Don Juan
Page 25
43
As they were threading on their way, there came
Into Don Juan’s head a thought, which he
Whispered to his companion. ’Twas 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. ‘Twere easier done than said.’
44
‘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,
Tomorrow’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 beefsteak.
45
‘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.
’Tis therefore better looking before leaping,
And there, you see, this turn has brought us through.
By Jove, a noble palace – lighted too.’
46
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.
47
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.’
48
Some talk of an appeal unto some passion,
Some to men’s feelings, others to their reason.
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.
49
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 everyday behold,
Than that all-softening, overpowering knell,
The tocsin of the soul – the dinner bell.
50
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.
51
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, ’twas opened wide,
And a magnificent large hall displayed
The Asian pomp of Ottoman parade.
52
I won’t describe; description is my forte,
But every fool describes in these bright days
His wondrous journey to some foreign court
And spawns his quarto and demands your praise.
Death to his publisher, to him ’tis sport,
While Nature, tortured twenty thousand ways,
Resigns herself with exemplary patience
To guidebooks, rhymes, tours, sketches, illustrations.
53
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.
54
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 anywise.
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.
55
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,
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.
56
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’ll not say appals,
But saddens more by night as well as day
Than an enormous room without a soul
To break the lifeless splendour of the whole.
57
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 forevermore;
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.
58
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.
I pass my evenings in long galleries solely,
And that’s the reason I’m so melancholy.
59
Alas, man makes that great which makes him little.
I grant you in a church ’tis 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.
60
Babel was Nimrod’s hunting box, and then
A town of gardens, walls, and wealth amazing,
Where Nabuchadonosor, 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.
’Twas famous too for Thisbe and for Pyramus
And the calumniated Queen Semiramis.
61
That injured queen, by chroniclers 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’.
I wish the case could come before a jury here.
62
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)
Believe the Jews, those unbelievers, who
Must be believed, though they believe not you.
63
Yet let them think that Horace has exprest
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,
And et sepulcri immemor struts domos
Shows that we build when we should but entomb us.
64
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.
65
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 ’twas 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.
66
The black, however, without hardly deigning
A glance at that which wrapt 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 –
67
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.
68
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 Cahmere had been nurst,
Slippers of saffron, dagger rich and handy;
In short, all things which form a Turkish dandy.
69
While he was dressing, Baba, their black friend,
Hinted the vast advantages which they
Might probably obtain 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
’Twould greatly tend to better their condition,
If they would condescend to circumcision.
70
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.
71
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!
72
‘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 supt,
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.’
73
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.’
74
‘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. Twill transpire
No doubt in proper place and time and season;
I have no authority to tell the reason.’
75
‘Then if I do, ’ said Juan, ‘I’ll 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.
76
‘I offer you a handsome suit of clothes,
A woman’s, true, but then there is a cause
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
&n
bsp; Which e’er set off a marriage–morning face.
77
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) –
78
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.
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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.
80
And now being femininely all arrayed,
With some small aid from scissors, paint, and tweezers,
He looked in almost all respects a maid,
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.
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‘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, ’tis a palace, where the truly wise
Anticipate the Prophet’s paradise.
82
‘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 everybody’s sake
That this disguise may lead to no mistake.’
83
‘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.