The Works of Lord Byron Volume VI Part 61

LIII.

But she was a soft landscape of mild earth, Where all was harmony, and calm, and quiet, Luxuriant, budding; cheerful without mirth, Which, if not happiness, is much more nigh it Than are your mighty pa.s.sions and so forth, Which, some call "the Sublime:" I wish they'd try it: I've seen your stormy seas and stormy women, And pity lovers rather more than seamen.

LIV.

But she was pensive more than melancholy, And serious more than pensive, and serene, It may be, more than either--not unholy Her thoughts, at least till now, appear to have been.

The strangest thing was, beauteous, she was wholly Unconscious, albeit turned of quick seventeen, That she was fair, or dark, or short, or tall; She never thought about herself at all.

LV.

And therefore was she kind and gentle as The Age of Gold (when gold was yet unknown, By which its nomenclature came to pa.s.s;[gv]

Thus most appropriately has been shown "Lucus a _non_ lucendo," _not_ what _was_, But what _was not_; a sort of style that's grown Extremely common in this age, whose metal The Devil may decompose, but never settle:[gw]

LVI.

I think it may be of "Corinthian Bra.s.s,"[351]

Which was a mixture of all metals, but The brazen uppermost). Kind reader! pa.s.s This long parenthesis: I could not shut It sooner for the soul of me, and cla.s.s My faults even with your own! which meaneth, Put A kind construction upon them and me: But _that_ you won't--then don't--I am not less free.

LVII.

'T is time we should return to plain narration, And thus my narrative proceeds:--Dudu, With every kindness short of ostentation, Showed Juan, or Juanna, through and through This labyrinth of females, and each station Described--what's strange--in words extremely few: I have but one simile, and that's a blunder, For wordless woman, which is _silent_ thunder.[gx]

LVIII.

And next she gave her (I say _her_, because The gender still was epicene, at least In outward show, which is a saving clause) An outline of the customs of the East, With all their chaste integrity of laws, By which the more a Harem is increased, The stricter doubtless grow the vestal duties Of any supernumerary beauties.

LIX.

And then she gave Juanna a chaste kiss: Dudu was fond of kissing--which I'm sure That n.o.body can ever take amiss, Because 't is pleasant, so that it be pure, And between females means no more than this-- That they have nothing better near, or newer.

"Kiss" rhymes to "bliss" in fact as well as verse-- I wish it never led to something worse.

LX.

In perfect innocence she then unmade Her toilet, which cost little, for she was A child of Nature, carelessly arrayed: If fond of a chance ogle at her gla.s.s, 'T was like the fawn, which, in the lake displayed, Beholds her own shy, shadowy image pa.s.s, When first she starts, and then returns to peep, Admiring this new native of the deep.

LXI.

And one by one her articles of dress Were laid aside; but not before she offered Her aid to fair Juanna, whose excess Of modesty declined the a.s.sistance proffered: Which pa.s.sed well off--as she could do no less; Though by this _politesse_ she rather suffered, p.r.i.c.king her fingers with those cursed pins, Which surely were invented for our sins,--

LXII.

Making a woman like a porcupine, Not to be rashly touched. But still more dread, Oh ye! whose fate it is, as once 't was mine, In early youth, to turn a lady's maid;-- I did my very boyish best to s.h.i.+ne In tricking her out for a masquerade: The pins were placed sufficiently, but not Stuck all exactly in the proper spot.

LXIII.

But these are foolish things to all the wise, And I love Wisdom more than she loves me; My tendency is to philosophise On most things, from a tyrant to a tree; But still the spouseless virgin _Knowledge_ flies.

What are we? and whence came we? what shall be Our _ultimate_ existence? what's our present?

Are questions answerless, and yet incessant.

LXIV.

There was deep silence in the chamber: dim And distant from each other burned the lights, And slumber hovered o'er each lovely limb Of the fair occupants: if there be sprites, They should have walked there in their sprightliest trim, By way of change from their sepulchral sites, And shown themselves as ghosts of better taste Than haunting some old ruin or wild waste.

LXV.

Many and beautiful lay those around, Like flowers of different hue, and clime, and root, In some exotic garden sometimes found, With cost, and care, and warmth induced to shoot.

One with her auburn tresses lightly bound, And fair brows gently drooping, as the fruit Nods from the tree, was slumbering with soft breath, And lips apart, which showed the pearls beneath.

LXVI.

One with her flushed cheek laid on her white arm, And raven ringlets gathered in dark crowd Above her brow, lay dreaming soft and warm; And smiling through her dream, as through a cloud The moon breaks, half unveiled each further charm, As, slightly stirring in her snowy shroud, Her beauties seized the unconscious hour of night All bashfully to struggle into light.

LXVII.

This is no bull, although it sounds so; for 'T was night, but there were lamps, as hath been said.

A third's all pallid aspect offered more The traits of sleeping sorrow, and betrayed Through the heaved breast the dream of some far sh.o.r.e Beloved and deplored; while slowly strayed (As night-dew, on a cypress glittering, tinges The black bough) tear-drops through her eyes' dark fringes.

LXVIII.

A fourth as marble, statue-like and still, Lay in a breathless, hushed, and stony sleep; White, cold, and pure, as looks a frozen rill, Or the snow minaret on an Alpine steep, Or Lot's wife done in salt,--or what you will;-- My similes are gathered in a heap, So pick and choose--perhaps you'll be content With a carved lady on a monument.

LXIX.

And lo! a fifth appears;--and what is she?

A lady of a "certain age,"[352] which means Certainly aged--what her years might be I know not, never counting past their teens; But there she slept, not quite so fair to see, As ere that awful period intervenes Which lays both men and women on the shelf, To meditate upon their sins and self.

LXX.

But all this time how slept, or dreamed, Dudu?

With strict inquiry I could ne'er discover, And scorn to add a syllable untrue; But ere the middle watch was hardly over, Just when the fading lamps waned dim and blue, And phantoms hovered, or might seem to hover, To those who like their company, about The apartment, on a sudden she screamed out:

LXXI.

And that so loudly, that upstarted all The Oda, in a general commotion: Matron and maids, and those whom you may call Neither, came crowding like the waves of Ocean, One on the other, throughout the whole hall, All trembling, wondering, without the least notion More than I have myself of what could make The calm Dudu so turbulently wake.

LXXII.

But wide awake she was, and round her bed.

With floating draperies and with flying hair, With eager eyes, and light but hurried tread, And bosoms, arms, and ankles glancing bare, And bright as any meteor ever bred By the North Pole,--they sought her cause of care, For she seemed agitated, flushed, and frightened, Her eye dilated, and her colour heightened.

LXXIII.

But what is strange--and a strong proof how great A blessing is sound sleep--Juanna lay As fast as ever husband by his mate In holy matrimony snores away.

Not all the clamour broke her happy state Of slumber, ere they shook her,--so they say At least,--and then she, too, unclosed her eyes, And yawned a good deal with discreet surprise.[gy]

LXXIV.

And now commenced a strict investigation, Which, as all spoke at once, and more than once Conjecturing, wondering, asking a narration, Alike might puzzle either wit or dunce To answer in a very clear oration.

Dudu had never pa.s.sed for wanting sense, But being "no orator as Brutus is,"[353]