The Works of Lord Byron Volume VI Part 93

[556] [See _The Prince_ (_Il Principe_), chap. xvii., by Niccol Machiavelli, translated by Ninian Hill Thomson, 1897, p. 121: "But above all [a Prince] must abstain from the property of others. For men will sooner forget the death of their father than the loss of their patrimony."]

[557] [India; America.]

{425}[558] [Elizabeth Fry (1780-1845) began her visits to Newgate in 1813. In 1820 she corresponded with the Princess Sophie of Russia, and at a later period she was entertained by Louis Philippe, and by the King of Prussia at Kaiserwerth. She might have, she may have, admonished George IV. "with regard to all good things."]

{426}[559] [See _The Age of Bronze_, line 768, _Poetical Works_, 1901, v. 578, note 1.]

[560]

["O for a blast of that dread horn, On Fontarabian echoes borne, That to King Charles did come, When Rowland brave, and Olivier, And every paladin and peer, On Roncesvalles died."

_Marmion_, Canto VI. stanza x.x.xiii. lines 7-12.]

[kj] _Like an old Roman trumpet ere a battle_.--[MS. erased.]

[561] B. Genoa, Oct. 6^th^, 1822. End of Canto 10^th^.

CANTO THE ELEVENTH.

I.

WHEN Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter,"[562]

And proved it--'t was no matter what he said: They say his system 't is in vain to batter, Too subtle for the airiest human head; And yet who can believe it? I would shatter Gladly all matters down to stone or lead, Or adamant, to find the World a spirit, And wear my head, denying that I wear it.

II.

What a sublime discovery 't was to make the Universe universal egotism, That all's ideal--_all ourselves!_--I'll stake the World (be it what you will) that _that's_ no schism.

Oh Doubt!--if thou be'st Doubt, for which some take thee, But which I doubt extremely--thou sole prism Of the Truth's rays, spoil not my draught of spirit!

Heaven's brandy, though our brain can hardly bear it.

III.

For ever and anon comes Indigestion (Not the most "dainty Ariel"),[563] and perplexes Our soarings with another sort of question: And that which after all my spirit vexes, Is, that I find no spot where Man can rest eye on, Without confusion of the sorts and s.e.xes, Of Beings, Stars, and this unriddled wonder, The World, which at the worst's a _glorious_ blunder--

IV.

If it be chance--or, if it be according To the old text, still better:--lest it should Turn out so, we 'll say nothing 'gainst the wording, As several people think such hazards rude.

They're right; our days are too brief for affording s.p.a.ce to dispute what _no one_ ever could Decide, and _everybody one day_ will Know very clearly--or at least lie still.

V.

And therefore will I leave off metaphysical Discussion, which is neither here nor there: If I agree that what is, is; then this I call Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair; The truth is, I've grown lately rather phthisical:[564]

I don't know what the reason is--the air Perhaps; but as I suffer from the shocks Of illness, I grow much more orthodox.

VI.

The first attack at once proved the Divinity (But that I never doubted, nor the Devil); The next, the Virgin's mystical virginity; The third, the usual Origin of Evil; The fourth at once established the whole Trinity On so uncontrovertible a level, That I devoutly wished the three were four-- On purpose to believe so much the more.

VII.

To our theme.--The man who has stood on the Acropolis, And looked down over Attica; or he Who has sailed where picturesque Constantinople is, Or seen Timbuctoo, or hath taken tea In small-eyed China's crockery-ware metropolis, Or sat amidst the bricks of Nineveh,[kk]

May not think much of London's first appearance-- But ask him what he thinks of it a year hence!

VIII.

Don Juan had got out on Shooter's Hill; Sunset the time, the place the same declivity Which looks along that vale of Good and Ill Where London streets ferment in full activity, While everything around was calm and still, Except the creak of wheels, which on their pivot he Heard,--and that bee-like, bubbling, busy hum Of cities, that boil over with their sc.u.m:--

IX.

I say, Don Juan, wrapped in contemplation, Walked on behind his carriage, o'er the summit, And lost in wonder of so great a nation, Gave way to 't, since he could not overcome it.

"And here," he cried, "is Freedom's chosen station; Here peals the People's voice, nor can entomb it Racks--prisons--inquisitions; Resurrection Awaits it, each new meeting or election.

X.

"Here are chaste wives, pure lives; here people pay But what they please; and if that things be dear, 'T is only that they love to throw away Their cash, to show how much they have a-year.

Here laws are all inviolate--none lay Traps for the traveller--every highway's clear-- Here"--he was interrupted by a knife, With--"d.a.m.n your eyes! your money or your life!"--

XI.

These free-born sounds proceeded from four pads In ambush laid, who had perceived him loiter Behind his carriage; and, like handy lads, Had seized the lucky hour to reconnoitre, In which the heedless gentleman who gads Upon the road, unless he prove a fighter, May find himself within that isle of riches Exposed to lose his life as well as breeches.

XII.

Juan, who did not understand a word Of English, save their shibboleth, "G.o.d d.a.m.n!"[565]

And even that he had so rarely heard, He sometimes thought 't was only their "Salam,"

Or "G.o.d be with you!"--and 't is not absurd To think so,--for half English as I am (To my misfortune), never can I say I heard them wish "G.o.d with you," save that way;--

XIII.

Juan yet quickly understood their gesture, And being somewhat choleric and sudden, Drew forth a pocket pistol from his vesture, And fired it into one a.s.sailant's pudding-- Who fell, as rolls an ox o'er in his pasture, And roared out, as he writhed his native mud in, Unto his nearest follower or henchman, "Oh Jack! I'm floored by that 'ere b.l.o.o.d.y Frenchman!"

XIV.

On which Jack and his train set off at speed, And Juan's suite, late scattered at a distance, Came up, all marvelling at such a deed, And offering, as usual, late a.s.sistance.

Juan, who saw the moon's late minion[566] bleed As if his veins would pour out his existence, Stood calling out for bandages and lint, And wished he had been less hasty with his flint.

XV.

"Perhaps," thought he, "it is the country's wont To welcome foreigners in this way: now I recollect some innkeepers who don't Differ, except in robbing with a bow, In lieu of a bare blade and brazen front-- But what is to be done? I can't allow The fellow to lie groaning on the road: So take him up--I'll help you with the load."

XVI.

But ere they could perform this pious duty, The dying man cried, "Hold! I've got my gruel!