The Works of Lord Byron Volume VI Part 89

Or the ear-trumpet of my good old aunt,[541]

Who, though her spectacles at last grew dim, Drew quiet consolation through its hint, When she no more could read the pious print.

x.x.xV.

She was no Hypocrite at least, poor soul, But went to heaven in as sincere a way As anybody on the elected roll, Which portions out upon the Judgment Day Heaven's freeholds, in a sort of Doomsday scroll, Such as the conqueror William did repay His knights with, lotting others' properties Into some sixty thousand new knights' fees.

x.x.xVI.

I can't complain, whose ancestors are there, Erneis, Radulphus--eight-and-forty manors (If that my memory doth not greatly err) Were _their_ reward for following Billy's banners:[542]

And though I can't help thinking 't was scarce fair To strip the Saxons of their _hydes_[543] like tanners; Yet as they founded churches with the produce, You'll deem, no doubt, they put it to a good use.[kc]

x.x.xVII.

The gentle Juan flourished, though at times He felt like other plants called sensitive, Which shrink from touch, as Monarchs do from rhymes, Save such as Southey can afford to give.

Perhaps he longed in bitter frosts for climes In which the Neva's ice would cease to live Before May-day: perhaps, despite his duty, In Royalty's vast arms he sighed for Beauty:

x.x.xVIII.

Perhaps--but, sans perhaps, we need not seek[kd]

For causes young or old: the canker-worm Will feed upon the fairest, freshest cheek, As well as further drain the withered form: Care, like a housekeeper, brings every week His bills in, and however we may storm, They must be paid: though six days smoothly run, The seventh will bring blue devils or a dun.

x.x.xIX.

I don't know how it was, but he grew sick: The Empress was alarmed, and her physician (The same who physicked Peter) found the tick Of his fierce pulse betoken a condition Which augured of the dead, however _quick_ Itself, and showed a feverish disposition; At which the whole Court was extremely troubled, The Sovereign shocked, and all his medicines doubled.

XL.

Low were the whispers, manifold the rumours: Some said he had been poisoned by Potemkin; Others talked learnedly of certain tumours, Exhaustion, or disorders of the same kin;[544]

Some said 't was a concoction of the humours, Which with the blood too readily will claim kin: Others again were ready to maintain, "'T was only the fatigue of last campaign."

XLI.

But here is one prescription out of many: "_Sodae sulphat_. ?vj. ?fs. _Mannae optim._ _Aq. fervent._ f. ? ifs. ?ij. _tinct. Sennae_ _Haustus_" (And here the surgeon came and cupped him) "? _Pulv. Com._ gr. iij. _Ipecacuanhae_"

(With more beside if Juan had not stopped 'em).

"_Bolus Pota.s.sae Sulphuret. sumendus_, _Et haustus ter in die capiendus._"

XLII.

This is the way physicians mend or end us, _Secundum artem_: but although we sneer In health--when ill, we call them to attend us, Without the least propensity to jeer; While that "_hiatus maxime deflendus_"

To be filled up by spade or mattock's near, Instead of gliding graciously down Lethe, We tease mild Baillie,[545] or soft Abernethy.

XLIII.

Juan demurred at this first notice to Quit; and though Death had threatened an ejection, His youth and const.i.tution bore him through, And sent the doctors in a new direction.

But still his state was delicate: the hue Of health but flickered with a faint reflection Along his wasted cheek, and seemed to gravel The faculty--who said that he must travel.

XLIV.

The climate was too cold, they said, for him, Meridian-born, to bloom in. This opinion Made the chaste Catherine look a little grim, Who did not like at first to lose her minion: But when she saw his dazzling eye wax dim, And drooping like an eagle's with clipt pinion, She then resolved to send him on a mission, But in a style becoming his condition.

XLV.

There was just then a kind of a discussion, A sort of treaty or negotiation, Between the British cabinet and Russian, Maintained with all the due prevarication With which great states such things are apt to push on; Something about the Baltic's navigation, Hides, train-oil, tallow, and the rights of Thetis, Which Britons deem their _uti possidetis_.

XLVI.

So Catherine, who had a handsome way Of fitting out her favourites, conferred This secret charge on Juan, to display At once her royal splendour, and reward His services. He kissed hands the next day, Received instructions how to play his card, Was laden with all kinds of gifts and honours, Which showed what great discernment was the donor's.

XLVII.

But she was lucky, and luck's all. Your Queens Are generally prosperous in reigning-- Which puzzles us to know what Fortune means:-- But to continue--though her years were waning, Her climacteric teased her like her teens; And though her dignity brooked no complaining, So much did Juan's setting off distress her, She could not find at first a fit successor.

XLVIII.

But Time, the comforter, will come at last; And four-and-twenty hours, and twice that number Of candidates requesting to be placed, Made Catherine taste next night a quiet slumber:-- Not that she meant to fix again in haste, Nor did she find the quant.i.ty enc.u.mber, But always choosing with deliberation, Kept the place open for their emulation.

XLIX.

While this high post of honour's in abeyance, For one or two days, reader, we request You'll mount with our young hero the conveyance Which wafted him from Petersburgh: the best Barouche, which had the glory to display once The fair Czarina's autocratic crest, When, a new Iphigene, she went to Tauris, Was given to her favourite,[546] and now _bore his_.

L.

A bull-dog, and a bullfinch, and an ermine, All private favourites of Don Juan;--for (Let deeper sages the true cause determine) He had a kind of inclination, or Weakness, for what most people deem mere vermin, Live animals: an old maid of threescore For cats and birds more penchant ne'er displayed, Although he was not old, nor even a maid;--

LI.

The animals aforesaid occupied Their station: there were valets, secretaries, In other vehicles; but at his side Sat little Leila, who survived the parries He made 'gainst Cossacque sabres in the wide Slaughter of Ismail. Though my wild Muse varies Her note, she don't forget the infant girl Whom he preserved, a pure and living pearl.

LII.

Poor little thing! She was as fair as docile, And with that gentle, serious character, As rare in living beings as a fossile Man, 'midst thy mouldy mammoths, "grand Cuvier!"[ke]

Ill fitted was her ignorance to jostle With this o'erwhelming world, where all must err: But she was yet but ten years old, and therefore Was tranquil, though she knew not why or wherefore.

LIII.

Don Juan loved her, and she loved him, as Nor brother, father, sister, daughter love.--I cannot tell exactly what it was; He was not yet quite old enough to prove Parental feelings, and the other cla.s.s, Called brotherly affection, could not move His bosom,--for he never had a sister: Ah! if he had--how much he would have missed her!

LIV.

And still less was it sensual; for besides That he was not an ancient debauchee, (Who like sour fruit, to stir their veins' salt tides, As acids rouse a dormant alkali,)[kf]

Although (_'t will_ happen as our planet guides) His youth was not the chastest that might be, There was the purest Platonism at bottom Of all his feelings--only he forgot 'em.

LV.

Just now there was no peril of temptation; He loved the infant orphan he had saved, As patriots (now and then) may love a nation; His pride, too, felt that she was not enslaved Owing to him;--as also her salvation Through his means and the Church's might be paved.

But one thing's odd, which here must be inserted, The little Turk refused to be converted.

LVI.