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Laura, who knew it would not do at all She said,---what could she say? Why not To meet the daylight after seven hours
a word: sitting
But the Count courteously invited in Among three thousand people at a ball, The stranger, much appeased by what he To make her curtsy thought it right and
heard : fitting;
"Such things perhaps we'd best discuss The Count was at her elbow with her shawl,
within," And they the room were on the point of Said he, “don't let us make ourselves absurd
In public, by a scene, nor raise a din, When lo! those cursed gondoliers had got For then the chief and only satisfaction Just in the very place where they should not. Will be much quizzing on the whole trans
In this they're like our coachmen, and the
They enter'd, and for coffee callid, -it came, Is much the same, the crowd, and pulling, A beverage for Turks and Christians both,
Although the way they make it's not the With blasphemies enough to break their
Now Laura, much recover'd, or less loth They make a never intermitted bawling. To speak, cries “Beppo! what's your paganAt home, our Bow-street gemmen keep the
Bless me! your beard is of amazing And here a sentry stands within your calling;
growth! But, for all that, there is a deal of swearing, And how came you to keep away so long? And nanseous words past mentioning or Are you not sensible 'twas very wrong?
“And are you really, truly, now a Turk? The Count and Laura found their boat at With any other women did you wive?
Is't true they use their fingers for a fork ? And homeward floated o’er the silent Well, that's the prettiest shawl-as I'm tide,
alive! Discussing all the dances gone and past; You'll give it me? They say you eat no The dancers and their dresses, too, beside;
pork. Some little scandals eke: but all aghast And how so many years did you contrive (As to their palace - stairs the rowers To_Bless me! did I ever? No, I never
Saw a man grown so yellow! How's your Sate Laura by the side of her Adorer,
liver ? When lp! the Mussulman was there before
**Beppo! that board of yours becomes you not,
It shall be sbaved before you're a day "Sir,” said the Count, with brow exceeding
Why do you wear it? Oh! I had forgot“Your unexpected presence here will make Pray don't you think the weather here is It necessary for myself to crave
colder Its import? But perhaps 'tis a mistake; How do I look? You shan't stir from this spot I hope it is so; and at once to wave In that queer dress, for fear that some All compliment, I hope so for your sake;
beholder? You understand my meaning, or you shall.” Should find you out, and make the story “Sir,” (quoth the Turk) “ 'tis no mistake
known. at all. How short your hair is ! Lord! how gray
it's grown!” That lady is my wife!” Much wonder paints The lady's changing cheek, as well it might: What answer Beppo made to these demands, But where an English woman sometimes Is more than I know. He was cast away
About where Troy stood once, and nothing Italian females don't do so outright;
stands; They only call a little on their saints, Became a slave of course, and for his pay And then come to themselves, almost or Had bread and bastinadoes, till some bands
Of pirates landing in a neighbouring bay, Which saves much hartshorn, salts, and He join'd the rogues and prosperd, and sprinkling faces,
became And cutting stays, as usual in such cases. I A renegado of indifferent fame.
But he grew rich, and with his riches grew 80 | Or else the people would perhaps have shot Keen the desire to see his home again,
him ; He thought himself in duty bound to do so, And thus at Venice landed to reclaim And not be always thieving on the main ; His wife, religion, house, and Christian name. Lonely he felt, at times, as Robin Crusoe, And so he hired a vessel come from Spain, Bound for Corfu; she was a fine polacca, His wife received, the patriarch re-baptized Mann'd with twelve hands, and laden with
(He made the church a present by the way;) He then threw off the garments which dis
guised him, Himself, and much (heaven knows how And horrow'd the Count's small-clothes for gotten) cash,
a day; He then embark’d, with risk of life and limb, His friends the more for his long absence And got clear off, although the attempt was
prized him, Finding he'd wherewithal to make them
gay, He said that Providence protected him- With dinners, where he oft became the For my part, I say nothing, lest we clash
laugh of them, In our opinions :-well, the ship was trim, For stories,-but I don't believe the half Set sail, and kept her reckoning fairly on,
of them. Except three days of calm when off Cape
Whate'er his youth had suffer'd, his old age
With wealth and talking made him some They reach'd the island, he transferr'd his
amends ; lading,
Though Laura sometimes put him in a rage, And self and live-stock, to another bottom, I've heard the Count and he were always And pass'd for a true Turkey-merchant,
My pen is at the bottom of a page, With goods of various names, but I've for- Which being finish'd here the story ends ;
'Tis to be wish'd it had been sooner done, However, he got off by this evading, But stories somehow lengthen when begun.
DON JU A N.
"Difficile est proprie communia dicere."
And fill'd their sign-posts then, like Wel
lesley now; I want a hero: an uncommon want,
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs
stalk, When every year and month sends forth a Followers of fame, “nine farrow” of that
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau, Sent to the devil, somewhat ere his time.
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet, Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Dessaix, Hawke,
Moreau, Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Kep- With many of the military set,
pel, Howe, Exceedingly remarkable at times, Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk, But not at all adapted to my rhymes.
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war, His mother was a learned lady, famed
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
same none; So that if any actor miss'd his part But then they shone not on the poet's page, She could have served him for the promptAnd so have been forgotten :-I condemn
er's copy; none,
For her Feinagle's were a useless art, But can't find any in the present age And he himself obliged to shut up shop-he Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one); Could never make a memory so fine as So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan. That which adorn’d the brain of Donna Inez.
Most epic poets plunge in “medias res," Her favourite science was the mathematical, (Horace makes this the heroic turnpike- Her noblest virtue was her magnanimity,
Her wit (she sometimes tried at wit) was And then your hero tells, whene'er you
Attic all, please,
Her serious sayings darken’d to sublimity; What went before- by way of episode, In short, in all things she was fairly what While seated after dinner at his ease,
I call Beside his mistress in some soft abode, A prodigy-her morning-dress was dimity, Palace, or garden, paradise, or cavern, Her evening silk, or, in the summer, muslin, Which serves the happy couple for a tavern. And other stuffs, with which I won't stay
That is the usual method, but not mine-
prayer," Forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning, And Greek—the alphabat I'm nearly sure; And therefore I shall open with a line She read some French romances here and (Although it cost me half an hour in spinning)
there, Narrating somewhat of Don Juan's father, Although her mode of speaking was not And also of his mother, if you'd rather.
pure ; For native Spanish she had no great care,
At least her conversation was obscure; In Seville was he born, a pleasant city, Her thoughts were theorems, her words a Famous for oranges and women –he
problem, Who has not seen it will be much to pity, As if she deem'd that mystery would enSo says the proverb - and I quite agree;
noble 'em. Of all the Spanish towns is none more
pretty, Cadiz perhaps—but that you soon may see:- She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue, Don Juan's parents lived beside the river, And said there was analogy between 'em; A noble stream, and call’d the Guadalquivir. She proved it somehow out of sacred song,
But I must leave the proofs to those who've
seen 'em ; His father's name was Jóse- Don, of course, But this I heard her say, and can't be wrong, A true Hidalgo, free from every stain And all may think which way their judgOf Moor or Hebrew blood, he traced his
ments lean 'em,
“ Tis strange-the Hebrew noun which Through the most Gothic gentlemen of
means “I am," Spain;
The English always use to govern d-n." A better cavalier ne'er mounted horse, Or being mounted, e'er got down again, Than Jose, who begot our hero, who Regot- but that's to come-Well, to renew :
you all ?
In short she was a walking calculation, That you might "brain them with their Miss Edgeworth’s novels stepping from their
lady's fan;" covers,
And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard, Or Mrs. Trimmer's books on education, And fans turn into falchions in fair bands, Or “Coelebs' Wife” set out in quest of And why and wherefore no one understands.
lovers, Morality's prim personification, In which not Envy's self a flaw discovers ; \ 'Tis pity learned virgins ever wed To others' share let “female crrors fall," With persons of no sort of education, For she had not even one-the worst of all. Or gentlemen, who, though well-born and
Grow tired of scientific conversation : Oh! she was perfect past all parallel- I don't choose to say much upon this head, Of any modern female saint's comparison ; I'm a plain man and in a single station, So far above the cunning powers of hell, But-Oh! ye lords of ladies intellectual, Her guardian angel had given up his gar- Inform us truly, have they not hen-peck'd
rison; Even her minutest motions went as well As those of the best time-piece made by
Don Jóse and his lady quarrell'd—why, In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her, Not any of the many could divine, Save thine “incomparable oil,” Macassar! Though several thousand people chose to
'Twas surely no concern of theirs nor mine: Perfect she was, but as perfection is I loathe that low vice curiosity: Insipid in this naughty world of ours, But if there's any thing in which I shine, Where our first parents never learn’d to kiss 'Tis in arranging all my friends' affairs, Till they were exiled from their earlier Not having, of my own, domestic cares.
bowers, Where all was peace, and innocence, and
And so I interfered, and with the best (I wonder how they got through the twelve Intentions, but their treatment was not hours)
kind; Don Jóse like a lineal son of Eve,
I think the foolish people were possess'd, Went plucking various fruit without her For neither of them could I ever find,
Although their porter afterwards confessid-
For little Juan o'er me threw, down stairs, He was a mortal of the careless kind, A pail of housemaid's water unawares. With no great love for learning, or the
learn’d, Who chose to go where'er he had a mind, A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing, And never dream'd his lady was concernd : And mischief-making monkey from his The world, as usual, wickedly inclined
birth; To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn’d, His parents ne'er agreed except in doting Whisper'd he had a mistress, some said two, Upon the most unquiet imp on earth ; But for domestic quarrels one will do. Instead of quarrelling, had they been but
Their senses, they'd have sent young master Now Donna Inez had with all her merit,
forth A great opinion of her own good qualities; To school, or had him soundly whipp'd Neglect, indeed, requires a saint to bear it,
at home, And such, indeed, she was in her moralities; To teach him manners for the time to come. But then she had a devil of a spirit, And sometimes mix'd up fancies with re
Don Jóse and the Donna Inez led And let few opportunities escape
For some time an unhappy sort of life, Of getting her liege lord into a scrape. Wishing each other, not divorced, but
They lived respectably as man and wife, This was an easy matter with a man Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred, Oft in the wrong, and never on his guard; And gave no outward signs of inward strife, And even the wisest, do the best they can, Until at length the smother'd fire broke out, Have moments, hours, and days, so unpre-And put the business past all kind of pared,
For Inez call’d some druggists and physi- (Twere hard to tell upon a like occasion
To whom it may be best to have recourseAnd tried to prove her loving lord was mad, I can't say much for friend or yet relation): But as he had some lucid intermissions, The lawyers did their utmost for divorce, She next decided he was only bad; But scarce a fee was paid on either side Yet when they ask'd her for her depositions, Before, unluckily, Don Jóse died. No sort of explanation could be had, Save that her duty both to man and God Required this conduct -- which seem'd very He died: and most unluckily, because,
According to all hints I could collect,
(Although their talk's obscure and circumShe kept a journal, where his faults were
His death contrived to spoil a charıning And open'd certain trunks of books and
A thousand pities also with respect All which might, if occasion served, be To public feeling, which on this occasion
Was manifested in a great sensation.
But ah! he died! and buried with him lay The hearers of her case became repeaters, The public feeling and the lawyer's fees; Then advocates, inquisitors, and judges, His house was sold, his servants sent Some for amusement, others for old grudges.
A priest the other--at least so they say:
chose Never to say a word about them more- Yet Jóse was an honourable man, Calmly she heard each calumny that rose, That I must say, who knew him very well; And saw his agonies with such sublimity, Therefore his frailties I'll no further scan, That all the world exclaim'd, “What Indeed there were not many more to tell ;
magnanimity!" And if his passion now and then outran
Discretion, and were not so peaceable
As Numa's (who was also named Pompilius), No doubt, this patience, when the world He had been ill brought up, and was born is damning us,
bilions. Is philosophic in our former friends ; Tis also pleasant to be deem'd magnanimous, The more so in obtaining our own ends ; Whate'er might be his worthlessness or And what the lawyers call a "malus animus,"
worth, Conduct like this by no means comprehends: Poor fellow! he had inany things to wound Revenge in person's certainly no virtue,
him, But then 'tis not my fault if others hurt you. 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, And if our quarrels should rip up old stories, where all his household-gods lay shiver'd And help them with a lie or two additional,
round him; I'm not to blame, as you well know, no No choice was left his feelings or his pride
Save death or Doctors' Commons-so he died. Any one else— they were become traditional; Besides, their resurrection aids our glories By contrast, which is what we just were Dying intestate, Juan was sole heir
wishing all : To a chancery-suit, and messuages, and And science profits by this resurrection-
lands, Dead scandals form good subjects for dis- Which, with a long minority and care,
Promised to turn out well in proper hands:
And answer'd but to nature's just demands: Their friends had tried at reconciliation, An only son left with an only mother Then their relations, who made matters Is brought up much more wisely than