XXXVII. And, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but And prophecy-except it should be dated XXXVIII. Praised be all liars and all lies! Who now Can tax my mild Muse with misanthropy? 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) Bestow'd upon him, as the public learn'd; And, to say truth, it had been fairly earn'd. (1) [See the Irish Avatar, antè, Vol. XI. p. 320.] VOL. XVII. C XL. Besides the ministers and underlings, Who must be courteous to the accredited The very clerks,—those somewhat dirty springs By foul corruption into streams,—even they XLI. And insolence no doubt is what they are Employ'd for, since it is their daily labour, In the dear offices of peace or war; [neighbour, And should you doubt, pray ask of your next When for a passport, or some other bar To freedom, he applied (a grief and a bore), If he found not this spawn of taxborn riches, Like lap-dogs, the least civil sons of b- S. XLII. But Juan was received with much " ment:". empresse These phrases of refinement I must borrow From our next neighbours' land, where, like a chess man, 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 In politesse, and have a sound affronting in't:— But "Damme"'s quite ethereal, though too daringPlatonic blasphemy, the soul of swearing. XLIV. For downright rudeness, ye may stay at home; XLV. In the great world,-which, being interpreted, And look down on the universe with pity, Juan, as an inveterate patrician, Was well received by persons of condition. (1) "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." 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) 'Tis 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, [had And parts, and hearts: he danced and sung, and An air as sentimental as Mozart's Softest of melodies; and could be sad Or cheerful, without any "flaws or starts," (1) XLVIII. Fair virgins blush'd upon him; wedded dames Such as no gentleman can quite refuse: XLIX. The milliners who furnish " drapery Misses"(1) Not to be overlook'd-and gave such credit, L. The Blues, that tender tribe, who sigh o'er sonnets, (1) "Drapery Misses."- This term is probably any thing now but a mystery. It was, however, almost so to me when I first returned from the East in 1811-1812. It means a pretty, a high-born, a 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. |