Don Juan Part 4

It was for this that I became a bride!

For this in silence I have suffer'd long A husband like Alfonso at my side; But now I 'll bear no more, nor here remain, If there be law or lawyers in all Spain.

'Yes, Don Alfonso! husband now no more, If ever you indeed deserved the name, Is 't worthy of your years?--you have threescore-- Fifty, or sixty, it is all the same-- Is 't wise or fitting, causeless to explore For facts against a virtuous woman's fame?

Ungrateful, perjured, barbarous Don Alfonso, How dare you think your lady would go on so?

'Is it for this I have disdain'd to hold The common privileges of my s.e.x?

That I have chosen a confessor so old And deaf, that any other it would vex, And never once he has had cause to scold, But found my very innocence perplex So much, he always doubted I was married-- How sorry you will be when I 've miscarried!

'Was it for this that no Cortejo e'er I yet have chosen from out the youth of Seville?

Is it for this I scarce went anywhere, Except to bull-fights, ma.s.s, play, rout, and revel?

Is it for this, whate'er my suitors were, I favor'd none--nay, was almost uncivil?

Is it for this that General Count O'Reilly, Who took Algiers, declares I used him vilely?

'Did not the Italian Musico Cazzani Sing at my heart six months at least in vain?

Did not his countryman, Count Corniani, Call me the only virtuous wife in Spain?

Were there not also Russians, English, many?

The Count Strongstroganoff I put in pain, And Lord Mount Coffeehouse, the Irish peer, Who kill'd himself for love (with wine) last year.

'Have I not had two bishops at my feet, The Duke of Ichar, and Don Fernan Nunez?

And is it thus a faithful wife you treat?

I wonder in what quarter now the moon is: I praise your vast forbearance not to beat Me also, since the time so opportune is-- O, valiant man! with sword drawn and c.o.c.k'd trigger, Now, tell me, don't you cut a pretty figure?

'Was it for this you took your sudden journey.

Under pretence of business indispensable With that sublime of rascals your attorney, Whom I see standing there, and looking sensible Of having play'd the fool? though both I spurn, he Deserves the worst, his conduct 's less defensible, Because, no doubt, 't was for his dirty fee, And not from any love to you nor me.

'If he comes here to take a deposition, By all means let the gentleman proceed; You 've made the apartment in a fit condition: There 's pen and ink for you, sir, when you need-- Let every thing be noted with precision, I would not you for nothing should be fee'd-- But, as my maid 's undrest, pray turn your spies out.'

'Oh!' sobb'd Antonia, 'I could tear their eyes out.'

'There is the closet, there the toilet, there The antechamber--search them under, over; There is the sofa, there the great arm-chair, The chimney--which would really hold a lover.

I wish to sleep, and beg you will take care And make no further noise, till you discover The secret cavern of this lurking treasure-- And when 't is found, let me, too, have that pleasure.

'And now, Hidalgo! now that you have thrown Doubt upon me, confusion over all, Pray have the courtesy to make it known Who is the man you search for? how d' ye cal Him? what 's his lineage? let him but be shown-- I hope he 's young and handsome--is he tall?

Tell me--and be a.s.sured, that since you stain My honour thus, it shall not be in vain.

'At least, perhaps, he has not sixty years, At that age he would be too old for slaughter, Or for so young a husband's jealous fears (Antonia! let me have a gla.s.s of water).

I am ashamed of having shed these tears, They are unworthy of my father's daughter; My mother dream'd not in my natal hour That I should fall into a monster's power.

'Perhaps 't is of Antonia you are jealous, You saw that she was sleeping by my side When you broke in upon us with your fellows: Look where you please--we 've nothing, sir, to hide; Only another time, I trust, you 'll tell us, Or for the sake of decency abide A moment at the door, that we may be Drest to receive so much good company.

'And now, sir, I have done, and say no more; The little I have said may serve to show The guileless heart in silence may grieve o'er The wrongs to whose exposure it is slow: I leave you to your conscience as before, 'T will one day ask you why you used me so?

G.o.d grant you feel not then the bitterest grief!- Antonia! where 's my pocket-handkerchief?'

She ceased, and turn'd upon her pillow; pale She lay, her dark eyes flashing through their tears, Like skies that rain and lighten; as a veil, Waved and o'ershading her wan cheek, appears Her streaming hair; the black curls strive, but fail, To hide the glossy shoulder, which uprears Its snow through all;--her soft lips lie apart, And louder than her breathing beats her heart.

The Senhor Don Alfonso stood confused; Antonia bustled round the ransack'd room, And, turning up her nose, with looks abused Her master and his myrmidons, of whom Not one, except the attorney, was amused; He, like Achates, faithful to the tomb, So there were quarrels, cared not for the cause, Knowing they must be settled by the laws.

With prying snub-nose, and small eyes, he stood, Following Antonia's motions here and there, With much suspicion in his att.i.tude; For reputations he had little care; So that a suit or action were made good, Small pity had he for the young and fair, And ne'er believed in negatives, till these Were proved by competent false witnesses.

But Don Alfonso stood with downcast looks, And, truth to say, he made a foolish figure; When, after searching in five hundred nooks, And treating a young wife with so much rigour, He gain'd no point, except some self-rebukes, Added to those his lady with such vigour Had pour'd upon him for the last half-hour, Quick, thick, and heavy--as a thunder-shower.

At first he tried to hammer an excuse, To which the sole reply was tears and sobs, And indications of hysterics, whose Prologue is always certain throes, and throbs, Gasps, and whatever else the owners choose: Alfonso saw his wife, and thought of Job's; He saw too, in perspective, her relations, And then he tried to muster all his patience.

He stood in act to speak, or rather stammer, But sage Antonia cut him short before The anvil of his speech received the hammer, With 'Pray, sir, leave the room, and say no more, Or madam dies.'--Alfonso mutter'd, 'D--n her,'

But nothing else, the time of words was o'er; He cast a rueful look or two, and did, He knew not wherefore, that which he was bid.

With him retired his 'posse comitatus,'

The attorney last, who linger'd near the door Reluctantly, still tarrying there as late as Antonia let him--not a little sore At this most strange and unexplain'd 'hiatus'

In Don Alfonso's facts, which just now wore An awkward look; as he revolved the case, The door was fasten'd in his legal face.

No sooner was it bolted, than--Oh shame!

O sin! Oh sorrow! and oh womankind!

How can you do such things and keep your fame, Unless this world, and t' other too, be blind?

Nothing so dear as an unfilch'd good name!

But to proceed--for there is more behind: With much heartfelt reluctance be it said, Young Juan slipp'd half-smother'd, from the bed.

He had been hid--I don't pretend to say How, nor can I indeed describe the where-- Young, slender, and pack'd easily, he lay, No doubt, in little compa.s.s, round or square; But pity him I neither must nor may His suffocation by that pretty pair; 'T were better, sure, to die so, than be shut With maudlin Clarence in his Malmsey b.u.t.t.

And, secondly, I pity not, because He had no business to commit a sin, Forbid by heavenly, fined by human laws, At least 't was rather early to begin; But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So much as when we call our old debts in At sixty years, and draw the accompts of evil, And find a deuced balance with the devil.

Of his position I can give no notion: 'T is written in the Hebrew Chronicle, How the physicians, leaving pill and potion, Prescribed, by way of blister, a young belle, When old King David's blood grew dull in motion, And that the medicine answer'd very well; Perhaps 't was in a different way applied, For David lived, but Juan nearly died.

What 's to be done? Alfonso will be back The moment he has sent his fools away.

Antonia's skill was put upon the rack, But no device could be brought into play-- And how to parry the renew'd attack?

Besides, it wanted but few hours of day: Antonia puzzled; Julia did not speak, But press'd her bloodless lip to Juan's cheek.

He turn'd his lip to hers, and with his hand Call'd back the tangles of her wandering hair; Even then their love they could not all command, And half forgot their danger and despair: Antonia's patience now was at a stand-- 'Come, come, 't is no time now for fooling there,'

She whisper'd, in great wrath--'I must deposit This pretty gentleman within the closet:

'Pray, keep your nonsense for some luckier night-- Who can have put my master in this mood?

What will become on 't--I 'm in such a fright, The devil 's in the urchin, and no good-- Is this a time for giggling? this a plight?

Why, don't you know that it may end in blood?

You 'll lose your life, and I shall lose my place, My mistress all, for that half-girlish face.

'Had it but been for a stout cavalier Of twenty-five or thirty (come, make haste)-- But for a child, what piece of work is here!

I really, madam, wonder at your taste (Come, sir, get in)--my master must be near: There, for the present, at the least, he's fast, And if we can but till the morning keep Our counsel--(Juan, mind, you must not sleep).'

Now, Don Alfonso entering, but alone, Closed the oration of the trusty maid: She loiter'd, and he told her to be gone, An order somewhat sullenly obey'd; However, present remedy was none, And no great good seem'd answer'd if she stay'd: Regarding both with slow and sidelong view, She snuff'd the candle, curtsied, and withdrew.

Alfonso paused a minute--then begun Some strange excuses for his late proceeding; He would not justify what he had done, To say the best, it was extreme ill-breeding; But there were ample reasons for it, none Of which he specified in this his pleading: His speech was a fine sample, on the whole, Of rhetoric, which the learn'd call 'rigmarole.'

Julia said nought; though all the while there rose A ready answer, which at once enables A matron, who her husband's foible knows, By a few timely words to turn the tables, Which, if it does not silence, still must pose,-- Even if it should comprise a pack of fables; 'T is to retort with firmness, and when he Suspects with one, do you reproach with three.

Julia, in fact, had tolerable grounds,-- Alfonso's loves with Inez were well known, But whether 't was that one's own guilt confounds-- But that can't be, as has been often shown, A lady with apologies abounds;-- It might be that her silence sprang alone From delicacy to Don Juan's ear, To whom she knew his mother's fame was dear.

There might be one more motive, which makes two; Alfonso ne'er to Juan had alluded,-- Mention'd his jealousy but never who Had been the happy lover, he concluded, Conceal'd amongst his premises; 't is true, His mind the more o'er this its mystery brooded; To speak of Inez now were, one may say, Like throwing Juan in Alfonso's way.

A hint, in tender cases, is enough; Silence is best, besides there is a tact (That modern phrase appears to me sad stuff, But it will serve to keep my verse compact)- Which keeps, when push'd by questions rather rough, A lady always distant from the fact: The charming creatures lie with such a grace, There 's nothing so becoming to the face.

They blush, and we believe them; at least I Have always done so; 't is of no great use, In any case, attempting a reply, For then their eloquence grows quite profuse; And when at length they 're out of breath, they sigh, And cast their languid eyes down, and let loose A tear or two, and then we make it up; And then--and then--and then--sit down and sup.