Don Juan

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by Lord George Gordon Byron


  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.

  44

  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,

  Who have heard Miss That or This or Lady T’other

  Show off to please their company or mother.

  45

  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

  To soothe our ears lest Italy should fail.

  46

  In Babylon’s bravuras – as the home

  Heart ballads of green Erin or grey Highlands,

  That brings Lochaber back to eyes that roam

  O’er far Atlantic continents or islands,

  The calentures 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.

  47

  She also had a twilight tinge of blue,

  Could write rhymes and compose more than she wrote,

  Made epigrams occasionally too

  Upon her friends, as everybody ought.

  But still from that sublimer azure hue,

  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.

  48

  Aurora – since we are touching upon taste,

  Which nowadays is 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.

  49

  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.

  50

  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 insured her praise

  Were sonnets to herself or bouts-rimés.

  51

  ’Twere 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.

  52

  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.

  53

  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.

  54

  Of these, few could say more than has been said;

  They passed, as such things do, for superstition

  With some, while others, who held 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.

  55

  And then the midday having worn to one,

  The company prepared to separate:

  Some to their several pastimes or to none,

  Some wondering ‘twas 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.

  56

  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.

  57

  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 d’opera, not for sale,

  But for his judgement, never known to fail.

  58

  There was a modern Goth, I mean a Gothic

  Bricklayer of Babel, called an architect,

  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.

  59

  The cost would be a trifle, an old song

  Set to some thousands (’tis the usual burthen

  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.

  60

  There were two lawyers busy on a mortgage

  Lord Henry wished to raise for a new purchase,

  Also a lawsuit upon tenures burgage,

  And one on tithes, which sure are Discord’s torches,

  Kindling Religion till she throws down her gage,

  ‘Untying’ squ
ires ‘to fight against the churches’.

  There was a prize ox, a prize pig, and ploughman,

  For Henry was a sort of Sabine showman.

  61

  There were two poachers caught in a steel trap,

  Ready for jail, 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).

  That scarlet cloak, alas, unclosed with rigour,

  Presents the problem of a double figure.

  62

  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.

  63

  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.

  64

  The present culprit was extremely pale,

  Pale as if painted so, her cheek being red

  By nature, as in higher dames less hale

  ’Tis 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

  And knew no better in her immorality

  Than to wax white – for blushes are for quality.

  65

  Her black, bright, downcast, yet espiègle 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.

  66

  Of course these groups were scattered here and there,

  Not nigh the gay saloon of ladies gent.

  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 dispatches) in their several stations,

  Exulting in their brilliant lucubrations.

  67

  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.

  68

  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,

  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’.

  69

  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 connexion

  Talk o’er themselves, the past and next election.

  70

  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 selfsame sphere here.

  His son, the Honourable Dick Dicedrabbit,

  Was member for the ‘other interest’ (meaning

  The same self-interest with a different leaning).

  71

  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.

  72

  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),

  To hold some sinecures he wished abolished,

  But that with them all law would be demolished.

  73

  He was ‘free to confess’ (whence comes this phrase?

  Is’t English? No, ’tis only parliamentary)

  That innovation’s spirit nowadays

  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.

  74

  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 Geordian knot, whose strings

  Have tied together Commons, Lords, and Kings.

  75

  Sooner ‘come place into the Civil List

  And champion him to the utmost.’ 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.

  76

  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

  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.

  77

  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

&n
bsp; Of the official candidate. I’ll touch

  No more on this. The dinner bell hath rung

  And grace is said, the grace I should have sung,

  78

  But I’m too late and therefore must make play.

  ’Twas a great banquet, such as Albion old

  Was wont to boast, as if a glutton’s tray

  Were something very glorious to behold.

  But ‘twas 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.

  79

  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 men and master too – their places.

  80

  There were some hunters bold and coursers keen,

  Whose hounds ne’er erred, nor greyhounds deigned lurch;

  Some deadly shots too, Septembrizers, seen

  Earliest to rise and last to quit the search

  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.

  81

  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,

  The loudest wit I e’er was deafened with.

  82

  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

  (Oh Providence! how wondrous are thy ways;

  Who would suppose thy gifts sometimes obdurate?)

  Gave him, to lay the devil who looks o’er Lincoln,

  A fat fen vicarage and nought to think on.

  83

  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.

  No longer ready ears and shorthand 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.

  84

  There is a difference, says the song, ‘between

 

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