CCX. But soon Philosophy came to my aid, And whisper'd, "Think of every sacred tie!" 'I will, my dear Philosophy!" I said, "But then her teeth, and then, oh heaven! her eye! I'll just inquire if she be wife or maid, Or neither-out of curiosity." "Stop!" cried Philosophy, with air so Grecian Though she was mask'd then as a fair Venetian) CCXI. CANTO III. X I. "Stop!" so I stopp'd.-But to return: that which HAIL, Muse! et cetera.-We left Juan sleeping, Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast, Oh, love! what is it in this world of ours III. In her first passion woman loves her lover, 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. V. 'Tis 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 wineA sad, sour, sober beverage-by time Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavor Down to a very homely household savor. VI. There's something of antipathy, as 'twere, Between their present and their future state; A kind of flattery that's hardly fair Is used, until the truth arrives too lateYet what can people do, except despair? The same things change their names at such arate For instance-passion in a lover's glorious, But in a husband is pronounced uxorious. 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 'tis "so nominated in the bond," That both are tied till one shall have expired. There's doubtless something in domestic doings There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss; IX. All tragedies are finish'd 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, [riage, And then both worlds would punish their miscarSo leaving each their priest and prayer-book ready, They say no more of Death or of the Lady. X. The only two that in my recollection Have sung of heaven and hell, or marriage, are, Dante and Milton, and of both the affection Was hapless in their nuptials, for some bar Of fault or temper ruin'd the connexion,(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 XII. Haidee and Juan were not married, but The blame on me, unless you wish they were; XIII. Yet they were happy,-happy in the illicit 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 'tis 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, And merely practised as a sea-attorney. XV. The good old gentleman had been detain'd By winds and waves, and some important captures, And, in the hope of more, at sea remain'd, Although a squall or two had damped his raptures By swamping one of the prizes; he had chain'd His prisoners, dividing them like chapters, In number'd 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 Toss'd overboard unsaleable, (being old ;) The rest-save here and there some richer one, Reserved for future ransom in the hold,Were link'd alike; as for the common people, he Had a large order from the Dey of Tripoli. XVII. The merchandise was served in the same way, XVIII. A monkey, a Dutch mastiff, a mackaw, 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 Ithica, 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, XXI. Arriving at the summit of a hill Which overlook'd the white walls of his home, He stopp'd.-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. XXII. The approach of home to husbands and to sires, 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. You're wrong;-He was the mildest manner'd man Not that he was not sometimes rash or so, 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 But never in his real and serious mood; Then calm, concentrated, and still, and slow, He lay coil'd 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. ALIX. He ask'd no further questions, and proceeded For Haidee's sake, is more than I can say, 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,) He enter'd in the house, no more his home, Perhaps, than even the mental pangs of dying; To find our hearthstone turn'd 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 enter'd 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, With temperance in pleasure, as in food, LIV. The love of power, and rapid gain of gold, The wild seas and wild men with whom he cruised, LV. But something of the spirit of old Greece His predecessors in the Colchian days: |