443

DON JUAN.

LX.

I Say, in my slight way I may proceedTo play upon the surface of humanity.

I Write the world, nor care if the world read;

At least for this I cannot spare its vanity.

My Muse hath bred, and still perhaps may breed,More foes by this same scroll: when I began„ it, I

Thought that it might turn out so— now I know it;But still X am, or was, a pretty poet.

LXI.

The conference or congress (for It endedAs congresses, of late, do) of the LadyAdeline and Don Juan rather blendedSome acids with the sweets—for she was heady,But, ere the matter could he marr'd or mended.

The silvery bell rang, not for *• dinner ready,’*

But for that hour, call’d half-hour , given to dress,Though ladies’ robes seem scant enough for less.

LXIJ.

Great things were now to bo achiev’d at table,

With massy plate for armour, knives and forksFor weapons; but what muse, since Homer ’s, able(His feasts are not the worst part of his works)To draw up in array a single day-billGf modern dinners, where more mystery lurks,

Th soups, or sauces, or a sole ragout,

Than witches, b—ches, or physicians, brew ?

LXIII.

There was a goodly “ soup? h la bonne femme.”Though God knows whehce it came from : therewas, too,

A turbot, for relief of those Who cram,

Reliev’d with “ dindon h la Perigeux:

There also was-the sinner that I am!

How shall I get this gourmand stanza„ through ?—

Soupe h la Beauveau,” whose relief was dory,Reliev’d itself by pork, for greater glory.

LXIV.

But I must crowd all into one grand mess,t. Or mass, for. should I stretch into detail.

My Muse would run much more into excess,

Than when some squeamish people deem herft frail;

Rut, though a “ bonne vivante,” I must confess-Her stomach’s not her peccant part • this taleHowever doth require some slight refection,

J ust m relieve her spirits from dejection.

Fowls “ a la Cond6,” slices, eke, of salmon,

With “sauces GenfSvoises,'' and haunch of veni*vy. son;

n 1Q es, too, which might again have slain youngAmmon—

A man, like whom, I hope we sha’n’t see manysoon;

They also set a glaz'd Westphalian ham on,Whereon Apicus would, bestow his benison;

And then there was champagne, with foamingwhirls,

As white as Cleopatra s melted pearts,lxvi.

Then there was God knows what “ a 1‘Allo-mande, 1 '

“ A l’Espagnole,” “ timballe,” and “ salpicon”—With things I can’t withstand or understand,Though swallow’d with much zest, upon thewhole;

And “ entremets" to piddle with, at hand,

Gently to lull down the subsiding soul;

While great Lucullus ** robe triumphale muffles—{There's fame )—young partridge fillets, deck'd withtruffles.

LXVU.

What are th e fillets on the “victor’s brow,

To these ? They are rags or dust. Where is thearch

Which nodded to the nation’s spoils below ?

Where the triumphal chariot’s haughty march ?Gone to where victories must, like dinners, go.

Farther X shall not follow the research;

But, 0, ye modern heroes, with your cartridges,When will your names lend lustre e’en to part-ridges ?

lxviii.

Those truffles, too, are no bad accessaries.

Follow'd by “petits puits damour”t—a dishOf which perhaps the cookery rather varies;

So every one may dress it to his wish,

According to the best of dictionaries,

Which encyclopedize both flesh and fish;

But, even sans “ confitures," it no less true is.There’s pretty picking in those “petits puits.”

LXIX.

The mind is lost in mighty contemplationOf intellect, expanded on two courses;

And indigestion’s grand multiplicationRequires arithmetic beyond my forces:

Who would suppose, from Adam’s simple ration.That cookery could nave call'd forth such re-sources,

As form a science and a nomenclature.

From out the commonest demands of nature ?

LXX.

The glasses jingled, and the palates tingled ;

The diners of celebrity dined well;

Tbe ladies with more moderation mingledIn the feast, pecking less than I can tell;Also the younger men, too: for a springaldCan’t, like ripe age, in gourmandize excel:But thinks less of good eating than the whisper(When seated next him) of some pretty lisper.

.< A dish “h la Lucullus .” This hero, who conquered the East, has left his more extended celebrity to_ e transplantation of cherries (which he first brought into Europe ), and the nomenclature of some veryHir , R es; —and I am not sure that (barring indigestion) he has not done more service to mankind byCn ® 00 * er y than by his conquests. A cherry-tree may weigh against a bloody laurel: besides, he has+ ^n 1 celebrity from both.

a puitB d’amour garnis des confitures,” a classical and well-known dish for part of the flank of

R second course.