438

BYRON'S WORKS.

XCVIII.

Whether they rode, or walk’d, or studied Spanish ,To read Don Quixote in the original,

A pleasure before which all others vanish:

Whether their talk was of the kind call’d“ small,”

Or serious, are the topics I must banishTo the next Canto; where perhaps I shallSay something to the purpose, and displayConsiderable talent in my way.

xcix.

Above all, I beg all men to forbearAnticipating aught about the matter.

They’ll only make mistakes about the fair,

And Juan, too, especially the latter.

And I shall take a much more serious air,

Than 1 have yet done, in this epic satire,it is not clear that Adeline and JuanWill fall; but if they do, 'twill be their ruin.

c.

But great things spring from littleWould youthink

That, in our youth, as dangerous a passionAs e'er brought man and woman to the brinkOf ruin, rose from such a slight occasion,

As few would ever dream could form the linkOf such a sentimental situation?

You'll never guess, I’ll bet you millions, milliards—It all sprung from a harmless game at billiards.

cr.

Tis strange, — but true: for truth is alwaysstrange;

Stranger than fiction : if it could be told,

How much would novels gain by the exchange!

How differently the world would men behold!IIovv oft would vice and virtue places change!

The new world would be nothing to the old,

If some Columbus of the moral seasWould show mankind their souls’ antipodes.

err.

What “ antres vast and deserts idle ” thenWould be discover’d in the human soul!

What icebergs in the hearts of mighty men,

With self-love in the centre, as their pole!

What Anthropophagi are nine of tenOf those who hold the kingdoms in control!Were things but only call'd by their right name,Cassar himself would he asham’d of fame.

CANTO THE FIFTEENTH.

i.

Ah !—What Bhould follow, slips from my reflec-tion:

Whatever follows ne’ertheless may boAs ft-propos of hope or retrospectionAs though the lurking thought had follow’d free,All present life is but an interjection,

An “ Oh!” or “ Ah!” of joy or misery,

Or a “ Ha! ha or “ Bah !”—a yawn, or 61 Pooh 1”Qf which perhaps the latter is most true.

ii.

But, more or less, the whole's a syncopdOr a singultus—emblems of emotion,

The grand antithesis to great ennui,

Wherewith we break our bubbles on the ocean,That watery outline of eternity,

Or miniature, at least, as in my notion,

Which ministers unto the soul’s delight,

In seeing matters which are out of sight.

m.

But all are better than the sigh supprest,

Corroding in the cavern of the heart,

Making the countenance a mask of rest,

And turning human nature to an art.

Few men dare show their thoughts of worst ofbest:

Dissimulation always sets apartA corner for herself; and therefore fictionIs that which passes with least contradiction.

IV.

Ah! who can tell? Or rather who can notRemember, without telling, passion’s errors ?

The drainer of oblivion, even the sot,

Hath got blue devils for his morning mirrors:What though on Lethe’s stream he seem to float,He cannot sink his tremors or his terrors:

The ruby glass that shakes within, his hand,

Leaves a sad sediment of Time’s worst sand.

v.

And a3 for love—0 love!-We will proceed.

The Lady Adeline Amnndeville,

A pretty name as one would wish to read.

Must perch harmonious on my tuneful quill.There’s music in the sighing of a reed;

There's music in the gushing of a rill;

There’s music in all things, if men had ears:

Their earth is but an echo of the spheres.

VI.

The Lady Adeline, right honourable,

And honour’d, ran a risk of growing less so:

For few of the soft sex are very BtableIn their resolves—alas! that I should say so!They differ as wine differs from its label,

When once decanted:—I presume to guess so,But will not swear: yet both, upon occasion,

Till old, may undergo adulteration.

vn.

But Adeline was of the purest vintage,

The unmingled essence of the grape; and yetBright as a new Napoleon from its mintage;

Or glorious as a diamond richly set:

A page whore Time should hesitate to print age,And for which Nature might forego her debt—Sold creditor whose process doth involve iu'tThe luck of finding everybody solvent.

vra.

0 death! thou dunnest of all duns! thou dailyKnockest at doors, at first with modest tap,

Like a meek tradesman when, approaching*paleljiSome splendid debtor he would take by sap:

But oft denied, as patience ’gins to fail, heAdvances with exasperated rap,

And (if let in) insists, in terms unhandsome^

On ready money, or “ a draft on Ransom.”