The Works of Lord Byron Volume VI Part 25

CLXIV.

'T is pleasing to be schooled in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been;[156]

They smile so when one's right, and when one's wrong They smile still more, and then there intervene Pressure of hands, perhaps even a chaste kiss;--[br]

I learned the little that I know by this:

CLXV.

That is, some words of Spanish, Turk, and Greek, Italian not at all, having no teachers;[bs]

Much English I cannot pretend to speak, Learning that language chiefly from its preachers, Barrow, South, Tillotson, whom every week I study, also Blair--the highest reachers Of eloquence in piety and prose-- I hate your poets, so read none of those.

CLXVI.

As for the ladies, I have nought to say, A wanderer from the British world of Fas.h.i.+on,[157]

Where I, like other "dogs, have had my day,"

Like other men, too, may have had my pa.s.sion-- But that, like other things, has pa.s.sed away, And all her fools whom I _could_ lay the lash on: Foes, friends, men, women, now are nought to me But dreams of what has been, no more to be.[bt]

CLXVII.

Return we to Don Juan. He begun[158]

To hear new words, and to repeat them; but Some feelings, universal as the Sun, Were such as could not in his breast be shut More than within the bosom of a nun: He was in love,--as you would be, no doubt, With a young benefactress,--so was she, Just in the way we very often see.

CLXVIII.

And every day by daybreak--rather early For Juan, who was somewhat fond of rest-- She came into the cave, but it was merely To see her bird reposing in his nest;[159]

And she would softly stir his locks so curly, Without disturbing her yet slumbering guest, Breathing all gently o'er his cheek and mouth,[bu]

As o'er a bed of roses the sweet South.

CLXIX.

And every morn his colour freshlier came, And every day helped on his convalescence; 'T was well, because health in the human frame Is pleasant, besides being true Love's essence, For health and idleness to Pa.s.sion's flame Are oil and gunpowder; and some good lessons Are also learnt from Ceres and from Bacchus, Without whom Venus will not long attack us.[160]

CLXX.

While Venus fills the heart, (without heart really Love, though good always, is not quite so good,) Ceres presents a plate of vermicelli,-- For Love must be sustained like flesh and blood,--While Bacchus pours out wine, or hands a jelly: Eggs, oysters, too, are amatory food;[bv]

But who is their purveyor from above Heaven knows,--it may be Neptune, Pan, or Jove.

CLXXI.

When Juan woke he found some good things ready, A bath, a breakfast, and the finest eyes That ever made a youthful heart less steady, Besides her maid's, as pretty for their size; But I have spoken of all this already-- A repet.i.tion's tiresome and unwise,-- Well--Juan, after bathing in the sea, Came always back to coffee and Haidee.

CLXXII.

Both were so young, and one so innocent, That bathing pa.s.sed for nothing; Juan seemed To her, as 't were, the kind of being sent, Of whom these two years she had nightly dreamed, A something to be loved, a creature meant To be her happiness, and whom she deemed To render happy; all who joy would win Must share it,--Happiness was born a Twin.

CLXXIII.

It was such pleasure to behold him, such Enlargement of existence to partake Nature with him, to thrill beneath his touch, To watch him slumbering, and to see him wake: To live with him for ever were too much; But then the thought of parting made her quake; He was her own, her ocean-treasure, cast Like a rich wreck--her first love, and her last.[bw]

CLXXIV.

And thus a moon rolled on, and fair Haidee Paid daily visits to her boy, and took Such plentiful precautions, that still he Remained unknown within his craggy nook; At last her father's prows put out to sea, For certain merchantmen upon the look, Not as of yore to carry off an Io, But three Ragusan vessels, bound for Scio.

CLXXV.

Then came her freedom, for she had no mother, So that, her father being at sea, she was Free as a married woman, or such other Female, as where she likes may freely pa.s.s, Without even the enc.u.mbrance of a brother, The freest she that ever gazed on gla.s.s: I speak of Christian lands in this comparison, Where wives, at least, are seldom kept in garrison.

CLXXVI.

Now she prolonged her visits and her talk (For they must talk), and he had learnt to say So much as to propose to take a walk,-- For little had he wandered since the day On which, like a young flower snapped from the stalk, Drooping and dewy on the beach he lay,-- And thus they walked out in the afternoon, And saw the sun set opposite the moon.[bx]

CLXXVII.

It was a wild and breaker-beaten coast, With cliffs above, and a broad sandy sh.o.r.e, Guarded by shoals and rocks as by an host, With here and there a creek, whose aspect wore A better welcome to the tempest-tost; And rarely ceased the haughty billow's roar, Save on the dead long summer days, which make The outstretched Ocean glitter like a lake.

CLXXVIII.

And the small ripple spilt upon the beach Scarcely o'erpa.s.sed the cream of your champagne, When o'er the brim the sparkling b.u.mpers reach, That spring-dew of the spirit! the heart's rain!

Few things surpa.s.s old wine; and they may preach Who please,--the more because they preach in vain,-- Let us have Wine and Woman,[161] Mirth and Laughter, Sermons and soda-water the day after.

CLXXIX.

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; The best of Life is but intoxication: Glory, the Grape, Love, Gold, in these are sunk The hopes of all men, and of every nation; Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk Of Life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion!

But to return,--Get very drunk, and when You wake with headache--you shall see what then!

CLx.x.x.

Ring for your valet--bid him quickly bring Some hock and soda-water,[162] then you'll know A pleasure worthy Xerxes the great king; For not the blest sherbet, sublimed with snow,[163]

Nor the first sparkle of the desert-spring, Nor Burgundy in all its sunset glow,[by]

After long travel, Ennui, Love, or Slaughter, Vie with that draught of hock and soda-water!

CLx.x.xI.

The coast--I think it was the coast that I Was just describing--Yes, it _was_ the coast-- Lay at this period quiet as the sky, The sands untumbled, the blue waves untossed, And all was stillness, save the sea-bird's cry, And dolphin's leap, and little billow crossed By some low rock or shelve, that made it fret Against the boundary it scarcely wet.

CLx.x.xII.

And forth they wandered, her sire being gone, As I have said, upon an expedition; And mother, brother, guardian, she had none, Save Zoe, who, although with due precision She waited on her lady with the Sun, Thought daily service was her only mission, Bringing warm water, wreathing her long tresses, And asking now and then for cast-off dresses.

CLx.x.xIII.

It was the cooling hour, just when the rounded Red sun sinks down behind the azure hill, Which then seems as if the whole earth it bounded, Circling all Nature, hushed, and dim, and still, With the far mountain-crescent half surrounded On one side, and the deep sea calm and chill Upon the other, and the rosy sky With one star sparkling through it like an eye.

CLx.x.xIV.

And thus they wandered forth, and hand in hand, Over the s.h.i.+ning pebbles and the sh.e.l.ls, Glided along the smooth and hardened sand, And in the worn and wild receptacles Worked by the storms, yet worked as it were planned In hollow halls, with sparry roofs and cells, They turned to rest; and, each clasped by an arm, Yielded to the deep Twilight's purple charm.

CLx.x.xV.

They looked up to the sky, whose floating glow Spread like a rosy Ocean, vast and bright;[bz]