DON JUAN.

435

He broke, 'tis true, some statutes of the lawsOr hunting—for tho sagest youth is frail;

Rode o’er the hounds, it may be, now and then,

And once o'er several country gentlemen.

XXXIV.

Bat, on the whole, to general admiration,

He acquitted both himself and horse: theBquires

Marvell’d at merit of another nation;

The boors cried “Dang it! who’d have thoughtit?”—Sires,

Ihe Nestors of the sporting generation,

Swore praises, and recall’d their former fires :The huntsman’s self relented to a grin,

And rated him almost a whipper-in.

XXXV.

Such were his trophies—not of spear and shield,But leaps, and bursts, aud sometimes foxes’brushes;

Yet I must own,—although in this I yieldTo patriot sympathy a Briton's blushes,—

He thought at heart, like courtly Chesterfield,

Who, after a long chase o’er hills, dales, bushes,And what not, though he rode beyond all price,Ask'd, next day, “If men ever hunted twice."

xxxvi.

He also had a quality uncommonTo early risers after a long chase,

Who wake, in winter, ere the cock can summonDecember’s drowsy day to his dull race,—

A quality agreeable to woman,

when her soft, liquid words run on apace,

Who likes a listener, whether saint or sinner,—

He did not fall asleep just after dinuer.

xxxvn.

But, light and airy, stood on the alert,

And shone in the best part of the dialogue,

By humouring always what they might assert,

And lisrening to the topics most in vogue:

Now grave, now gay, but never dull, or pert;

And smiling but iq secret—cunning rogue !

He ne’er presum’d to make an error clearer:—

In short, there never was a better hearer.

XXXVIII.

And then he danc’d .—all foreigners excelThe serious Angles in the eloquenceOf pantomime;—he daneed,«I say, right well,

With emphasis, and also with good sense—

A ttiing in footing indispensable;

He danc’d without theatrical pretence;

Aot like a ballet-master in the van

Of his drill'd nymphs, but like a gentleman

XXXIX.

Chaste were his step3, each kept within due bound,And elegance was sprinkled o'er his figure;

Bike swift Camilla, he scarce skimm’d theground,

And rather held in„ than put forth his vigour:And then he had an ear for music's sound,

Which might defy a crotchet pritic’s rigour;^ich classic pas— sans flaws—set off our hero;

He glanced like a personified Bolero;

XL.

Or like a flying Hour before Aurora,

In Guido's famous fresco, which aloneIs worth a tour to Itome, although no more aRemnant were there of the old world’s solethrone,

The “ tout ensemble " of his movements wore aGrace of the soft ideal, seldom shown.

And ne’er to be describ’d: for, to the dolourOf bards and proserB, words are void of colour.

XLI.

No marvel then he was a favourite:

A full-grown Cupid, very much admir’d;

A little spoilt, but by no means so quite:

At least, he kept his vanity retir’d.

Such was his tact, he could alike delightThe chaste, and those who arc not so much in-spir’d.

The Duchess of Fitz-Fulke, who loved “ tvarcassene,"

Began to treat him with some small “ agacerie.'xlii.

She was a fins and somewhat full-blown blonde,Desirable, distinguish d, celebrated,

For several winters in the grand, grand monde ,

I’d rather not say what might be relatedOf her exploits, for this were ticklish ground;Besides there might ho falsehood in what'sstated:

Her late performance had been a dead setAt Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet.

xnn.

This noble personago began to lookA little black upon this new flirtation:

But such small licences must lovers brook,

Here freedoms of the female corporation.

Woe to the man who ventures a rebuke!

'T will but precipitate a situationExtremely disagreeable, but commonTo calculators, when they count on woman.

XLIV.

The circle smil’d, then whisper’d, and thensneer’d;

The misses bridled, and the matrons frown'd;Some hop’d things might not turn out as the)fear’d;

Some would not deem such women could bofound;

Some ne’er believ’d one half of wlmt they heard,Some look’d perplex’d, aud others look’d pro-found :

And several pitied, with sincere regret,

Poor Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet.

XLV.

But what is odd, none ever nam’d the duko,

"Who, one might think, was something in theaffair •

True, he was absent, and, ’t was rumour’d, tookBut small concern about the when, or where,

Or what his consort did: if he could brookIler gaieties, none had a right to stare;

Theirs was that best of unions, past all doubt.Which never meets, aud therefore can't fall out

’ Sir, if you don’t choose to take the lead, let me ’’—was a phrase which generally sent the aspirant ontoif- \ ’ an< ^ t° good purpose: for though “the horse and rider” might fall, they made a gap, throughwhich, and over him aud his steed, the field might follow*