief  is  serious. 

xcvi. 
Serious  ?    You  laugh ; — you  may  :  that  will  I  not ; 

My  smiles  must  be  sincere  or  not  at  all. 
I  say  I  do  believe  a  haunted  spot 

Exists — and  where  ?     That  shall  I  not  recall, 
Because  I  'd  rather  it  should  be  forgot, 

"  Shadows  the  soul  of  Richard  " 2  may  appal. 
In  short,  upon  that  subject  I  've  some  qualms  very 
Like  those  of  the  philosopher  of  Malmsbury.3 

1.  \Hamlet,  act  iii.  sc.  2,  line  367.] 

2.  ["  By  the  apostle  Paul,  shadows  to-night 

Have  struck  more  terror  to  the  soul  of  Richard 
Than  can  the  substance  of  ten  thousand  soldiers,"  etc. 

Richard  III.,  act  v.  sc.  3,  lines  216-218.] 

3.  Hobbes:  who,  doubting  of  bis  own  soul,  paid  that  compliment  to 


CANTO  XV.]  DON   JUAN.  571 

XCVII. 

The  night — (I  sing  by  night — sometimes  an  owl, 
And  now  and  then  a  nightingale) — is  dim, 

And  the  loud  shriek  of  sage  Minerva's  fowl 
Rattles  around  me  her  discordant  hymn : 

Old  portraits  from  old  walls  upon  me  scowl — 
I  wish  to  Heaven  they  would  not  look  so  grim ; 

The  dying  embers  dwindle  in  the  grate — 

I  think  too  that  I  have  sat  up  too  late : 

XCVIII. 

And  therefore,  though  't  is  by  no  means  my  way 
To  rhyme  at  noon — when  I  have  other  things 

To  think  of,  if  I  ever  think — I  say 

I  feel  some  chilly  midnight  shudderings, 

And  prudently  postpone,  until  mid-day, 
Treating  a  topic  which,  alas  !  but  brings 

Shadows ; — but  you  must  be  in  my  condition, 

Before  you  learn  to  call  this  superstition. 

xcix. 
Between  two  worlds  Life  hovers  like  a  star, 

'Twixt  Night  and  Morn,  upon  the  horizon's  verge. 
How  little  do  we  know  that  which  we  are ! 

How  less  what  we  may  be  ! 1     The  eternal  surge 
Of  Time  and  Tide  rolls  on  and  bears  afar 

Our  bubbles ;  as  the  old  burst,  new  emerge, 
Lashed  from  the  foam  of  ages ;  while  the  graves 
Of  Empires  heave  but  like  some  passing  waves.2 

the  souls  of  other  people  as  to  decline  their  visits,  of  which  he  had 
some  apprehension. 

[Bayle  (see  art.  "  Hobbes  "  [Diet.  Crit.  and  Hist.,  1736,  iii.  471, 
note  N.])  quotes  from  Vita  Hobb.,  p.  106 :  "  He  was  as  falsely  accused 
by  some  of  being  unwilling  to  be  alone,  because  he  was  afraid  of 
spectres  and  apparitions,  vain  bugbears  of  fools,  which  he  had  chased 
away  by  the  light  of  his  Philosophy, "  and  proceeds  to  argue  that,  per- 
haps, after  all,  Hobbes  was  afraid  of  the  dark.  ' '  He  was  timorous  to  the 
last  degree,  and  consequently  he  had  reason  to  distrust  his  imagination 
when  he  was  alone  in  a  chamber  in  the  night ;  for  in  spite  of  him  the 
memory  of  what  he  had  read  and  heard  concerning  apparitions  would 
revive,  though  he  was  not  persuaded  of  the  reality  of  these  things." 
See,  however,  for  his  own  testimony  that  he  was  ' '  not  afrayd  of 
sprights,"  Letters  and  Lives  of  Eminent  Persons,  by  John  Aubrey,  1813, 
vol.  ii.  pt.  ii.  p.  624.] 

1.  {Hamlet,  act  iv.  sc.  5,  lines  41,  42.] 

2.  End  of  Canto  15^  M"*  25,  1823.     B.—  [MS.] 


57 2  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 


CANTO   THE  SIXTEENTH.1 


THE  antique  Persians  taught  three  useful  things, 
To  draw  the  bow,  to  ride,  and  speak  the  truth.2 

This  was  the  mode  of  Cyrus,  best  of  kings — 
A  mode  adopted  since  by  modern  youth. 

Bows  have  they,  generally  with  two  strings  ; 
Horses  they  ride  without  remorse  or  ruth  ; 

At  speaking  truth  perhaps  they  are  less  clever, 

But  draw  the  long  bow  better  now  than  ever. 

n. 
The  cause  of  this  effect,  or  this  defect, — 

"  For  this  effect  defective  comes  by  cause," —  3 
Is  what  I  have  not  leisure  to  inspect ; 

But  this  I  must  say  in  my  own  applause, 
Of  all  the  Muses  that  I  recollect, 

Whate'er  may  be  her  follies  or  her  flaws 
In  some  things,  mine  's  beyond  all  contradiction 
The  most  sincere  that  ever  dealt  in  fiction. 

in. 
And  as  she  treats  all  things,  and  ne'er  retreats 

From  anything,  this  Epic  will  contain 
A  wilderness  of  the  most  rare  conceits, 

Which  you  might  elsewhere  hope  to  find  in  vain. 
'T  is  true  there  be  some  bitters  with  the  sweets. 

Yet  mixed  so  slightly,  that  you  can't  complain, 

1.  March  29,  1823. 

2.  [Herodotus,  Hist.,  i.  136.] 

3.  [Hamlet,  act  ii.  sc.  2,  line  103.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON    JUAN.  573 

But  wonder  they  so  few  are,  since  my  tale  is 
"  De  rebus  cunctis  et  quibusdam  aliis."  * 

IV. 

But  of  all  truths  which  she  has  told,  the  most 
True  is  that  which  she  is  about  to  tell. 

I  said  it  was  a  story  of  a  ghost — 

What  then  ?     I  only  know  it  so  befell. 

Have  you  explored  the  limits  of  the  coast, 

Where  all  the  dwellers  of  the  earth  must  dwell  ? 

'T  is  time  to  strike  such  puny  doubters  dumb  as 

The  sceptics  who  would  not  believe  Columbus. 

v. 
Some  people  would  impose  now  with  authority, 

Turpin's  or  Monmouth  Geoffry's  Chronicle ; 
Men  whose  historical  superiority 

Is  always  greatest  at  a  miracle. 
But  Saint  Augustine  has  the  great  priority, 

Who  bids  all  men  believe  the  impossible, 
Because  't  is  so.     Who  nibble,  scribble,  quibble,  he 
Quiets  at  once  with  "  quia  impossibile?  2 

VI. 

And  therefore,  mortals,  cavil  not  at  all ; 

Believe  : — if 't  is  improbable,  you  must, 
And  if  it  is  impossible,  you  shall: 

'T  is  always  best  to  take  things  upon  trust. 
I  do  not  speak  profanely  to  recall 

Those  holier  Mysteries  which  the  wise  and  just 
Receive  as  Gospel,  and  which  grow  more  rooted, 
As  all  truths  must,  the  more  they  are  disputed  : 

VII. 

I  merely  mean  to  say  what  Johnson  said, 
That  in  the  course  of  some  six  thousand  years, 

1.  [The  story  is  told  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  that  he  wrote  a  work 
De  Omnibus  Rebus,  which  was  followed  by  a  second  treatise,  DC  Quibus- 
dam Aliis, ,] 

2.  [Not  St.  Augustine,  but  Tertullian.     See  his  treatise,  De  Came 
Christi,  cap.  V.  c.  (Opera,  1744,  p.  310):  "Crucifixus  est  Dei  films  : 
non  pudet,  quia  pudendum  est :   et  mortuus  est  Dei  filius :   prorsus 
credibile  est,  quia  ineptum  est :  et  sepultus  resurrexit :  certum  est  quia 
impossibile  est."] 


574 


DON   JUAN. 


[CANTO  xvi. 


All  nations  have  believed  that  from  the  dead 

A  visitant  at  intervals  appears  : 1 
And  what  is  strangest  upon  this  strange  head, 

Is,  that  whatever  bar  the  reason  rears 
'Gainst  such  belief,  there  's  something  stronger  still 
In  its  behalf — let  those  deny  who  will. 

VIII. 

The  dinner  and  the  soiree  too  were  done, 

The  supper  too  discussed,  the  dames  admired, 

The  banqueteers  had  dropped  off  one  by  one — 
The  song  was  silent,  and  the  dance  expired : 

The  last  thin  petticoats  were  vanished,  gone 
Like  fleecy  clouds  into  the  sky  retired, 

And  nothing  brighter  gleamed  through  the  saloon 

Than  dying  tapers — and  the  peeping  moon. 

IX. 

The  evaporation  of  a  joyous  day 

Is  like  the  last  glass  of  champagne,  without 

The  foam  which  made  its  virgin  bumper  gay ; 
Or  like  a  system  coupled  with  a  doubt ; 

Or  like  a  soda  bottle  when  its  spray 
Has  sparkled  and  let  half  its  spirit  out ; 

Or  like  a  billow  left  by  storms  behind, 

Without  the  animation  of  the  wind ; 

x. 

Or  like  an  opiate,  which  brings  troubled  rest, 
Or  none ;  or  like — like  nothing  that  I  know 

Except  itself; — such  is  the  human  breast; 
A  thing,  of  which  similitudes  can  show 

No  real  likeness, — like  the  old  Tyrian  vest 
Dyed  purple,  none  at  present  can  tell  how, 

i.  ["That  the  dead  are  seen  no  more,"  said  Imlac,  "I  will  not 
undertake  to  maintain,  against  the  concurrent  and  unvaried  testimony 
of  all  ages,  and  of  all  nations.  There  is  no  people,  rude  or  unlearned, 
among  whom  apparitions  of  the  dead  are  not  related  and  believed. 
This  opinion,  which  perhaps  prevails  as  far  as  human  nature  is  diffused, 
could  become  universal  only  by  its  truth  ;  those  that  never  heard  of  one 
another  would  not  have  agreed  in  a  tale  which  nothing  but  experience 
can  make  credible.  That  it  is  doubted  by  single  cavillers,  can  very 
little  weaken  the  general  evidence ;  and  some,  who  deny  it  with  their 
tongues,  confess  it  with  their  fears." — Rasselas,  chap,  xxx.,  Works,  ed. 
1806,  iii.  372,  373.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  575 

If  from  a  shell-fish  or  from  cochineal.1 
So  perish  every  Tyrant's  robe  piece-meal ! 

XI. 

But  next  to  dressing  for  a  rout  or  ball, 
Undressing  is  a  woe ;  our  robe  de  chamlre 

May  sit  like  that  of  Nessus,2  and  recall 

Thoughts  quite  as  yellow,  but  less  clear  than  amber. 

Titus  exclaimed,  "  I  've  lost  a  day  !  "  3     Of  all 
The  nights  and  days  most  people  can  remember, 

(I  have  had  of  both,  some  not  to  be  disdained,) 

I  wish  they  'd  state  how  many  they  have  gained. 

XII. 

And  Juan,  on  retiring  for  the  night, 

Felt  restless,  and  perplexed,  and  compromised  : 
He  thought  Aurora  Raby's  eyes  more  bright 

Than  Adeline  (such  is  advice)  advised ; 
If  he  had  known  exactly  his  own  plight, 

He  probably  would  have  philosophised : 
A  great  resource  to  all,  and  ne'er  denied 
Till  wanted ;  therefore  Juan  only  sighed. 

XIII. 

He  sighed ; — the  next  resource  is  the  full  moon, 

Where  all  sighs  are  deposited ;  and  now 
It  happened  luckily,  the  chaste  orb  shone 

As  clear  as  such  a  climate  will  allow ; 
And  Juan's  mind  was  in  the  proper  tone 

To  hail  her  with  the  apostrophe — "  O  thou  ! " 
Of  amatory  egotism  the  Tuism,* 
Which  further  to  explain  would  be  a  truism. 

1.  The  composition  of  the  old  Tyrian  purple,  whether  from  a  shell- 
fish, or  from  cochineal,  or  from  kermes,  is  still  an  article  of  dispute; 
and  even  its  colour — some  say  purple,  others  scarlet :  I  say  nothing. 

[Kermes  is  cochineal,  the  Greek  K^KKIVOV.    The  shell-fish  (murex) 
is  the  Purpura  patula.     Both  substances  were  used  as  dyes.] 

2.  [See  Ovid,  Heroid,  Epist.  ix.  line  i6i.J 

3.  [Titus  used  to  promise  to  "  bear  in  mind,"  "  to  keep  on  his  list," 
the  petitions  of  all  his  supplicants,  and  once,  at  dinner-time,  his  con- 
science smote  him,  that  he  had  let  a  day  go  by  without  a  single  grant, 
or  pardon,  or  promotion.     Hence  his  confession.     "Amici,  diem  per- 
didi  !  "     Vide  Suetonius,  De  XII.  Cess.,  "Titus,"  lib.  viii.  cap.  8.] 

4.  [Tuism  is  not  in  Johnson's  Dictionary.      Coleridge  has  a  note 


576 


DON    JUAN. 


[CANTO  xvi. 


XIV. 

But  Lover,  Poet,  or  Astronomer — 
Shepherd,  or  swain — whoever  may  behold, 

Feel  some  abstraction  when  they  gaze  on  her  \ 

Great  thoughts  we  catch  from  thence  (besides  a  cold 

Sometimes,  unless  my  feelings  rather  err) ; 
Deep  secrets  to  her  rolling  light  are  told ; 

The  Ocean's  tides  and  mortals'  brains  she  sways, 

And  also  hearts — if  there  be  truth  in  lays. 

xv. 
Juan  felt  somewhat  pensive,  and  disposed 

For  contemplation  rather  than  his  pillow : 
The  Gothic  chamber,  where  he  was  enclosed, 

Let  in  the  rippling  sound  of  the  lake's  billow, 
With  all  the  mystery  by  midnight  caused  : 

Below  his  window  waved  (of  course)  a  willow ; 
And  he  stood  gazing  out  on  the  cascade 
That  flashed  and  after  darkened  in  the  shade. 

xvi. 
Upon  his  table  or  his  toilet,1 — which 

Of  these  is  not  exactly  ascertained, — 
(I  state  this,  for  I  am  cautious  to  a  pitch 

Of  nicety,  where  a  fact  is  to  be  gained,) 
A  lamp  burned  high,  while  he  leant  from  a  niche, 

Where  many  a  Gothic  ornament  remained, 
In  chiselled  stone  and  painted  glass,  and  all 
That  Time  has  left  our  fathers  of  their  Hall. 

XVII. 

Then,  as  the  night  was  clear  though  cold,  he  threw 
His  chamber  door  wide  open 2 — and  went  forth 

dated  1800  {Literary  Remains,  i.  292),  on  "egotizing  in  tuism,"  but  it 
was  not  included  in  Southey's  Omniana  of  1812,  and  must  have  been 
unknown  to  Byron.] 

1.  fSc.  toilette,  a  Gallicism.] 

2.  [Byron  loved  to  make  fact  and  fancy  walk  together,  but,  here,  his 
memory  played  him  false,  or  his  art  kept  him  true.     The  Black  Friar 
walked  and  walks  in  the  Guests'  Refectory  (or  Banqueting  Hall,  or 
"Gallery"  of  this  stanza),  which  adjoins  the  Prior's  Parlour,  but  the 
room  where  Byron  slept  (in  a  four-post  bed — a  coronet,  at  each  corner, 
atop)  is  on  the  floor  above  the  Prior's   Parlour,  and  can  only  be 
approached  by  a  spiral  staircase.    Both  rooms  look  west,  and  command 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  577 

Into  a  gallery  of  a  sombre  hue, 

Long,  furnished  with  old  pictures  of  great  worth, 
Of  knights  and  dames  heroic  and  chaste  too, 

As  doubtless  should  be  people  of  high  birth  ; 
But  by  dim  lights  the  portraits  of  the  dead 
Have  something  ghastly,  desolate,  and  dread. 

xvm. 
The  forms  of  the  grim  Knight  and  pictured  Saint 

Look  living  in  the  moon ;  and  as  you  turn 
Backward  and  forward  to  the  echoes  faint 

Of  your  own  footsteps — voices  from  the  Urn 
Appear  to  wake,  and  shadows  wild  and  quaint 

Start  from  the  frames  which  fence  their  aspects  stern, 
As  if  to  ask  how  you  can  dare  to  keep 
A  vigil  there,  where  all  but  Death  should  sleep. 

XIX. 

And  the  pale  smile  of  Beauties  in  the  grave, 
The  charms  of  other  days,  in  starlight  gleams, 

Glimmer  on  high ;  their  buried  locks  still  wave 
Along  the  canvas  ;  their  eyes  glance  like  dreams 

On  ours,  or  spars  within  some  dusky  cave,1 
But  Death  is  imaged  in  their  shadowy  beams. 

A  picture  is  the  past ;  even  ere  its  frame 

Be  gilt,  who  sate  hath  ceased  to  be  the  same. 

xx. 

As  Juan  mused  on  Mutability, 

Or  on  his  Mistress — terms  synonymous — 

No  sound  except  the  echo  of  his  sigh 

Or  step  ran  sadly  through  that  antique  house  : 

When  suddenly  he  heard,  or  thought  so,  nigh, 
A  supernatural  agent — or  a  mouse, 

a  view  of  the  "lake's  billow"  and  the  "cascade."  Moreover,  the 
Guests'  Refectory  was  never  hung  with  "  old  pictures."  It  would  seem 
that  Don  Juan  (perhaps  Byron  on  an  emergency)  slept  in  the  Prior's 
Parlour,  and  that  in  the  visionaiy  Newstead  the  pictures  forsook  the 
Grand  Drawing-Room  for  the  Hall.  Hence  the  scene !  El  Libertado 
steps  out  of  the  Gothic  Chamber  "forth"  into  the  "gallery,"  and  lo! 
"a  monk  in  cowl  and  beads."  But,  Quien  sabef  The  Psalmist's 
caution  with  regard  to  princes  is  not  inapplicable  to  poets.] 

i.  [Compare  Mariner's  description  of  the  cave  in  Hoonga  Island 
(Poetical  Works,  1901,  v.  629,  note  i).] 

VOL.  VI.  2    P 


57^  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

Whose  little  nibbling  rustle  will  embarrass 
Most  people  as  it  plays  along  the  arras. 

XXI. 

It  was  no  mouse — but  lo  !  a  monk,  arrayed  l 
In  cowl  and  beads,  and  dusky  garb,  appeared, 

Now  in  the  moonlight,  and  now  lapsed  in  shade, 
With  steps  that  trod  as  heavy,  yet  unheard ; 

His  garments  only  a  slight  murmur  made ; 
He  moved  as  shadowy  as  the  Sisters  weird,2 

But  slowly ;  and  as  he  passed  Juan  by, 

Glanced,  without  pausing,  on  him  a  bright  eye. 

XXII. 

Juan  was  petrified  j  he  had  heard  a  hint 

Of  such  a  Spirit  in  these  halls  of  old, 
But  thought,  like  most  men,  that  there  was  nothing  in  't 

Beyond  the  rumour  which  such  spots  unfold, 
Coined  from  surviving  Superstition's  mint, 

Which  passes  ghosts  in  currency  like  gold, 
But  rarely  seen,  like  gold  compared  with  paper. 
And  did  he  see  this  ?  or  was  it- a  vapour  ? 

1.  ["The  place,"  wrote  Byron  to  Moore,  August  13,  1814,  "is  worth 
seeing  as  a  ruin,  and  I  can  assure  you  there  was  some  fun  there,  even 
in  my  time ;  but  that  is  past.     The  ghosts,  however,  and  the  Gothics, 
and  the  waters,  and  the  desolation,  make  it  very  lively  still."     "It 
was,"  comments  Moore  (Life,  p.  262,  note  i),  "  if  I  mistake  not,  during 
his  recent  visit  to  Newstead,  that  he  himself  actually  fancied  he  saw  the 
ghost  of  the  Black  Friar,  which  was  supposed  to  have  haunted  the 
Abbey  from  the  time  of  the  dissolution  of  the  monasteries,  and  which 
he  thus  describes  from  the  recollection,  perhaps,  of  his  own  fantasy,  in 
Don  Juan.  ...  It  is  said  that  the  Newstead  ghost  appeared,  also,  to 
Lord  Byron's  cousin,  Miss  Fanny  Parkins,  and  that  she  made  a  sketch 
of  him  from  memory."    The  legend  of  the  Black  Friar  may,  it  is  be- 
lieved at  Newstead  \et  vide  post,  "  Song,"  stanza  ii.  line  5,  p.  583),  be 
traced  to  the  alarm  and  suspicion  of  the  country-folk,  who,  on  visiting 
the  Abbey,  would  now  and  then  catch  sight  of  an  aged  lay-brother,  or 
monkish  domestic,  who  had  been  retained  in  the  service  of  the  Byrons 
long  after  the  Canons  had  been  "turned  adrift."     He  would  naturally 
keep  out  of  sight  of  a  generation  who  knew  not  monks,  and,  when 
surprised  in  the  cloisters  or  ruins  of  the  church,  would  glide  back  to 
his  own  quarters  in  the  dormitories.] 

2.  ["Shew  his  eyes,  and  grieve  his  heart ; 

Come  like  shadows,  so  depart." 

Macbeth,  act  iv.  sc.  i,  lines  no,  in.] 


CANTO  XVI,]  DON   JUAN.  579 

XXIII. 

Once,  twice,  thrice  passed,  repassed — the  thing  of  air, 
Or  earth  beneath,  or  Heaven,  or  t'  other  place  ; 

And  Juan  gazed  upon  it  with  a  stare, 

Yet  could  not  speak  or  move  ;  but,  on  its  base 

As  stands  a  statue,  stood  :  he  felt  his  hair 
Twine  like  a  knot  of  snakes  around  his  face ; 

He  taxed  his  tongue  for  words,  which  were  not  granted, 

To  ask  the  reverend  person  what  he  wanted. 

XXIV. 

The  third  time,  after  a  still  longer  pause, 
The  shadow  passed  away — but  where  ?  the  hall 

Was  long,  and  thus  far  there  was  no  great  cause 
To  think  his  vanishing  unnatural : 

Doors  there  were  many,  through  which,  by  the  laws 
Of  physics,  bodies  whether  short  or  tall 

Might  come  or  go ;  but  Juan  could  not  state 

Through  which  the  Spectre  seemed  to  evaporate. 

xxv. 
He  stood — how  long  he  knew  not,  but  it  seemed 

An  age — expectant,  powerless,  with  his  eyes 
Strained  on  the  spot  where  first  the  figure  gleamed 

Then  by  degrees  recalled  his  energies, 
And  would  have  passed  the  whole  off  as  a  dream, 

But  could  not  wake  ;  he  was,  he  did  surmise, 
Waking  already,  and  returned  at  length 
Back  to  his  chamber,  shorn  of  half  his  strength. 

XXVI. 

All  there  was  as  he  left  it :  still  his  taper 
Burned,  and  not  blue,  as  modest  tapers  use, 

Receiving  sprites  with  sympathetic  vapour ; 
He  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  they  did  not  refuse 

Their  office  :  he  took  up  an  old  newspaper ; 
The  paper  was  right  easy  to  peruse ; 

He  read  an  article  the  King  attacking, 

And  a  long  eulogy  of  "  Patent  Blacking." 

XXVII. 

This  savoured  of  this  world ;  but  his  hand  shook  : 
He  shut  his  door,  and  after  having  read 


58°  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

A  paragraph,  I  think  about  Home  Tooke, 
Undressed,  and  rather  slowly  went  to  bed. 

There,  couched  all  snugly  on  his  pillow's  nook, 
With  what  he  had  seen  his  phantasy  he  fed ; 

And  though  it  was  no  opiate,  slumber  crept 

Upon  him  by  degrees,  and  so  he  slept. 

xxvm. 
He  woke  betimes ;  and,  as  may  be  supposed, 

Pondered  upon  his  visitant  or  vision, 
And  whether  it  ought  not  to  be  disclosed, 

At  risk  of  being  quizzed  for  superstition. 
The  more  he  thought,  the  more  his  mind  was  posed  : 

In  the  mean  time,  his  valet,  whose  precision 
Was  great,  because  his  master  brooked  no  less, 
Knocked  to  inform  him  it  was  time  to  dress. 

XXIX. 

He  dressed ;  and  like  young  people  he  was  wont 
To  take  some  trouble  with  his  toilet,  but 

This  morning  rather  spent  less  time  upon  't ; 
Aside  his  very  mirror  soon  was  put ; 

His  curls  fell  negligently  o'er  his  front, 

His  clothes  were  not  curbed  to  their  usual  cut, 

His  very  neckcloth's  Gordian  knot  was  tied 

Almost  an  hair's  breadth  too  much  on  one  side. 

XXX. 

And  when  he  walked  down  into  the  Saloon, 
He  sate  him  pensive  o'er  a  dish  of  tea, 

Which  he  perhaps  had  not  discovered  soon, 
Had  it  not  happened  scalding  hot  to  be, 

Which  made  him  have  recourse  unto  his  spoon ; 
So  much  distrait  he  was,  that  all  could  see 

That  something  was  the  matter — Adeline 

The  first — but  what  she  could  not  well  divine. 

XXXI. 

She  looked,  and  saw  him  pale,  and  turned  as  pale 
Herself;  then  hastily  looked  down,  and  muttered 

Something,  but  what 's  not  stated  in  my  tale. 
Lord  Henry  said,  his  muffin  was  ill  buttered  ; 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  581 

The  Duchess  of  Fitz-Fulke  played  with  her  veil, 
And  looked  at  Juan  hard,  but  nothing  uttered. 
Aurora  Raby  with  her  large  dark  eyes 
Surveyed  him  with  a  kind  of  calm  surprise. 

XXXII. 

But  seeing  him  all  cold  and  silent  still, 

And  everybody  wondering  more  or  less, 
Fair  Adeline  inquired,  "  If  he  were  ill  ?  " 

He  started,  and  said,  "  Yes — no — rather — yes." 
The  family  physician  had  great  skill, 

And  being  present,  now  began  to  express 
His  readiness  to  feel  his  pulse  and  tell 
The  cause,  but  Juan  said,  he  was  "  quite  well." 

XXXIII. 

"  Quite     well ;     yes,  —  no."  —  These    answers     were 
mysterious, 

And  yet  his  looks  appeared  to  sanction  both, 
However  they  might  savour  of  delirious ; 

Something  like  illness  of  a  sudden  growth 
Weighed  on  his  spirit,  though  by  no  means  serious  : 

But  for  the  rest,  as  he  himself  seemed  loth 
To  state  the  case,  it  might  be  ta'en  for  granted 
It  was  not  the  physician  that  he  wanted. 

xxxiv. 
Lord  Henry,  who  had  now  discussed  his  chocolate, 

Also  the  muffin  whereof  he  complained, 
Said,  Juan  had  not  got  his  usual  look  elate, 

At  which  he  marvelled,  since  it  had  not  rained ; 
Then   asked  her  Grace  what  news  were  of  the  Duke 
of  late  ? 

Her  Grace  replied,  his  Grace  was  rather  pained 
With  some  slight,  light,  hereditary  twinges 
Of  gout,  which  rusts  aristocratic  hinges. 

xxxv. 
Then  Henry  turned  to  Juan,  and  addressed 

A  few  words  of  condolence  on  his  state  : 
"  You  look,"  quoth  he,  "  as  if  you  had  had  your  rest 

Broke  in  upon  by  the  Black  Friar  of  late." 


582  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

"  What  Friar  ?  "  said  Juan  ;  and  he  did  his  best 

To  put  the  question  with  an  air  sedate, 
Or  careless ;  but  the  effort  was  not  valid 
To  hinder  him  from  growing  still  more  pallid. 

xxxvi. 
"  Oh  !  have  you  never  heard  of  the  Black  Friar? 

The  Spirit  of  these  walls  ?  "— "  In  truth  not  I." 
"  Why   Fame — but   Fame  you    know   's   sometimes  a 
liar — 

Tells  an  odd  story,  of  which  by  and  by : 
Whether  with  time  the  Spectre  has  grown  shyer, 

Or  that  our  Sires  had  a  more  gifted  eye 
For  such  sights,  though  the  tale  is  half  believed, 
The  Friar  of  late  has  not  been  oft  perceived. 

XXXVII. 

"  The  last  time  was " — "  I  pray,"  said  Adeline — 

(Who  watched  the  changes  of  Don  Juan's  brow, 

And  from  its  context  thought  she  could  divine 
Connections  stronger  than  he  chose  to  avow 

With  this  same  legend) — "  if  you  but  design 

To  jest,  you  '11  choose  some  other  theme  just  now, 

Because  the  present  tale  has  oft  been  told, 

And  is.  not  much  improved  by  growing  old." 

XXXVIII. 

"  Jest !  "  quoth  Milor ;  "  why,  Adeline,  you  know 
That  we  ourselves — 't  was  in  the  honey  moon — 

Saw " — "  Well,  no  matter,  't  was  so  long  ago  j 

But,  come,  I  '11  set  your  story  to  a  tune." 

Graceful  as  Dian  when  she  draws  her  bow, 

She  seized  her  harp,  whose  strings  were  kindled  soon 

As  touched,  and  plaintively  began  to  play 

The  air  of  "  'T  was  a  Friar  of  Orders  Gray."  L 

XXXIX. 

"  But  add  the  words,"  cried  Henry,  "  which  you  made ; 
For  Adeline  is  half  a  poetess," 

i.    With  that  she  rose  as  graceful  as  a  Roe 

Slips  from  the  mountain  in  the  month  of  June, 
And  opening  her  Piano  'gan  to  play 
Forthwith — "  //  was  a  Friar  of  Orders  Gray." — [AfS.  erased.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  583 

Turning  round  to  the  rest,  he  smiling  said. 

Of  course  the  others  could  not  but  express 
In  courtesy  their  wish  to  see  displayed 

By  one  three  talents,  for  there  were  no  less — 
The  voice,  the  words,  the  harper's  skill,  at  once, 
Could  hardly  be  united  by  a  dunce. 

XL. 
After  some  fascinating  hesitation, — 

The  charming  of  these  charmers,  who  seem  bound, 
I  can't  tell  why,  to  this  dissimulation, — 

Fair  Adeline,  with  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground 
At  first,  then  kindling  into  animation, 

Added  her  sweet  voice  to  the  lyric  sound, 
And  sang  with  much  simplicity, — a  merit 
Not  the  less  precious,  that  we  seldom  hear  it. 

i. 
Beware  !  beware  !  of  the  Black  Friar, 

Who  sitteth  by  Norman  stone, 
For  he  mutters  his  prayer  in  the  midnight  air, 

And  his  mass  of  the  days  that  are  gone. 
When  the  Lord  of  the  Hill,  Amundeville, 

Made  Norman  Church  his  prey, 
And  expelled  the  friars,  one  friar  still 

Would  not  be  driven  away. 

2. 
Though  he  came  in  his  might,  with  King  Henry's  right, 

To  turn  church  lands  to  lay, 
With  sword  in  hand,  and  torch  to  light 

Their  walls,  if  they  said  nay ; 
A  monk  remained,  unchased,  unchained, 

And  he  did  not  seem  formed  of  clay, 
For  he  's  seen  in  the  porch,  and  he  's  seen  in  the  church, 

Though  he  is  not  seen  by  day. 

3- 

And  whether  for  good,  or  whether  for  ill, 

It  is  not  mine  to  say ; 
But  still  with  the  house  of  Amundeville 

He  abideth  night  and  day. 


584  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

By  the  marriage-bed  of  their  lords,  't  is  said, 

He  flits  on  the  bridal  eve  ; 
And  't  is  held  as  faith,  to  their  bed  of  Death  *• 

He  comes — but  not  to  grieve. 

4- 
When  an  heir  is  born,  he  's  heard  to  mourn, 

And  when  aught  is  to  befall 
That  ancient  line,  in  the  pale  moonshine 

He  walks  from  hall  to  hall. 
His  form  you  may  trace,  but  not  his  face, 

'T  is  shadowed  by  his  cowl ; 
But  his  eyes  may  be  seen  from  the  folds  between, 

And  they  seem  of  a  parted  soul. 

5- 
But  beware  !  beware  !  of  the  Black  Friar, 

He  still  retains  his  sway, 
For  he  is  yet  the  Church's  heir, 

Whoever  may  be  the  lay. 
Amundeville  is  Lord  by  day, 

But  the  monk  is  Lord  by  night ; 
Nor  wine  nor  wassail  could  raise  a  vassal 

To  question  that  Friar's  right. 

6. 
Say  nought  to  him  as  he  walks  the  Hall, 

And  he  '11  say  nought  to  you ; 
He  sweeps  along  in  his  dusky  pall, 

As  o'er  the  grass  the  dew. 
Then  grammercy  !  for  the  Black  Friar ; 

Heaven  sain  him  !  fair  or  foul, — 
And  whatsoe'er  may  be  his  prayer, 

Let  ours  be  for  his  soul. 

XLI. 
The  lady's  voice  ceased,  and  the  thrilling  wires 

Died  from  the  touch  that  kindled  them  to  sound ; 
And  the  pause  followed,  which  when  song  expires 

Pervades  a  moment  those  who  listen  round ; 

i.  By  their  bed  of  death  he  receives  their  {breath}.—  [MS,  erased.} 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON    JUAN.  585 

And  then  of  course  the  circle  much  admires, 
Nor  less  applauds,  as  in  politeness  bound, 
The  tones,  the  feeling,  and  the  execution, 
To  the  performer's  diffident  confusion. 

XLII. 
Fair  Adeline,  though  in  a  careless  way, 

As  if  she  rated  such  accomplishment 
As  the  mere  pastime  of  an  idle  day, 

Pursued  an  instant  for  her  own  content, 
Would  now  and  then  as  't  were  without  display, 

Yet  with  display  in  fact,  at  times  relent 
To  such  performances  with  haughty  smile, 
To  show  she  could,  if  it  were  worth  her  while. 

XLIII. 
Now  this  (but  we  will  whisper  it  aside) 

Was — pardon  the  pedantic  illustration — 
Trampling  on  Plato's  pride  with  greater  pride, 

As  did  the  Cynic  on  some  like  occasion ; 
Deeming  the  sage  would  be  much  mortified, 

Or  thrown  into  a  philosophic  passion, 
For  a  spoilt  carpet — but  the  "  Attic  Bee  " 
Was  much  consoled  by  his  own  repartee.1 

XLIV. 
Thus  Adeline  would  throw  into  the  shade 

(By  doing  easily,  whene'er  she  chose, 
What  dilettanti  do  with  vast  parade) 

Their  sort  of  half  profession  ;  for  it  grows 
To  something  like  this  when  too  oft  displayed ; 

And  that  it  is  so,  everybody  knows, 

i.  I  think  that  it  was  a  carpet  on  which  Diogenes  trod,  with — "Thus 
I  trample  on  the  pride  of  Plato  !  " — "  With  greater  pride,"  as  the  other 
replied.  But  as  carpets  are  meant  to  be  trodden  upon,  my  memory 
probably  misgives  me,  and  it  might  be  a  robe,  or  tapestry,  or  a  table- 
cloth, or  some  other  expensive  and  uncynical  piece  of  furniture. 

[It  was  Plato's  couch  or  lounge  which  Diogenes  stamped  upon. 
"  So  much  for  Plato's  pride  !  "  "And  how  much  for  yours,  Diogenes?" 
"  Calco  Platonis  fastum  ! "  "  Ast  fastu  alio?  "  ( Vide  Diogenis  Laertii 
De  Vita  et  Sententiis,  lib.  vi.  ed.  1595,  p.  321.) 

For  "Attic  Bee,"  vide  Cic.  I.  De  Div.,  xxxvi.  §  78,  "At  Platoni 
cum  in  cunis  parvulo  dormienti  apes  in  labellis  consedissent,  responsum 
est,  singular!  ilium  suavitate  orationis  fore."] 


586  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

Who  have  heard  Miss  That  or  This,  or  Lady  T'other, 
Show  off — to  please  their  company  or  mother. 

XLV. 

Oh  !  the  long  evenings  of  duets  and  trios  ! 
The  admirations  and  the  speculations  ; 

The  "  Mamma  Mia's  ! "  and  the  "  Amor  Mio's !  " 
The  "  Tanti  palpiti's  "  on  such  occasions  : 

The  "  Lasciami's,"  and  quavering  "  Addio's," 
Amongst  our  own  most  musical  of  nations  ! 

With  "  Tu  mi  chamas's  "  from  Portingale,1 

To  soothe  our  ears,  lest  Italy  should  fail.2 
XLVI. 

In  Babylon's  bravnras — as  the  Home- 
Heart-Ballads  of  Green  Erin  or  Grey  Highlands, 

That  bring  Lochaber  back  to  eyes  that  roam 
O'er  far  Atlantic  continents  or  islands, 

The  calentures  3  of  music  which  o'ercome 

All  mountaineers  with  dreams  that  they  are  nigh  lands, 

No  more  to  be  beheld  but  in  such  visions — 

Was  Adeline  well  versed,  as  compositions. 

XLVI  I. 

She  also  had  a  twilight  tinge  of  "  Blue" 

Could  write  rhymes,  and  compose  more  than  she  wrote, 

1.  [For  two  translations  of  this  Portuguese  song,  see  Poetical  Works, 
1900,  iii.  71.] 

2.  I  remember  that  the  mayoress  of  a  provincial  town,  somewhat 
surfeited  with  a  similar  display  from  foreign  parts,  did  rather  in- 
decorously break  through  the  applauses  of  an  intelligent  audience — 
intelligent,  I   mean,  as  to  music — for  the  words,   besides  being  in 
recondite  languages  (it  was  some  years  before  the  peace,  ere  all  the 
world  had  travelled,  and  while  I  was  a  collegian),  were  sorely  disguised 
by  the  performers  : — this  mayoress,  I  say,  broke  out  with,  "  Rot  your 
Italianos  !  for  my  part,  I  loves  a  simple  ballat ! "     Rossini  will  go  a 
good  way  to  bring  most  people  to  the  same  opinion  some  day.     Who 
would  imagine  that  he  was  to  be  the  successor  of  Mozart  ?    However, 
I  state  this  with  diffidence,  as  a  liege  and  loyal  admirer  of  Italian 
music  in  general,  and  of  much  of  Rossini's ;  but  we  may  say,  as  the 
connoisseur  did  of  painting  in   The   Vicar  of  Wakefield,  that    ' '  the 
picture  would  be  better  painted  if  the  painter  had  taken  more  pains." 

[A  little  while,  and  Rossini  is  being  lauded  at  the  expense  of  a 
degenerate  modern  rival.  Compare  Browning's  Bishop  Blougrams 
Apology.  "  Where  sits  Rossini  patient  in  his  stall." — Poetical  Works, 
ed.  1868,  v.  276.] 

3.  [Compare    The   Two  Foscari,   act  iii.  sc.   i,  line  172,  Poetical 
Works,  1901,  v.  159,  note  i.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  587 

Made  epigrams  occasionally  too 

Upon  her  friends,  as  everybody  ought. 

But  still  from  that  sublimer  azure  hue,1 
So  much  the  present  dye,  she  was  remote ; 

Was  weak  enough  to  deem  Pope  a  great  poet, 

And  what  was  worse,  was  not  ashamed  to  show  it. 

XLVIII. 
Aurora — since  we  are  touching  upon  taste, 

Which  now-a-days  in  the  thermometer 
By  whose  degrees  all  characters  are  classed — 

Was  more  Shakespearian,  if  I  do  not  err. 
The  worlds  beyond  this  World's  perplexing  waste 

Had  more  of  her  existence,  for  in  her 
There  was  a  depth  of  feeling  to  embrace 
Thoughts,  boundless,  deep,  but  silent  too  as  Space. 

XLIX. 
Not  so  her  gracious,  graceful,  graceless  Grace, 

The  full-grown  Hebe  of  Fitz-Fulke,  whose  mind, 
If  she  had  any,  was  upon  her  face, 

And  that  was  of  a  fascinating  kind. 
A  little  turn  for  mischief  you  might  trace 

Also  thereon, — but  that 's  not  much ;  we  find 
Few  females  without  some  such  gentle  leaven, 
For  fear  we  should  suppose  us  quite  in  Heaven. 

L. 
I  have  not  heard  she  was  at  all  poetic, 

Though  once  she  was  seen  reading  the  Bath  Guide? 
And  Hayley's  Triumphs?  which  she  deemed  pathetic, 

Because  she  said  her  temper  had  been  tried 
So  much,  the  bard  had  really  been  prophetic 

Of  what  she  had  gone  through  with — since  a  bride. 
But  of  all  verse,  what  most  ensured  her  praise 
Were  sonnets  to  herself,  or  bouts  rimes. 

1.  [Of  Lady  Beaumont,  who  was  "  weak  enough  "  to  admire  Words- 
worth, see  The  Blues,  Eel.  II.  line  47,  sy.,  Poetical  Works,  1901,  iv. 
582.] 

2.  [Christopher  Anstey  (1724-1802)  published  his  New  Bath  Guide 
in  1766.] 

3.  [Compare  English  Bards,   etc.,  lines  309-318,  Poetical  Works, 
1898,  i.  321,  note  i.] 


588  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

LI. 

'T  were  difficult  to  say  what  was  the  object 

Of  Adeline,  in  bringing  this  same  lay 
To  bear  on  what  appeared  to  her  the  subject 

Of  Juan's  nervous  feelings  on  that  day. 
Perhaps  she  merely  had  the  simple  project 

To  laugh  him  out  of  his  supposed  dismay ; 
Perhaps  she  might  wish  to  confirm  him  in  it, 
Though  why  I  cannot  say — at  least  this  minute. 

LII. 

But  so  far  the  immediate  effect 

Was  to  restore  him  to  his  self-propriety, 

A  thing  quite  necessary  to  the  elect, 

Who  wish  to  take  the  tone  of  their  society  : 

In  which  you  cannot  be  too  circumspect, 
Whether  the  mode  be  persiflage  or  piety, 

But  wear  the  newest  mantle  of  hypocrisy, 

On  pain  of  much  displeasing  the  gynocracy.1 

mi. 

And  therefore  Juan  now  began  to  rally 
His  spirits,  and  without  more  explanation 

To  jest  upon  such  themes  in  many  a  sally. 
Her  Grace,  too,  also  seized  the  same  occasion, 

With  various  similar  remarks  to  tally, 

But  wished  for  a  still  more  detailed  narration 

Of  this  same  mystic  friar's  curious  doings, 

About  the  present  family's  deaths  and  wooings. 

LIV. 

Of  these  few  could  say  more  than  has  been  said ; 

They  passed  as  such  things  do,  for  superstition 
With  some,  while  others,  who  had  more  in  dread 

The  theme,  half  credited  the  strange  tradition ; 
And  much  was  talked  on  all  sides  on  that  head : 

But  Juan,  when  cross-questioned  on  the  vision, 
Which  some  supposed  (though  he  had  not  avowed  it) 
Had  stirred  him,  answered  in  a  way  to  cloud  it. 

I.  [For  "Gynocracy,"  vide  ante,  p.  473,  note  i.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON    JUAN.  589 

LV. 

And  then,  the  mid-day  having  worn  to  one, 

The  company  prepared  to  separate ; 
Some  to  their  several  pastimes,  or  to  none, 

Some  wondering  't  was  so  early,  some  so  late. 
There  was  a  goodly  match  too,  to  be  run 

Between  some  greyhounds  on  my  Lord's  estate, 
And  a  young  race-horse  of  old  pedigree, 
Matched  for  the  spring,  whom  several  went  to  see. 

LVI. 
There  was  a  picture-dealer  who  had  brought 

A  special  Titian,  warranted  original, 
So  precious  that  it  was  not  to  be  bought, 

Though  Princes  the  possessor  were  besieging  all — 
The  King  himself  had  cheapened  it,  but  thought 

The  civil  list  he  deigns  to  accept  (obliging  all 
His  subjects  by  his  gracious  acceptation) — 
Too  scanty,  in  these  times  of  low  taxation. 

LVII. 
But  as  Lord  Henry  was  a  connoisseur, — 

The  friend  of  Artists,  if  not  Arts, — the  owner, 
With  motives  the  most  classical  and  pure, 

So  that  he  would  have  been  the  very  donor, 
Rather  than  seller,  had  his  wants  been  fewer, 

So  much  he  deemed  his  patronage  an  honour, 
Had  brought  the  capo  <?  opera,  not  for  sale, 
But  for  his  judgment — never  known  to  fail. 

LVI  1 1. 

There  was  a  modern  Goth,  I  mean  a  Gothic 
Bricklayer  of  Babel,  called  an  architect,1' 

Brought  to  survey  these   grey  walls  which,   though  so 

thick, 
Might  have  from  Time  acquired  some  slight  defect ; 

Who,  after  rummaging  the  Abbey  through  thick 
And  thin,  produced  a  plan  whereby  to  erect 

New  buildings  of  correctest  conformation, 

And  throw  down  old — which  he  called  restoration?- 

i.   Thrower  down  of  buildings . — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  [Byron  had,  no  doubt,  inspected  the  plan  of  Colonel  Wildman's 


59°  DON  JUAN  [CANTO  xvi. 

LIX. 

The  cost  would  be  a  trifle — an  "  old  song," 
Set  to  some  thousands  ('t  is  the  usual  burden 

Of  that  same  tune,  when  people  hum  it  long) — 
The  price  would  speedily  repay  its  worth  in 

An  edifice  no  less  sublime  than  strong, 

By  which  Lord  Henry's  good  taste  would  go  forth  in 

Its  glory,  through  all  ages  shining  sunny, 

For  Gothic  daring  shown  in  English  money.1 

LX. 
There  were  two  lawyers  busy  on  a  mortgage 

Lord  Henry  wished  to  raise  for  a  new  purchase  ; 
Also  a  lawsuit  upon  tenures  burgage,2 

And  one  on  tithes,  which  sure  as  Discord's  torches, 
Kindling  Religion  till  she  throws  down  her  gage, 

"  Untying  "  squires  "  to  fight  against  the  churches ; "  3 

elaborate  restoration  of  the  Abbey,  which  was  carried  out  at  a  cost  of 
one  hundred  thousand  pounds  (see  stanza  lix.  lines  i,  2).  The  kitchen 
and  domestic  offices,  which  extended  at  right  angles  to  the  west  front 
of  the  Abbey  (see  "  Newstead  from  a  Picture  by  Peter  Tilleman,  circ. 
1720  "  (Letters,  1898,  i.  (to  face  p.)  216),  were  pulled  down  and  rebuilt, 
the  massive  Sussex  Tower  (so  named  in  honour  of  H.R.H.  the  Duke 
of  Sussex)  was  erected  at  the  south-west  corner  of  the  Abbey,  and  the 
south  front  was,  in  part,  rebuilt  and  redecorated.  Byron  had  been 
ready  to  "leave  everything "  with  regard  to  his  beloved  Newstead  to 
Wildman's  "own  feelings,  present  or  future"  (see  his  letter,  November 
18,  1818,  Letters,  1900,  iv.  270) ;  but  when  the  time  came,  the  necessary 
and,  on  the  whole,  judicious  alterations  of  his  successor,,  must  have 
cost  the  "  banished  Lord  "  many  a  pang.] 

1.  "Ausu   Romano,  aere  Veneto"  is  the  inscription  (and  well  in- 
scribed in  this  instance)  on  the  sea  walls  between  the  Adriatic  and 
Venice.    The  walls  were  a  republican  work  of  the  Venetians  ;  the  in- 
scription, I  believe,  Imperial ;  and'inscribed  by  Napoleon  the  First.    It 
is  time  to  continue  to  him  that  title — there  will  be  a  second  by  and  by, 
"  Spes  altera  mundi,"  if  he  live  ;  let  him  not  defeat  it  like  his  father. 
But  in  any  case,  he  will  be  preferable  to  "  Imblciles."    There  is  a 
glorious  field  for  him,  if  he  know  how  to  cultivate  it. 

[Francis  Charles  Joseph  Napoleon,  Duke  of  Reichstadt,  died  at 
Vienna,  July  22,  1832.  But,  none  the  less,  Byron's  prophecy  was 
fulfilled.] 

2.  [Burgage,  or  tenure  in  burgage,  is  where  the  king  or  some  other 
person  is  lord  of  an  ancient  borough,  in  which  the  tenements  are  held 
by  a  yearly  rent  certain.] 

3.  ["I  conjure  you,  by  that  which  you  profess, 

(Howe'er  you  come  to  know  it)  answer  me  : 
Though  you  untie  the  winds,  and  let  them  fight 
Against  the  churches." 

Macbeth,  act  iv.  sc.  i,  lines  50-53.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  591 

There  was  a  prize  ox,  a  prize  pig,  and  ploughman, 
For  Henry  was  a  sort  of  Sabine  showman. 

LXI. 
There  were  two  poachers  caught  in  a  steel  trap, 

Ready  for  gaol,  their  place  of  convalescence ; 
There  was  a  country  girl  in  a  close  cap 

And  scarlet  cloak  (I  hate  the  sight  to  see,  since — 
Since — since — in  youth,  I  had  the  sad  mishap — • 

But  luckily  I  have  paid  few  parish  fees  since) : l 
That  scarlet  cloak,  alas  !  unclosed  with  rigour, 
Presents  the  problem  of  a  double  figure. 

LXII. 
A  reel  within  a  bottle  is  a  mystery, 

One  can't  tell  how  it  e'er  got  in  or  out ; 
Therefore  the  present  piece  of  natural  history 

I  leave  to  those  who  are  fond  of  solving  doubt ; 
And  merely  state,  though  not  for  the  Consistory, 

Lord  Henry  was  a  Justice,  and  that  Scout 
The  constable,  beneath  a  warrant's  banner, 
Had  bagged  this  poacher  upon  Nature's  manor. 

LXIII. 
Now  Justices  of  Peace  must  judge  all  pieces 

Of  mischief  of  all  kinds,  and  keep  the  game 
And  morals  of  the  country  from  caprices 

Of  those  who  have  not  a  licence  for  the  same  ; 
And  of  all  things,  excepting  tithes  and  leases, 

Perhaps  these  are  most  difficult  to  tame : 
Preserving  partridges  and  pretty  wenches 
Are  puzzles  to  the  most  precautious  benches. 

LXIV. 
The  present  culprit  was  extremely  pale, 

Pale  as  if  painted  so  ;  her  cheek  being  red 
By  nature,  as  in  higher  dames  less  hale 

'T  is  white,  at  least  when  they  just  rise  from  bed. 
Perhaps  she  was  ashamed  of  seeming  frail, 

Poor  soul !  for  she  was  country  born  and  bred, 

i.  [See  the  lines  "To  my  Son,"  Poetical  Works,  1898,  i.  260,  note,  i.] 


592  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

And  knew  no  better  in  her  immorality 

Than  to  wax  white — for  blushes  are  for  quality. 

LXV. 
Her  black,  bright,  downcast,  yet  espiegle  eye, 

Had  gathered  a  large  tear  into  its  corner, 
Which  the  poor  thing  at  times  essayed  to  dry, 

For  she  was  not  a  sentimental  mourner 
Parading  all  her  sensibility, 

Nor  insolent  enough  to  scorn  the  scorner, 
But  stood  in  trembling,  patient  tribulation, 
To  be  called  up  for  her  examination. 

LXVI. 
Of  course  these  groups  were  scattered  here  and  there, 

Not  nigh  the  gay  saloon  of  ladies  gent.1 
The  lawyers  in  the  study  ;  and  in  air 

The  prize  pig,  ploughman,  poachers  :  the  men  sent 
From  town,  viz.  architect  and  dealer,  were 

Both  busy  (as  a  General  in  his  tent 
Writing  despatches)  in  their  several  stations, 
Exulting  in  their  brilliant  lucubrations. 

LXVI  I. 

But  this  poor  girl  was  left  in  the  great  hall, 
While  Scout,  the  parish  guardian  of  the  frail, 

Discussed  (he  hated  beer  yclept  the  "  small ") 
A  mighty  mug  of  moral  double  ale. 

She  waited  until  Justice  could  recall 
Its  kind  attentions  to  their  proper  pale, 

To  name  a  thing  in  nomenclature  rather 

Perplexing  for  most  virgins — a  child's  father. 

LXVIII. 
You  see  here  was  enough  of  occupation 

For  the  Lord  Henry,  linked  with  dogs  and  horses. 
There  was  much'  bustle  too,  and  preparation 

Below  stairs  on  the  score  of  second  courses ; 

i.   To  name  -what  passes  for  apu&zle  rather, 

Although  there  must  be  such  a  thing — a  father. — [MS.  erased.] 

i.  [See  Spenser's  Faery  Queen,  Book  I.  Canto  IX.  stanza  6,  line  i.] 


CANTO  XVI.] 


DON   JUAN. 


593 


Because,  as  suits  their  rank  and  situation, 

Those  who  in  counties  have  great  land  resources 
Have  "  public  days,"  when  all  men  may  carouse, 
Though  not  exactly  what 's  called  "  open  house." 

LXIX. 
But  once  a  week  or  fortnight,  uninvited 

(Thus  we  translate  a  general  invitation) 
All  country  gentlemen,  esquired  or  knighted, 

May  drop  in  without  cards,  and  take  their  station 
At  the  full  board,  and  sit  alike  delighted 

With  fashionable  wines  and  conversation ; 
And,  as  the  isthmus  of  the  grand  connection, 
Talk  o'er  themselves  the  past  and  next  election. 

LXX. 
Lord  Henry  was  a  great  electioneerer, 

Burrowing  for  boroughs  like  a  rat  or  rabbit. 
But  county  contests  cost  him  rather  dearer, 

Because  the  neighbouring  Scotch  Earl  of  Giftgabbit 
Had  English  influence,  in  the  self-same  sphere  here ; 

His  son,  the  Honourable  Dick  Dicedrabbit, 
Was  member  for  the  "  other  interest "  (meaning 
The  same  self-interest,  with  a  different  leaning). 

LXXI. 
Courteous  and  cautious  therefore  in  his  county, 

He  was  all  things  to  all  men,  and  dispensed 
To  some  civility,  to  others  bounty, 

And  promises  to  all — which  last  commenced 
To  gather  to  a  somewhat  large  amount,  he 

Not  calculating  how  much  they  condensed ; 
But  what  with  keeping  some,  and  breaking  others, 
His  word  had  the  same  value  as  another's. 

LXXII. 
A  friend  to  Freedom  and  freeholders — yet 

No  less  a  friend  to  Government — he  held, 
That  he  exactly  the  just  medium  hit 

'Twixt  Place  and  Patriotism — albeit  compelled, 
Such  was  his  Sovereign's  pleasure,  (though  unfit, 

He  added  modestly,  when  rebels  railed,) 


VOL.  vi. 


2  Q 


594  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

To  hold  some  sinecures  he  wished  abolished, 
But  that  with  them  all  Law  would  be  demolished. 

LXXIII. 
He  was  "  free  to  confess  " — (whence  comes  this  phrase  ? 

Is  't  English  ?     No — 'tis  only  parliamentary) 
That  Innovation's  spirit  now-a-days 

Had  made  more  progress  than  for  the  last  century. 
He  would  not  tread  a  factious  path  to  praise, 

Though  for  the  public  weal  disposed  to  venture  high ; 
As  for  his  place,  he  could  but  say  this  of  it, 
That  the  fatigue  was  greater  than  the  profit. 

LXXIV. 

Heaven,  and  his  friends,  knew  that  a  private  life 
Had  ever  been  his  sole  and  whole  ambition ; 

But  could  he  quit  his  King  in  times  of  strife, 

Which  threatened  the  whole  country  with  perdition  ? 

When  demagogues  would  with  a  butcher's  knife 
Cut  through  and  through  (oh  !  damnable  incision  !) 

The  Gordian  or  the  Grordi-an  knot,  whose  strings 

Have  tied  together  Commons,  Lords,  and  Kings. 

LXXV. 
Sooner  "  come  Place  into  the  Civil  List 

And  champion  him  to   the   utmost1 — "   he   would 

keep  it, 
Till  duly  disappointed  or  dismissed : 

Profit  he  cared  not  for,  let  others  reap  it ; 
But  should  the  day  come  when  Place  ceased  to  exist, 

The  country  would  have  far  more  cause  to  weep  it : 
For  how  could  it  go  on  ?     Explain  who  can  ! 
He  gloried  in  the  name  of  Englishman. 

LXXVI. 

He  was  as  independent — aye,  much  more — 

Than  those  who  were  not  paid  for  independence, 

As  common  soldiers,  or  a  common shore, 

Have  in  their  several  arts  or  parts  ascendance 

I.  ["  Rather  than  so,  come,  Fate,  into  the  list, 

And  champion  me  to  the  utterance." 

Macbeth,  act  iii.  sc.  i,  lines  70,  71.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  595 

O'er  the  irregulars  in  lust  or  gore, 

Who  do  not  give  professional  attendance. 
Thus  on  the  mob  all  statesmen  are  as  eager 
To  prove  their  pride,  as  footmen  to  a  beggar. 

LXXVII. 

All  this  (save  the  last  stanza)  Henry  said, 

And  thought.     I  say  no  more — I  've  said  too  much ; 

For  all  of  us  have  either  heard  or  read — 
Off — or  upon  the  hustings — some  slight  such 

Hints  from  the  independent  heart  or  head 
Of  the  official  candidate.     I  '11  touch 

No  more  on  this — the  dinner-bell  hath  rung, 

And  grace  is  said ;  the  grace  I  should  have  sung — 

LXXVIII. 
But  I  'm  too  late,  and  therefore  must  make  play. 

'T  was  a  great  banquet,  such  as  Albion  old 
Was  wont  to  boast — as  if  a  glutton's  tray 

Were  something  very  glorious  to  behold. 
But 't  was  a  public  feast  and  public  day, — 

Quite  full — right  dull — guests  hot,  and  dishes  cold, — 
Great  plenty,  much  formality,  small  cheer, — 
And  everybody  out  of  their  own  sphere. 

LXXIX. 
The  squires  familiarly  formal,  and 

My  Lords  and  Ladies  proudly  condescending ; 
The  very  servants  puzzling  how  to  hand 

Their  plates — without  it  might  be  too  much  bending 
From  their  high  places  by  the  sideboard's  stand — 

Yet,  like  their  masters,  fearful  of  offending  ; 
For  any  deviation  from  the  graces 
Might  cost  both  man  and  master  too — their  places. 

LXXX. 

There  were  some  hunters  bold,  and  coursers  keen, 
Whose  hounds  ne'er  erred,  nor  greyhounds  deigned  to 

lurch ; 

Some  deadly  shots  too,  Septembrizers,1  seen 
Earliest  to  rise,  and  last  to  quit  the  search 

i.  [For  "  Septemberers  (Septembriseurs),"  see  Carlyle's  French  Revo- 
lution, 1839,  iii.  50.] 


596  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

Of  the  poor  partridge  through  his  stubble  screen. 

There  were  some  massy  members  of  the  church, 
Takers  of  tithes,  and  makers  of  good  matches, 
And  several  who  sung  fewer  psalms  than  catches. 

LXXXI. 

There  were  some  country  wags  too — and,  alas ! 

Some  exiles  from  the  Town,  who  had  been  driven 
To  gaze,  instead  of  pavement,  upon  grass, 

And  rise  at  nine  in  lieu  of  long  eleven. 
And  lo  !  upon  that  day  it  came  to  pass, 

I  sate  next  that  o'erwhelming  son  of  Heaven, 
The  very  powerful  parson,  Peter  Pith,1 
The  loudest  wit  I  e'er  was  deafened  with. 

LXXXII. 
I  knew  him  in  his  livelier  London  days, 

A  brilliant  diner-out,  though  but  a  curate, 
And  not  a  joke  he  cut  but  earned  its  praise, 

Until  Preferment,  coming  at  a  sure  rate, 
(O  Providence  !  how  wondrous  are  thy  ways  ! 

Who  would  suppose  thy  gifts  sometimes  obdurate  ?) 
Gave  him,  to  lay  the  Devil  who  looks  o'er  Lincoln,2 
A  fat  fen  vicarage,  and  nought  to  think  on. 

1.  ["Query,  Sydney  Smith,  author  of  Peter  Plymley's  Letters?— 
Printer's  Devil." — Ed.   1833.      Byron  must  have  met  Sydney  Smith 
(1771-1845)  at  Holland  House.    The  "fat  fen  vicarage"  (vide  infra, 
stanza  Ixxxii.  line  8)  was  Foston-le-Clay  (Foston,  All  Saints),  near 
Barton  Hill,  Yorkshire,  which  Lord  Chancellor  Erskine  presented  to 
Sydney  Smith  in  1806.     The  "living"  consisted  of  "three  hundred 
acres  of  glebe-land  of  the  stiffest  clay,"  and  there  was  no  parsonage 
house. — See  A  Memoir  of  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith,  by  Lady  Holland, 
1855,  i.  100-107.] 

2.  ["Observe,  also,  three  grotesque  figures  in  the  blank  arches  of  the 
gable  which  forms  the  eastern  end  of  St.  Hugh's  Chapel,"  and  of  these, 
"one  is  popularly  said  to  represent  the  'Devil  looking  over  Lincoln.'" 
—Handbook  to  the  Cathedrals  of  England,  by  R.  J.   King,   Eastern 
Division,  p.  394,  note  x. 

The  devil  looked  over  Lincoln  because  the  unexampled  height  of  the 
central  tower  of  the  cathedral  excited  his  envy  and  alarm  ;  or,  as  Fuller 
(Worthies:  Lincolnshire)  has  it,  "overlooked  this  church,  when  first 
finished,  with  a  torve  and  tetrick  countenance,  as  maligning  men's  costly 
devotions."  So,  at  least,  the  vanity  of  later  ages  interpreted  the  saying ; 
but  a  time  was  when  the  devil  "looked  over  "  Lincoln  to  some  purpose, 
for  in  A.D.  1185  an  earthquake  clave  the  Church  of  Remigius  in  twain, 
and  in  1235  a  great  part  of  the  centra)  tower,  which  had  been  erected 
by  Bishop  Hugh  de  Wells,  fell  and  injured  the  rest  of  the  building.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  597 

LXXXIII. 

His  jokes  were  sermons,  and  his  sermons  jokes ; 

But  both  were  thrown  away  amongst  the  fens  ; 
For  Wit  hath  no  great  friend  in  aguish  folks.1- 

No  longer  ready  ears  and  short-hand  pens 
Imbibed  the  gay  bon-mot,  or  happy  hoax  :  "• 

The  poor  priest  was  reduced  to  common  sense, 
Or  to  coarse  efforts  very  loud  and  long, 
To  hammer  a  hoarse  laugh  from  the  thick  throng.1"- 

LXXXIV. 
There  is  a  difference,  says  the  song,  "  between 

A  beggar  and  a  Queen," l  or  was  (of  late 
The  latter  worse  used  of  the  two  we  've  seen — 

But  we  '11  say  nothing  of  affairs  of  state) ; 
A  difference  "  'twixt  a  Bishop  and  a  Dean," 

A  difference  between  crockery  ware  and  plate, 
As  between  English  beef  and  Spartan  broth — 
And  yet  great  heroes  have  been  bred  by  both. 

LXXXV. 
But  of  all  Nature's  discrepancies,  none 

Upon  the  whole  is  greater  than  the  difference 
Beheld  between  the  Country  and  the  Town, 

Of  which  the  latter  merits  every  preference 
From  those  who  have  few  resources  of  their  own, 

And  only  think,  or  act,  or  feel,  with  reference 
To  some  small  plan  of  interest  or  ambition — 
Both  which  are  limited  to  no  condition. 

LXXXVI. 
But  En  avant  I    The  light  loves  languish  o'er 

Long  banquets  and  too  many  guests,  although 

i.  For  laughter  rarely  shakes  these  aguish  folks. — [MS.  erased.} 

ii.   Took  down  the  gay  bon-mot . — [MS.  erased.} 

iii.  To  hammer  half  a  laugh .—[MS.  erased.} 

i.  ["There  's  a  difference  to  be  seen  between  a  beggar  and  a  Queen  ; 

And  I  '11  tell  you  the  reason  why  ; 
A  Queen  does  not  swagger,  nor  get  drunk  like  a  beggar, 

Nor  be  half  so  merry  as  I,"  etc. 
"There's  a  difference  to  be  seen,  'twixt  a  Bishop  and  a  Dean, 

And  I'll  tell  you  the  reason  why  ; 
A  Dean  can  not  dish  up  a  dinner  like  a  Bishop, 
And  that's  the  reason  why  !  "] 


598  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

A  slight  repast  makes  people  love  much  more, 
Bacchus  and  Ceres  being,  as  we  know, 

Even  from  our  grammar  upwards,  friends  of  yore 
With  vivifying  Venus,1  who  doth  owe 

To  these  the  invention  of  champagne  and  truffles  : 

Temperance  delights  her,  but  long  fasting  ruffles. 

LXXXVII. 
Dully  passed  o'er  the  dinner  of  the  day ; 

And  Juan  took  his  place,  he  knew  not  where, 
Confused,  in  the  confusion,  and  distrait, 

And  sitting  as  if  nailed  upon  his  chair : 
Though  knives  and  forks  clanked  round  as  in  a  fray, 

He  seemed  unconscious  of  all  passing  there, 
Till  some  one,  with  a  groan,  expressed  a  wish 
(Unheeded  twice)  to  have  a  fin  of  fish. 

LXXXVIII. 
On  which,  at  the  third  asking  of  the  banns, 

He  started ;  and  perceiving  smiles  around 
Broadening  to  grins,  he  coloured  more  than  once, 

And  hastily — as  nothing  can  confound 
A  wise  man  more  than  laughter  from  a  dunce — 

Inflicted  on  the  dish  a  deadly  wound, 
And  with  such  hurry,  that,  ere  he  could  curb  it, 
He  had  paid  his  neighbour's  prayer  with  half  a  turbot. 

LXXXIX. 
This  was  no  bad  mistake,  as  it  occurred, 

The  supplicator  being  an  amateur; 
But  others,  who  were  left  with  scarce  a  third, 

Were  angry — as  they  well  might,  to  be  sure, 
They  wondered  how  a  young  man  so  absurd 

Lord  Henry  at  his  table  should  endure ; 
And  this,  and  his  not  knowing  how  much  oats 
Had  fallen  last  market,  cost  his  host  three  votes. 

xc. 

They  little  knew,  or  might  have  sympathized, 
That  he  the  night  before  had  seen  a  ghost, 

i.  ["Sine  Cerere  et  Libero  friget  Venus." 

Terentius,  £un.,  act  iv.  sc.  5,  line  6.] 


CANTO  XVI.]          DON  JUAN.  599 

A  prologue  which  but  slightly  harmonized 
With  the  substantial  company  engrossed 

By  matter,  and  so  much  materialised, 

That  one  scarce  knew  at  what  to  marvel  most 

Of  two  things — how  (the  question  rather  odd  is) 

Such  bodies  could  have  souls,  or  souls  such  bodies  ! 

xci. 
But  what  confused  him  more  than  smile  or  stare 

From  all  the  'squires  and  'squiresses  around, 
Who  wondered  at  the  abstraction  of  his  air, 

Especially  as  he  had  been  renowned 
For  some  vivacity  among  the  fair, 

Even  in  the  country  circle's  narrow  bound — 
(For  little  things  upon  my  Lord's  estate 
Were  good  small  talk  for  others  still  less  great) — 

xci  r. 
Was,  that  he  caught  Aurora's  eye  on  his, 

And  something  like  a  smile  upon  her  cheek. 
Now  this  he  really  rather  took  amiss  ; 

In  those  who  rarely  smile,  their  smile  bespeaks 
A  strong  external  motive ;  and  in  this 

Smile  of  Aurora's  there  was  nought  to  pique, 
Or  Hope,  or  Love — with  any  of  the  wiles 
Which  some  pretend  to  trace  in  ladies'  smiles. 

XCIII. 

'T  was  a  mere  quiet  smile  of  contemplation, 

Indicative  of  some  surprise  and  pity ; 
And  Juan  grew  carnation  with  vexation, 

Which  was  not  very  wise,  and  still  less  witty, 
Since  he  had  gained  at  least  her  observation, 

A  most  important  outwork  of  the  city — 
As  Juan  should  have  known,  had  not  his  senses 
By  last  night's  Ghost  been  driven  from  their  defences. 

XCIV. 

But  what  was  bad,  she  did  not  blush  in  turn, 
Nor  seem  embarrassed — quite  the  contrary ; 

Her  aspect  was  as  usual,  still — ?wt  stern — 

And  she  withdrew,  but  cast  not  down,  her  eye, 


6oo  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

Yet  grew  a  little  pale — with  what  ?  concern  ? 

I  know  not ;  but  her  colour  ne'er  was  high — 
Though  sometimes  faintly  flushed — and  always  clear, 
As  deep  seas  in  a  sunny  atmosphere. 

xcv. 

But  Adeline  was  occupied  by  fame 

This  day ;  and  watching,  witching,  condescending 
To  the  consumers  of  fish,  fowl,  and  game, 

And  dignity  with  courtesy  so  blending, 
As  all  must  blend  whose  part  it  is  to  aim 

(Especially  as  the  sixth  year  is  ending) 
At  their  lord's,  son's,  or  similar  connection's 
Safe  conduct  through  the  rocks  of  re-elections. 

xcvi. 
Though  this  was  most  expedient  on  the  whole 

And  usual — Juan,  when  he  cast  a  glance 
On  Adeline  while  playing  her  grand  role, 

Which  she  went  through  as  though  it  were  a  dance, 
Betraying  only  now  and  then  her  soul 

By  a  look  scarce  perceptibly  askance 
(Of  weariness  or  scorn),  began  to  feel 
Some  doubt  how  much  of  Adeline  was  real ; 

xcvi  i. 
So  well  she  acted  all  and  every  part 

By  turns — with  that  vivacious  versatility, 
Which  many  people  take  for  want  of  heart. 

They  err — 't  is  merely  what  is  called  mobility,1 

i.  In  French  "mobilitt."  lam  not  sure  that  mobility  is  English; 
but  it  is  expressive  of  a  quality  which  rather  belongs  to  other  climates, 
though  it  is  sometimes  seen  to  a  great  extent  in  our  own.  It  may  be 
denned  as  an  excessive  susceptibility  of  immediate  impressions — at  the 
same  time  without  losing  the  past :  and  is,  though  sometimes  apparently 
useful  to  the  possessor,  a  most  painful  and  unhappy  attribute. 

["  That  he  was  fully  aware  not  only  of  the  abundance  of  this  quality 
in  his  own  nature,  but  of  the  danger  in  which  it  placed  consistency  and 
singleness  of  character,  did  not  require  the  note  on  this  passage  to 
assure  us.  The  consciousness,  indeed,  of  his  own  natural  tendency  to 
yield  thus  to  every  chance  impression,  and  change  with  every  passing 
impulse,  was  not  only  for  ever  present  in  his  mind,  but  .  .  .  had  the 
effect  of  keeping  him  in  that  general  line  of  consistency,  on  certain 
great  subjects,  which  ...  he  continued  to  preserve  throughout  life." 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  6oi 

A  thing  of  temperament  and  not  of  art, 

Though  seeming  so,  from  its  supposed  facility ; 
And  false — though  true';  for,  surely,  they  're  sincerest 
Who  are  strongly  acted  on  by  what  is  nearest. 

'  xcvui. 

This  makes  your  actors,  artists,  and  romancers, 
Heroes  sometimes,  though  seldom — sages  never : 

But  speakers,  bards,  diplomatists,  and  dancers, 
Little  that 's  great,  but  much  of  what  is  clever ; 

Most  orators,  but  very  few  financiers, 
Though  all  Exchequer  Chancellors  endeavour, 

Of  late  years,  to  dispense  with  Cocker's  rigours,1 

And  grow  quite  figurative  with  their  figures. 

xcix. 

The  poets  of  Arithmetic  are  they 

Who,  though  they  prove  not  two  and  two  to  be 
Five,  as  they  might  do  in  a  modest  way, 

Have  plainly  made  it  out  that  four  are  three, 
Judging  by  what  they  take,  and  what  they  pay  : 

The  Sinking  Fund's  unfathomable  sea, 
That  most  unliquidating  liquid,  leaves 
The  debt  unsunk,  yet  sinks  all  it  receives. 

c. 

While  Adeline  dispensed  her  airs  and  graces, 
The  fair  Fitz-Fulke  seemed  very  much  at  ease ; 

Though  too  well  bred  to  quiz  men  to  their  faces, 
Her  laughing  blue  eyes  with  a  glance  could  seize 

The  ridicules  of  people  in  all  places — 
That  honey  of  your  fashionable  bees — 

And  store  it  up  for  mischievous  enjoyment ; 

And  this  at  present  was  her  kind  employment. 

— Life,  p.  646.  "Mobility"  is  not  the  tendency  to  yield  to  every  im- 
pression, to  change  with  every  impulse,  but  the  capability  of  being 
moved  by  many  and  various  impressions,  of  responding  to  an  ever- 
renewed  succession  of  impulses.  Byron  is  defending  the  enthusiastic 
temperament  from  the  charge  of  inconstancy  and  insincerity.] 

i.  [The  first  edition  of  Cocker's  Arithmetic  was  published  in  1677. 
There  are  many  allusions  to  Cocker  in  Arthur  Murphy's  Apprentice 
(1756),  whence,  perhaps,  the  saying,  "according  to  Cocker."] 


602  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

ci. 

However,  the  day  closed,  as  days  must  close ; 

The  evening  also  waned — and  coffee  came. 
Each  carriage  was  announced,  and  ladies  rose, 

And  curtsying  off,  as  curtsies  country  dame, 
Retired :  with  most  unfashionable  bows 

Their  docile  Esquires  also  did  the  same, 
Delighted  with  their  dinner  and  their  Host, 
But  with  the  Lady  Adeline  the  most. 

en. 
Some  praised  her  beauty :  others  her  great  grace  ; 

The  warmth  of  her  politeness,  whose  sincerity 
Was  obvious  in  each  feature  of  her  face, 

Whose  traits  were  radiant  with  the  rays  of  verity. 
Yes ;  she  was  truly  worthy  her  high  place  ! 

No  one  could  envy  her  deserved  prosperity. 
And  then  her  dress — what  beautiful  simplicity 
Draperied  her  form  with  curious  felicity  ! l 

cm. 

Meanwhile  sweet  Adeline  deserved  their  praises, 

By  an  impartial  indemnification 
For  all  her  past  exertion  and  soft  phrases, 

In  a  most  edifying  conversation, 
Which  turned  upon  their  late  guests'  miens  and  faces, 

Their  families,  even  to  the  last  relation ; 
Their  hideous  wives,  their  horrid  selves  and  dresses, 
And  truculent  distortion  of  their  tresses. 

Civ. 
True,  she  said  little — 't  was  the  rest  that  broke 

Forth  into  universal  epigram ; 
But  then  't  was  to  the  purpose  what  she  spoke  : 

Like  Addison's  "  faint  praise,"  2  so  wont  to  damn, 
Her  own  but  served  to  set  off  every  joke, 

As  music  chimes  in  with  a  melodrama. 

1.  "[Et  Horatii]  Curiosa  felicitas." — Petronius  Arbiter,  Satyricon, 
cap.  cxviii. 

2.  ["  Damn  with  faint  praise,  assent  with  civil  leer, 

And  without  sneering,  teach  the  rest  to  sneer." 
Pope  on  Addison,  Prologue  to  the  Satires,  lines  201,  202.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  603 

How  sweet  the  task  to  shield  an  absent  friend  ! 
I  ask  but  this  of  mine,  to not  defend. 

cv. 
There  were  but  two  exceptions  to  this  keen 

Skirmish  of  wits  o'er  the  departed ;  one, 
Aurora,  with  her  pure  and  placid  mien ; 

And  Juan,  too,  in  general  behind  none 
In  gay  remark  on  what  he  had  heard  or  seen, 

Sate  silent  now,  his  usual  spirits  gone  : 
In  vain  he  heard  the  others  rail  or  rally, 
He  would  not  join  them  in  a  single  sally. 

cvi. 
'T  is  true  he  saw  Aurora  look  as  though 

She  approved  his  silence ;  she  perhaps  mistook 
Its  motive  for  that  charity  we  owe 

But  seldom  pay  the  absent,  nor  would  look 
Farther — it  might  or  it  might  not  be  so. 

But  Juan,  sitting  silent  in  his  nook, 
Observing  little  in  his  reverie, 
Yet  saw  this  much,  which  he  was  glad  to  see. 

cvi  i. 
The  Ghost  at  least  had  done  him  this  much  good, 

In  making  him  as  silent  as  a  ghost, 
If  in  the  circumstances  which  ensued 

He  gained  esteem  where  it  was  worth  the  most ; 
And,  certainly,  Aurora  had  renewed 

In  him  some  feelings  he  had  lately  lost, 
Or  hardened ;  feelings  which,  perhaps  ideal, 
Are  so  divine,  that  I  must  deem  them  real : — 

CVIII. 

The  love  of  higher  things  and  better  days ; 

The  unbounded  hope,  and  heavenly  ignorance 
Of  what  is  called  the  World,  and  the  World's  ways ; 

The  moments  when  we  gather  from  a  glance 
More  joy  than  from  all  future  pride  or  praise, 

Which  kindle  manhood,  but  can  ne'er  entrance 
The  Heart  in  an  existence  of  its  own, 
Of  which  another's  bosom  is  the  zone. 


604  DON   JUAN.  CANTO  XVI. 

CIX. 
Who  WOUld  not  sigh  A?  a?  rav  KvOep€tav l 

That  hath  a  memory,  or  that  had  a  heart  ? 
Alas  !  her  star  must  fade  like  that  of  Dian  : 

Ray  fades  on  ray,  as  years  on  years  depart. 
Anacreon  only  had  the  soul  to  tie  an 

Unwithering  myrtle  round  the  unblunted  dart 
Of  Eros  :  but  though  thou  hast  played  us  many  tricks, 
Still  we  respect  thee,  "  Alma  Venus  Genetrix  I "  2 

ex. 
And  full  of  sentiments,  sublime  as  billows 

Heaving  between  this  World  and  Worlds  beyond, 
Don  Juan,  when  the  midnight  hour  of  pillows 

Arrived,  retired  to  his ;  but  to  despond 
Rather  than  rest.     Instead  of  poppies,  willows 

Waved  o'er  his  couch ;  he  meditated,  fond 
Of  those  sweet  bitter  thoughts  which  banish  sleep, 
And  make  the  worldling  sneer,  the  youngling  weep. 

CXI. 

The  night  was  as  before :  he  was  undrest, 
Saving  his  night-gown,  which  is  an  undress ; 

Completely  sans  culotte,  and  without  vest ; 

In  short,  he  hardly  could  be  clothed  with  less  : 

But  apprehensive  of  his  spectral  guest, 
He  sate  with  feelings  awkward  to  express 

(By  those  who  have  not  had  such  visitations), 

Expectant  of  the  Ghost's  fresh  operations. 

cxn. 
And  not  in  vain  he  listened ; — Hush  !  what 's  that  ? 

I  see — I  see — Ah,  no ! — 't  is  not — yet 't  is — 
Ye  powers  !  it  is  the — the — the — Pooh  !  the  cat ! 

The  Devil  may  take  that  stealthy  pace  of  his  ! 
So  like  a  spiritual  pit-a-pat, 

Or  tiptoe  of  an  amatory  Miss, 

1.  [Bion,  Epitaphium  Adonidis,  line  28.] 

2.  [".  .  .  genetrix  hominum,  div6mque  voluptas, 

Alma  Venus ! " 

Lucret.,  De  Rerum  Nat.,  lib.  i.  lines  i,  2.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON   JUAN.  605 

Gliding  the  first  time  to  a  rendezvous, 

And  dreading  the  chaste  echoes  of  her  shoe. 

CXIII. 

Again — what  is  't  ?    The  wind  ?    No,  no, — this  time 

It  is  the  sable  Friar  as  before, 
With  awful  footsteps  regular  as  rhyme, 

Or  (as  rhymes  may  be  in  these  days)  much  more. 
Again  through  shadows  of  the  night  sublime, 

When  deep  sleep  fell  on  men,1  and  the  World  wore 
The  starry  darkness  round  her  like  a  girdle 
Spangled  with  gems — the  Monk  made  his  blood  curdle. 

cxiv. 
A  noise  like  to  wet  fingers  drawn  on  glass,2 

Which  sets  the  teeth  on  edge ;  and  a  slight  clatter, 
Like  showers  which  on  the  midnight  gusts  will  pass, 

Sounding  like  very  supernatural  water, 
Came  over  Juan's  ear,  which  throbbed,  alas  ! 

For  Immaterialism  's  a  serious  matter ; 
So  that  even  those  whose  faith  is  the  most  great 
In  Souls  immortal,  shun  them  tete-d-t$fe. 

cxv. 
Were  his  eyes  open  ? — Yes  !  and  his  mouth  too. 

Surprise  has  this  effect — to  make  one  dumb, 
Yet  leave  the  gate  which  Eloquence  slips  through 

As  wide  as  if  a  long  speech  were  to  come. 
Nigh  and  more  nigh  the  awful  echoes  drew, 

Tremendous  to  a  mortal  tympanum  : 
His  eyes  were  open,  and  (as  was  before 
Stated)  his  mouth.  What  opened  next  ?— the  door. 

cxvi. 
It  opened  with  a  most  infernal  creak, 

Like  that  of  Hell.     "  Lasciate  ogni  speranza, 

1.  [Job  iv.  13.] 

2.  See  the  account  of  the  ghost  of  the  uncle  of  Prince  Charles  of 
Saxony,  raised  by  Schroepfer — "  Karl — Karl — was  willst  du  mit  mir?" 

[For  Johann  Georg  Schrepfer  (1730  (?)-i774),  see  J.  S.  B.  Schlegel's 
Tagebuch,  etc.,  1806,  and  Schwdrmer  und  Schwindler,  von  Dr.  Eugen 
Sierke,  1874,  pp.  298-332.] 


606  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvi. 

Voi,  ch'  entrate  ! " 1    The  hinge  seemed  to  speak, 
Dreadful  as  Dante's  rima,  or  this  stanza ; 

Or — but  all  words  upon  such  themes  are  weak  : 
A  single  shade  's  sufficient  to  entrance  a 

Hero — for  what  is  Substance  to  a  Spirit  ? 

Or  how  is  't  Matter  trembles  to  come  near  it  ?  '• 

cxvn. 
The  door  flew  wide,  not  swiftly, — but,  as  fly 

The  sea-gulls,  with  a  steady,  sober  flight — 
And  then  swung  back  ;  nor  close — but  stood  awry, 

Half  letting  in  long  shadows  on  the  light. 
Which  still  in  Juan's  candlesticks  burned  high, 

For  he  had  two,  both  tolerably  bright, 
And  in  the  doorway,  darkening  darkness,  stood 
The  sable  Friar  in  his  solemn  hood. 

cxvin. 
Don  Juan  shook,  as  erst  he  had  been  shaken 

The  night  before ;  but  being  sick  of  shaking, 
He  first  inclined  to  think  he  had  been  mistaken  ; 

And  then  to  be  ashamed  of  such  mistaking ; 
His  own  internal  ghost  began  to  awaken 

Within  him,  and  to  quell  his  corporal  quaking — 
Hinting  that  Soul  and  Body  on  the  whole 
Were  odds  against  a  disembodied  Soul. 

cxix. 
And  then  his  dread  grew  wrath,  and  his  wrath  fierce, 

And  he  arose,  advanced — the  Shade  retreated ; 
But  Juan,  eager  now  the  truth  to  pierce, 

Followed,  his  veins  no  longer  cold,  but  heated, 
Resolved  to  thrust  the  mystery  carte  and  tierce > 

At  whatsoever  risk  of  being  defeated  : 
The  Ghost  stopped,  menaced,  then  retired,  until 
He  reached  the  ancient  wall,  then  stood  stone  still. 

cxx. 

Juan  put  forth  one  arm — Eternal  powers  ! 
It  touched  no  soul,  nor  body,  but  the  wall, 

i.    When  once  discovered  it  don't  like  to  come  near  it, — [MS.] 
i.  [f/i/erno,  Canto  III.  line  9.] 


CANTO  XVI.]  DON    JUAN.  607 

On  which  the  moonbeams  fell  in  silvery  showers, 
Chequered  with  all  the  tracery  of  the  Hall ; 

He  shuddered,  as  no  doubt  the  bravest  cowers 
When  he  can't  tell  what 't  is  that  doth  appal. 

How  odd,  a  single  hobgoblin's  nonentity 

Should  cause  more  fear  than  a  whole  host's  identity  ! 

cxxi. 

But  still  the  Shade  remained :  the  blue  eyes  glared, 

And  rather  variably  for  stony  death ; 
Yet  one  thing  rather  good  the  grave  had  spared, 

The  Ghost  had  a  remarkably  sweet  breath  : 
A  straggling  curl  showed  he  had  been  fair-haired ; 

A  red  lip,  with  two  rows  of  pearls  beneath, 
Gleamed  forth,  as  through  the  casement's  ivy  shroud 
The  Moon  peeped,  just  escaped  from  a  grey  cloud. 

CXXII. 

And  Juan,  puzzled,  but  still  curious,  thrust 
His  other  arm  forth — Wonder  upon  wonder  ! 

It  pressed  upon  a  hard  but  glowing  bust, 

Which  beat  as  if  there  was  a  warm  heart  under. 

He  found,  as  people  on  most  trials  must, 
That  he  had  made  at  first  a  silly  blunder, 

And  that  in  his  confusion  he  had  caught 

Only  the  wall,  instead  of  what  he  sought. 

CXXIII. 

The  Ghost,  if  Ghost  it  were,  seemed  a  sweet  soul 

As  ever  lurked  beneath  a  holy  hood : 
A  dimpled  chin,'-  a  neck  of  ivory,  stole 

Forth  into  something  much  like  flesh  and  blood ; 
Back  fell  the  sable  frock  and  dreary  cowl, 

And  they  revealed — alas  !  that  e'er  they  should  ! 
In  full,  voluptuous,  but  not  0Vrgrown  bulk, 
The  phantom  of  her  frolic  Grace — Fitz-Fulke  !  1 

i.  A  beardless  chin . — \MS.~\ 

i.  [End  of  Canto  16.     B.    My.  6,  1823.—  MS.] 


608  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvn. 


CANTO   THE    SEVENTEENTH.1 


i. 

THE  world  is  full  of  orphans  :  firstly,  those 
Who  are  so  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  phrase ; 

But  many  a  lonely  tree  the  loftier  grows 
Than  others  crowded  in  the  Forest's  maze — 

The  next  are  such  as  are  not  doomed  to  lose 
Their  tender  parents,  in  their  budding  days, 

But,  merely,  their  parental  tenderness, 

Which  leaves  them  orphans  of  the  heart  no  less. 

n. 
The  next  are  "  only  Children,"  as  they  are  styled, 

Who  grow  up  Children  only,  since  th'  old  saw 
Pronounces  that  an  "  only's  "  a  spoilt  child — 

But  not  to  go  too  far,  I  hold  it  law, 
That  where  their  education,  harsh  or  mild, 

Transgresses  the  great  bounds  of  love  or  awe, 

i.  [May  8,  1823. — MS.  More  than  one  "Seventeenth  Canto,"  or 
so-called  continuation  of  Don  Juan,  has  been  published.  Some  of 
these  "  Sequels  "  pretend  to  be  genuine,  while  others  are  undisguisedly 
imitations  or  parodies.  For  an  account  of  these  spurious  and  alto- 
gether worthless  continuations,  see  "  Bibliography,"  vol.  vii.  There 
was,  however,  a  foundation  for  the  myth.  Before  Byron  left  Italy 
he  had  begun  (May  8,  1823)  a  seventeenth  canto,  and  when  he  sailed 
for  Greece  he  took  the  new  stanzas  with  him.  Trelawny  found 
"fifteen  stanzas  of  the  seventeenth  canto  of  Don  Juan"  in  Byron's 
room  at  Missolonghi  (Recollections,  etc.,  1858,  p.  237).  The  MS., 
together  with  other  papers,  was  handed  over  to  John  Cam  Hobhouse, 
and  is  now  in  the  possession  of  his  daughter,  the  Lady  Dorchester. 
The  copyright  was  purchased  by  the  late  John  Murray.  The  fourteen 
(not  fifteen)  stanzas  are  now  printed  and  published  for  the  first  time.] 


CANTO  XVII.]  DON   JUAN.  609 

The  sufferers — be  't  in  heart  or  intellect — 
Whate'er  the  cause,  are  orphans  in  effect. 

ni. 

But  to  return  unto  the  stricter  rule — 

As  far  as  words  make  rules — our  common  notion 
Of  orphan  paints  at  once  a  parish  school, 

A  half-starved  babe,  a  wreck  upon  Life's  ocean, 
A  human  (what  the  Italians  nickname)  "  Mule  ! "  l 

A  theme  for  Pity  or  some  worse  emotion  ; 
Yet,  if  examined,  it  might  be  admitted 
The  wealthiest  orphans  are  to  be  more  pitied. 

IV. 

Too  soon  they  are  Parents  to  themselves  :  for  what 
Are  Tutors,  Guardians,  and  so  forth,  compared 

With  Nature's  genial  Genitors  ?  so  that 

A  child  of  Chancery,  that  Star-Chamber  ward, 

(I'll  take  the  likeness  I  can  first  come  at,) 
Is  like — a  duckling  by  Dame  Partlett  reared, 

And  frights — especially  if  't  is  a  daughter, 

Th'  old  Hen — by  running  headlong  to  the  water. 

v. 

There  is  a  common-place  book  argument, 
Which  glibly  glides  from  every  tongue ; 

When  any  dare  a  new  light  to  present, 

"  If  you  are  right,  then  everybody  's  wrong  "  ! 

Suppose  the  converse  of  this  precedent 
So  often  urged,  so  loudly  and  so  long ; 

"  If  you  are  wrong,  then  everybody  's  right "  ! 

Was  ever  everybody  yet  so  quite  ? 

VI. 

Therefore  I  would  solicit  free  discussion 

Upon  all  points — no  matter  what,  or  whose — 

Because  as  Ages  upon  Ages  push  on, 
The  last  is  apt  the  former  to  accuse 

"'  I.  The  Italians,  at  least  in  some  parts  of  Italy,  call  bastards  and 
foundlings  the  mules — why, I  cannot  see,  unless  they  mean  to  infer  that 
the  offspring  of  matrimony  are  asses. 

VOL.  VI.  2    R 


6  io  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvn. 

Of  pillowing  its  head  on  a  pin-cushion, 

Heedless  of  pricks  because  it  was  obtuse  : 
What  was  a  paradox  becomes  a  truth  or 
A  something  like  it — witness  Luther  ! 

VII. 

The  Sacraments  have  been  reduced  to  two, 
And  Witches  unto  none,  though  somewhat  late 

Since  burning  age*d  women  (save  a  few — 
Not  witches  only  b — ches — who  create 

Mischief  in  families,  as  some  know  or  knew, 
Should  still  be  singed,  but  lightly,  let  me  state,) 

Has  been  declared  an  act  of  inurbanity, 

Malgrt  Sir  Matthew  Hales's  great  humanity. 

VIII. 

Great  Galileo  was  debarred  the  Sun, 

Because  he  fixed  it ;  and,  to  stop  his  talking, 

How  Earth  could  round  the  solar  orbit  run, 

Found  his  own  legs  embargoed  from  mere  walking  : 

The  man  was  well-nigh  dead,  ere  men  begun 

To  think  his  skull  had  not  some  need  of  caulking ; 

But  now,  it  seems,  he  's  right — his  notion  just : 

No  doubt  a  consolation  to  his  dust. 

IX. 

Pythagoras,  Locke,  Socrates — but  pages 
Might  be  filled  up,  as  vainly  as  before, 

With  the  sad  usage  of  all  sorts  of  sages, 

Who  in  his  life-time,  each,  was  deemed  a  Bore ! 

The  loftiest  minds  outrun  their  tardy  ages  : 

This  they  must  bear  with  and,  perhaps,  much  more ; 

The  wise  man  's  sure  when  he  no  more  can  share  it,  he 

Will  have  a  firm  Post  Obit  on  posterity. 

x. 

If  such  doom  waits  each  intellectual  Giant, 

We  little  people  in  our  lesser  way, 
In  Life's  small  rubs  should  surely  be  more  pliant, 

And  so  for  one  will  I — as  well  I  may — 


CANTO  XVII.]  DON   JUAN.  6 1 1 

Would  that  I  were  less  bilious — but,  oh,  fie  on  't ! 

Just  as  I  make  my  mind  up  every  day, 
To  be  a  "  totus,  teres"  Stoic,  Sage, 
The  wind  shifts  and  I  fly  into  a  rage. 

XI. 

Temperate  I  am — yet  never  had  a  temper ; 

Modest  I  am — yet  with  some  slight  assurance ; 
Changeable  too — yet  somehow  "  Idem  semper : " 

Patient — but  not  enamoured  of  endurance ; 
Cheerful — but,  sometimes,  rather  apt  to  whimper : 

Mild — but  at  times  a  sort  of  "  Hercules  furens : " 
So  that  I  almost  think  that  the  same  skin 
For  one  without — has  two  or  three  within. 

XII. 

Our  Hero  was,  in  Canto  the  Sixteenth, 

Left  in  a  tender  moonlight  situation, 
Such  as  enables  Man  to  show  his  strength 

Moral  or  physical :  on  this  occasion 
Whether  his  virtue  triumphed — or,  at  length, 

His  vice — for  he  was  of  a  kindling  nation — 
Is  more  than  I  shall  venture  to  describe ; — 
Unless  some  Beauty  with  a  kiss  should  bribe. 

XIII. 

I  leave  the  thing  a  problem,  like  all  things  : — 
The  morning  came — and  breakfast,  tea  and  toast, 

Of  which  most  men  partake,  but  no  one  sings. 
The  company  whose  birth,  wealth,  worth,  has  cost 

My  trembling  Lyre  already  several  strings, 
Assembled  with  our  hostess,  and  mine  host ; 

The  guests  dropped  in — the  last  but  one,  Her  Grace, 

The  latest,  Juan,  with  his  virgin  face. 

XIV. 

Which  best  it  is  to  encounter — Ghost,  or  none, 
'Twere  difficult  to  say — but  Juan  looked 

As  if  he  had  combated  with  more  than  one, 

Being  wan  and  worn,  with  eyes  that  hardly  brooked 


612  DON  JUAN.  [CANTO  xvn. 

The  light,  that  through  the  Gothic  window  shone  : 

Her  Grace,  too,  had  a  sort  of  air  rebuked — 
Seemed  pale  and  shivered,  as  if  she  had  kept 
A  vigil,  or  dreamt  rather  more  than  slept. 


THE   END. 


I  HINTED    BY   WILLIAM   CLOWES   AND   SONS,   LIMITED, 
LONDON   AND   BECCLES. 


PR  Byron,  George  Gordon  Noel 

4-351  Byron,  6th  baron 

G5  Works     A  new,  rev.  and 

1898  enl.  ed. 

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