The Works of Lord Byron Volume IV Part 30

That picture (howsoever fine the rest) Is loveliest to my mind of all the show; It may perhaps be also to _your_ zest, And that's the cause I rhyme upon it so: Tis but a portrait of his Son, and Wife, And self; but _such_ a Woman! Love in life![201]

XIII.

Love in full life and length, not love ideal, No, nor ideal beauty, that fine name, But something better still, so very real, That the sweet Model must have been the same; A thing that you would purchase, beg, or steal, Wer't not impossible, besides a shame: The face recalls some face, as 'twere with pain, You once have seen, but ne'er will see again;

XIV.

One of those forms which flit by us, when we Are young, and fix our eyes on every face; And, oh! the Loveliness at times we see In momentary gliding, the soft grace, The Youth, the Bloom, the Beauty which agree, In many a nameless being we retrace, Whose course and home we knew not, nor shall know, Like the lost Pleiad[202] seen no more below.

XV.

I said that like a picture by Giorgione Venetian women were, and so they _are_, Particularly seen from a balcony, (For beauty's sometimes best set off afar) And there, just like a heroine of Goldoni,[202A]

They peep from out the blind, or o'er the bar; And truth to say, they're mostly very pretty, And rather like to show it, more's the pity!

XVI.

For glances beget ogles, ogles sighs, Sighs wishes, wishes words, and words a letter, Which flies on wings of light-heeled Mercuries, Who do such things because they know no better; And then, G.o.d knows what mischief may arise, When Love links two young people in one fetter, Vile a.s.signations, and adulterous beds, Elopements, broken vows, and hearts, and heads.

XVII.

Shakspeare described the s.e.x in Desdemona As very fair, but yet suspect in fame,[202B]

And to this day from Venice to Verona Such matters may be probably the same, Except that since those times was never known a Husband whom mere suspicion could inflame To suffocate a wife no more than twenty, Because she had a "Cavalier Servente."[203]

XVIII.

Their jealousy (if they are ever jealous) Is of a fair complexion altogether, Not like that sooty devil of Oth.e.l.lo's, Which smothers women in a bed of feather, But worthier of these much more jolly fellows, When weary of the matrimonial tether His head for such a wife no mortal bothers, But takes at once another, or _another's_.

XIX.

Didst ever see a Gondola? For fear You should not, I'll describe it you exactly: 'Tis a long covered boat that's common here, Carved at the prow, built lightly, but compactly, Rowed by two rowers, each call'd "Gondolier,"

It glides along the water looking blackly, Just like a coffin clapt in a canoe, Where none can make out what you say or do.

XX.

And up and down the long ca.n.a.ls they go, And under the Rialto[204] shoot along, By night and day, all paces, swift or slow, And round the theatres, a sable throng, They wait in their dusk livery of woe,-- But not to them do woeful things belong, For sometimes they contain a deal of fun, Like mourning coaches when the funeral's done.

XXI.

But to my story.--'Twas some years ago, It may be thirty, forty, more or less, The Carnival was at its height, and so Were all kinds of buffoonery and dress; A certain lady went to see the show, Her real name I know not, nor can guess, And so we'll call her Laura, if you please, Because it slips into my verse with ease.

XXII.

She was not old, nor young, nor at the years Which certain people call a "_certain age_,"[205]

Which yet the most uncertain age appears, Because I never heard, nor could engage A person yet by prayers, or bribes, or tears, To name, define by speech, or write on page, The period meant precisely by that word,-- Which surely is exceedingly absurd.

XXIII.

Laura was blooming still, had made the best Of Time, and Time returned the compliment, And treated her genteelly, so that, dressed, She looked extremely well where'er she went; A pretty woman is a welcome guest, And Laura's brow a frown had rarely bent; Indeed, she shone all smiles, and seemed to flatter Mankind with her black eyes for looking at her.

XXIV.

She was a married woman; 'tis convenient, Because in Christian countries 'tis a rule To view their little slips with eyes more lenient; Whereas if single ladies play the fool, (Unless within the period intervenient A well-timed wedding makes the scandal cool) I don't know how they ever can get over it, Except they manage never to discover it.

XXV.

Her husband sailed upon the Adriatic, And made some voyages, too, in other seas, And when he lay in Quarantine for pratique[206]

(A forty days' precaution 'gainst disease), His wife would mount, at times, her highest attic, For thence she could discern the s.h.i.+p with ease: He was a merchant trading to Aleppo, His name Giuseppe, called more briefly, Beppo.[207]

XXVI.

He was a man as dusky as a Spaniard, Sunburnt with travel, yet a portly figure; Though coloured, as it were, within a tanyard, He was a person both of sense and vigour-- A better seaman never yet did man yard; And she, although her manners showed no rigour, Was deemed a woman of the strictest principle, So much as to be thought almost invincible.[208]

XXVII.

But several years elapsed since they had met; Some people thought the s.h.i.+p was lost, and some That he had somehow blundered into debt, And did not like the thought of steering home; And there were several offered any bet, Or that he would, or that he would not come; For most men (till by losing rendered sager) Will back their own opinions with a wager.

XXVIII.

'Tis said that their last parting was pathetic, As partings often are, or ought to be, And their presentiment was quite prophetic, That they should never more each other see, (A sort of morbid feeling, half poetic, Which I have known occur in two or three,) When kneeling on the sh.o.r.e upon her sad knee He left this Adriatic Ariadne.

XXIX.

And Laura waited long, and wept a little, And thought of wearing weeds, as well she might; She almost lost all appet.i.te for victual, And could not sleep with ease alone at night; She deemed the window-frames and shutters brittle Against a daring housebreaker or sprite, And so she thought it prudent to connect her With a vice-husband, _chiefly_ to _protect her_.

x.x.x.

She chose, (and what is there they will not choose, If only you will but oppose their choice?) Till Beppo should return from his long cruise, And bid once more her faithful heart rejoice, A man some women like, and yet abuse-- A c.o.xcomb was he by the public voice; A Count of wealth, they said as well as quality, And in his pleasures of great liberality.[bk]

x.x.xI.

And then he was a Count, and then he knew Music, and dancing, fiddling, French and Tuscan; The last not easy, be it known to you, For few Italians speak the right Etruscan.

He was a critic upon operas, too, And knew all niceties of sock and buskin; And no Venetian audience could endure a Song, scene, or air, when he cried "seccatura!"[209]

x.x.xII.

His "bravo" was decisive, for that sound Hushed "Academie" sighed in silent awe; The fiddlers trembled as he looked around, For fear of some false note's detected flaw; The "Prima Donna's" tuneful heart would bound, Dreading the deep d.a.m.nation of his "Bah!"

Soprano, Ba.s.so, even the Contra-Alto, Wished him five fathom under the Rialto.

x.x.xIII.

He patronised the Improvisatori, Nay, could himself extemporise some stanzas, Wrote rhymes, sang songs, could also tell a story, Sold pictures, and was skilful in the dance as Italians can be, though in this their glory Must surely yield the palm to that which France has; In short, he was a perfect Cavaliero, And to his very valet seemed a hero.[210]

x.x.xIV.

Then he was faithful too, as well as amorous; So that no sort of female could complain, Although they're now and then a little clamorous, He never put the pretty souls in pain; His heart was one of those which most enamour us, Wax to receive, and marble to retain: He was a lover of the good old school, Who still become more constant as they cool.

x.x.xV.

No wonder such accomplishments should turn A female head, however sage and steady-- With scarce a hope that Beppo could return, In law he was almost as good as dead, he Nor sent, nor wrote, nor showed the least concern, And she had waited several years already: And really if a man won't let us know That he's alive, he's _dead_--or should be so.