And the two are so mix'd with human dust,
That he who names one both perchance may hit on:
But in such matters Russia's mighty empress
Behaved no better than a common sempstress.
LXXVIII.

The whole court melted into one wide whisper,
And all lips were applied unto all ears!
The elder ladies' wrinkles curl'd much crisper

As they beheld; the younger cast some leers
On one another, and each lovely lisper

Smiled as she talk'd the matter o'er; but tears
Of rivalship rose in each clouded eye
Of all the standing army who stood by.
LXXIX.

All the ambassadors of all the powers

Inquired, who was this very new young man, Who promised to be great in some few hours? Which is full soon (though life is but a span): Already they beheld the silver showers

Of rubles rain, as fast as specie can, Upon his cabinet, besides the presents

Of several ribands, and some thousand peasants.(1)

LXXX.

Catherine was generous,-all such ladies are:
Love, that great opener of the heart and all
The ways that lead there, be they near or far,

Above, below, by turnpikes great or small,-
Love (though she had a cursed taste for war,
And was not the best wife, (2) unless we call
Such Clytemnestra: though perhaps 'tis better
That one should die, than two drag on the fetter)-

LXXXI.

Love had made Catherine make each lover's fortune,
Unlike our own half-chaste Elizabeth,
Whose avarice all disbursements did importune,

If history, the grand liar, ever saith

His answers with a very graceful bow,

As if born for the ministerial trade. Though modest, on his unembarrass'd brow Nature had written "gentleman." He said Little, but to the purpose; and his manner Flung hovering graces o'er him like a banner. LXXXIV.

An order from her majesty consign'd

Our young lieutenant to the genial care Of those in office: all the world look'd kind

(As it will look sometimes with the first stare, Which youth would not act ill to keep in mind), As also did Miss Protasoff then there, Named from her mystic office "l'Eprouveuse," A term inexplicable to the Muse.

LXXXV.

With her then, as in humble duty bound,
Juan retired, and so will I, until
My Pegasus shall tire of touching ground.
We have just lit on a "heaven-kissing hill,"
So lofty that I feel my brain turn round,

And all my fancies whirling like a mill;
Which is a signal to my nerves and brain,
To take a quiet ride in some green lane.

CANTO X.

I.

WHEN Newton saw an apple fall, he found In that slight startle from his contemplation'Tis said (for I'll not answer above ground

For any sage's creed or calculation)A mode of proving that the earth turn'd round In a most natural whirl, called "gravitation;" And this is the sole mortal who could grapple,

LXXXII.

But when the levee rose, and all was bustle
In the dissolving circle, all the nations'
Ambassadors began as 't were to hustle
Round the young man with their congratulations.
Also the softer silks were heard to rustle

Of gentle dames, among whose recreations
It is to speculate on handsome faces,
Especially when such lead to high places.
LXXXIII.

Juan, who found himself, he knew not how,
A general object of attention, made

(1) A Russian estate is always valued by the number of the slaves upon it.

(2) "Peter the Third died in July, 1762, just one week after his deposition. The real manner in which he came by his death is one of those events over which, it is probable, there will be for ever a veil impenetrable to human eyes, and known only to that Being to whom the heart is open, and from whom no secrets are concealed. The partisans that might have retained their attachment to him after his fall; the murmurs of the populace, who quietly permit revolutions to be effected, and afterwards lament those who have fallen their victims; the difficulties arising from keeping in custody a prisoner of such consequence; all these motives in conjunction tend to give credit to the opinion,

II.

Man fell with apples, and with apples rose,
If this be true; for we must deem the mode
In which Sir Isaac Newton could disclose
Through the then unpaved stars the turnpike road,
A thing to counterbalance human woes:

For ever since immortal man hath glow'd
With all kinds of mechanics, and full soon
Steam-engines will conduct him to the moon.

III.

And wherefore this exordium?-Why, just now,
In taking up this paltry sheet of paper,
My bosom underwent a glorious glow,
And my internal spirit cut a caper:

that some hand of uncontrollable authority shortened his days. But the conduct of Catherine before that event, and especially for four-and-thirty years that she afterwards reigned, is of itself alone a sufficient refutation of so atrecious a calumny as would fix the guilt of it on her." Tooke. -L. E.

(3) "The celebrated apple-tree, the fall of one of the apples of which is said to have turned the attention of Newton to the subject of gravity, was destroyed by wind about four years ago. The anecdote of the falling apple is mentioned neither by Dr. Stukeley nor by Mr. Conduit, and, as I have not been able to find any authority for it whatever, I did not feel myself at liberty to use it." Brewster's Life of Newton, p. 344.-L. E.

CANTO X.

And though so much inferior, as I know,

To those who, by the dint of glass and vapour, Discover stars, and sail in the wind's eye, I wish to do as much by poesy.

IV.

In the wind's eye I have sail'd, and sail; but for
The stars, I own my telescope is dim;
But at the least I have shunn'd the common shore,
And, leaving land far out of sight, would skim
The ocean of eternity: the roar

Of breakers has not daunted my slight, trim,
But still sea-worthy, skiff; and she may float
Where ships have founder'd, as doth many a boat.
V.

We left our hero, Juan, in the bloom

Of favouritism, but not yet in the blush ;-
And far be it from my Muses to presume
(For I have more than one Muse at a push)
To follow him beyond the drawing-room:

It is enough that Fortune found him flush
Of youth, and vigour, beauty, and those things
Which for an instant clip enjoyment's wings.

VI.

But soon they grow again and leave their nest. "Oh!" saith the Psalmist, "that I had a dove's Pinions to flee away, and be at rest!"

And who that recollects young years and loves,Though hoary now, and with a withering breast, And palsied fancy, which no longer roves [rather Beyond its dimm'd eye's sphere, but would much Sigh like his son, than cough like his grandfather?

VII.

But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink, Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow,

So narrow as to shame their wintry brink,

Which threatens inundations deep and yellow! Such difference doth a few months make. You'd think Grief a rich field which never would lie fallow: No more it doth; its ploughs but change their boys, Who furrow some new soil to sow for joys.

VIII.

But coughs will come when sighs depart—and now
And then before sighs cease; for oft the one
Will bring the other, ere the lake-like brow
Is ruffled by a wrinkle, or the sun

Of life reach'd ten o'clock: and while a glow,
Hectic and brief as summer's day nigh done,
O'erspreads the cheek which seems too pure for clay,
Thousands blaze, love, hope, die,—how happy they !—

IX.

But Juan was not meant to die so soon.
We left him in the focus of such glory
As may be won by favour of the moon,
Or ladies' fancies-rather transitory
Perhaps; but who would scorn the month of June,
Because December, with his breath so hoary,

(1) See post, p. 784.-"I have read the recent article of Jeffrey. I suppose the long and the short of it is, that he wishes to provoke me to reply. But I won't, for I owe him a good turn still for his kindness by-gone. Indeed, I presume that the present opportunity of attacking me again

Must come? Much rather should he court the ray, To hoard up warmth against a wintry day.

X.

Besides, he had some qualities which fix

Middle-aged ladies even more than young: The former know what's what; while new-fledged Know little more of love than what is sung [chicks In rhymes, or dreamt (for fancy will play tricks)

In visions of those skies from whence Love sprung. Some reckon women by their suns or years,

I rather think the moon should date the dears.

XI.

And why? because she's changeable and chaste.
I know no other reason, whatsoe'er
Suspicious people, who find fault in haste,

May choose to tax me with; which is not fair,
Nor flattering to "their temper or their taste,"

As my friend Jeffrey writes with such an air: (1) However, I forgive him, and I trust He will forgive himself;-if not, I must.

XII.

Old enemies who have become new friends

Should so continue-'tis a point of honour; And I know nothing which could make amends For a return to hatred: I would shun her Like garlic, howsoever she extends

Her hundred arms and legs, and fain outrun her. Old flames, new wives, become our bitterest foesConverted foes should scorn to join with those.

XIII.

This were the worst desertion:-renegadoes,
Even shuffling Southey, that incarnate lie,
Would scarcely join again the "reformadoes," (2)
Whom he forsook to fill the laureate's sty:
And honest men, from Iceland to Barbadoes,
Whether in Caledon or Italy,

Should not veer round with every breath, nor seize,
To pain, the moment when you cease to please.
XIV.

The lawyer and the critic but behold

The baser sides of literature and life,
And nought remains unseen, but much untold,
By those who scour those double vales of strife.
While common men grow ignorantly old,

The lawyer's brief is like the surgeon's knife,
Dissecting the whole inside of a question,
And with it all the process of digestion.

XV.

A legal broom's a moral chimney-sweeper,
And that's the reason he himself's so dirty;
The endless soot (3) bestows a tint far deeper
Than can be hid by altering his shirt; he
Retains the sable stains of the dark creeper,
At least some twenty-nine do out of thirty,
In all their habits;-not so you, I own;
As Cæsar wore his robe you wear your gown.

was irresistible; and I can't blame him, knowing what human nature is." B. Letters, June, 1822.-P. E. (2) "Reformers," or rather "Reformed." The Baron Bradwardine, in Waverley, is authority for the word. (3) Query, suit ?-Printer's Devil.

XVI.

And all our little feuds, at least all mine, Dear Jeffrey, once my most redoubted foe (As far as rhyme and criticism combine

To make such puppets of us things below), Are over: Here's a health to "Auld Lang Syne!" I do not know you, and may never know Your face-but you have acted on the whole Most nobly, and I own it from my soul. (1)

XVII.

And when I use the phrase of " Auld Lang Syne!"
"Tis not address'd to you-the more's the pity
For me, for I would rather take
my wine
With you, than aught (save Scott) in your proud city.
But somehow,-it may seem a schoolboy's whine,

And yet I seek not to be grand nor witty,
But I am half a Scot by birth, and bred
A whole one, and my heart flies to my head,—(2)
XVIII.

As" Auld Lang Syne" brings Scotland, one and all, Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and clear streams,

The Dee, the Don, Balgounie's brig's black wall, (3)
All my boy feelings, all my gentler dreams
Of what I then dreamt, clothed in their own pall,
Like Banquo's offspring;-floating past me seems
My childhood in this childishness of mine:

I care not-'tis a glimpse of " Auld Lang Syne."

XIX.

And though, as you remember, in a fit

Of wrath and rhyme, when juvenile and curly, I rail'd at Scots to show my wrath and wit,

Which must be own'd was sensitive and surly, Yet 't is in vain such sallies to permit,

They cannot quench young feelings fresh and early: I "scotch'd not kill'd" the Scotchman in my blood, And love the land of "mountain and of flood." (4) XX.

Don Juan, who was real, or ideal,

For both are much the same, since what men think Exists when the once thinkers are less real

Than what they thought, for mind can never sink,

(1) "This tribute to a former antagonist displays so much frankness, generosity, and manly feeling, that it must eradicate all latent remains of animosity from the bosom of any but the most rancorous and vindictive. In addition to these merits, the felicitous introduction of the poet's recollections of his boyish days renders this passage equal in poetical beauty to any that has proceeded from his pen." Campbell.-L. E.

(2) "I don't like to bore you about the Scotch novels (as they call them, though two of them are English, and the rest half so); but nothing can or could ever persuade me, since I was the first ten minutes in your company, that you are not the man: to me these novels have so much of Auld lang syne' (I was bred a canny Scot till ten years old), that I never move without them." Lord B. to Sir IV. Scott, Jan. 12, 1822.-L. E.

(3) The brig of Don, near the "auld toun" of Aberdeen, with its one arch, and its black deep salmon stream below, is in my memory as yesterday. I still remember, though perhaps I may misquote, the awful proverb which made me pause to cross it, and yet lean over it with a childish delight, being an only son, at least by the mother's side. The saying as recollected by me was this, but I have never heard or seen it since I was nine years of age:

And 'gainst the body makes a strong appeal;

And yet 't is very puzzling on the brink Of what is call'd eternity, to stare,

And know no more of what is here, than there;XXI.

Don Juan grew a very polish'd Russian

How we won't mention, why we need not say: Few youthful minds can stand the strong concussion Of any slight temptation in their way; But his just now were spread as is a cushion

Smooth'd for a monarch's seat of honour: gay
Damsels, and dances, revels, ready money,
Made ice seem paradise, and winter sunny.
XXII.

The favour of the empress was agreeable;
And though the duty wax'd a little hard,
Young people at his time of life should be able
To come off handsomely in that regard.
He was now growing up like a green tree, able
For love, war, or ambition, which reward
Their luckier votaries, till old age's tedium
Make some prefer the circulating medium.

XXIII.

About this time, as might have been anticipated,
Seduced by youth and dangerous examples,
Don Juan grew, I fear, a little dissipated;
Which is a sad thing, and not only tramples
On our fresh feelings, but-as being participated
With all kinds of incorrigible samples
Of frail humanity-must make us selfish,
And shut our souls up in us like a shell-fish.
XXIV.

This we pass over. We will also pass
The usual progress of intrigues between
Unequal matches, such as are, alas!

A young lieutenant's with a not old queen,
But one who is not so youthful as she was
In all the royalty of sweet seventeen.
Sovereigns may sway materials, but not matter,
And wrinkles, the d-d democrats, won't flatter.

XXV.

And Death, the sovereign's sovereign, though the great Gracchus of all mortality, who levels,

"Brig of Balgounie, black's your wa',

Wi' a wife's ae son, and a mear's ae foal,
Doun ye shall fa'!"'

[Moore, in his Life, states the correct reading of this le gend to be as follows:

(4)

"Brig o' Balgounie, wight (strong) is thy wa'; Wi' a wife's ae son on a mare's ae foal,

Down shalt thou fa'.”—P. E.]

"Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood," etc. Lay of the Last Minstrel.-L.E. "Cordial, however, and deep as were the impressions which he retained of Scotland, he would sometimes, in this as in all his other amiable feelings, endeavour perversely to belie his own better nature; and, when under the excitement of anger or ridicule, persuade not only others, but even himself, that the whole current of his feelings ran directly otherwise. . . . A friend of his once described to me the half playful rage into which she saw him thrown one day by a heedless girl, who remarked that she thought he had a little of the Scotch accent. Good God! I hope not!' be exclaimed, 'I'm sure I have n't. I would rather the whole dd country was sunk in the sea. I the Scotch accent!'" Moore.-P. E.

Which shrink from touch, as monarchs do from rhymes,
Save such as Southey can afford to give.
Perhaps he long'd 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 sigh'd for beauty:

XXXVIII.

Perhaps but, sans perhaps, we need not seek
For causes young or old: the canker-worm
Will feed upon the fairest freshest cheek,

As well as further drain the wither'd 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.

XXXIX.

I don't know how it was, but he grew sick:
The empress was alarm'd, and her physician
(The same who physick'd Peter) found the tick
Of his fierce pulse betoken a condition
Which augur'd of the dead, however quick

Itself, and show'd a feverish disposition;

At which the whole court was extremely troubled, The sovereign shock'd, and all his medicines doubled.

XL.

Low were the whispers, manifold the rumours: Some said he had been poison'd by Potemkin; Others talk'd learnedly of certain tumours,

Exhaustion, or disorders of the same kin; 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:
“ Sodæ sulphat. 3 vj. 3 fs. Manna optim.
Aq. fervent. f. 3 ifs. 3 ij. tinct. Sennæ

Haustus" (And here the surgeon came and cupp'd "R. Pulv. Com. gr. iij. Ipecacuanha” [him)

(With more beside if Juan had not stopp'd'em). "Bolus Potassæ 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 fill'd up by spade or mattock's near,
Instead of gliding graciously down Lethe,
We tease mild Baillie, (1) or soft Abernethy.(2)
XLIII.

Juan demurr'd at this first notice to

Quit; and though death had threaten'd an ejection, His youth and constitution bore him through, And sent the doctors in a new direction.

(1) For an account of Dr. Baillie's visit to Lord Byron, see antè, p. 596.-P. E.

(2) Both Dr. Baillie and John Abernethy, the great surgeon, were remarkable for plainness of speech.-L. E.

(3) The empress went to the Crimea, accompanied by the

But still his state was delicate: the hue

Of health but flicker'd with a faint reflection Along his wasted cheek, and seem'd 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,

Maintain'd with all the due prevarication
With which great states such things are apt to push
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, conferr'd
This secret charge on Juan, to display

At once her royal splendour, and reward
His services. He kiss'd hands the next day,

Received instructions how to play his card, Was laden with all kinds of gifts and honours, Which show'd what great discernment was the donor

XLVII.

But she was lucky, and luck's all. Your queen
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 brook'd 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 na
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 quantity encumber,
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,(3) and now bore his.

Emperor Joseph, in the year-I forget which.-[The Print de Ligne, who accompanied Catherine in her prog through her southern provinces, in 1787, gives the fall" ing particulars:-"We have been traversing, during › veral days, an immense tract of deserts formerly inhabeth