XIII. "Love rules the camp, the court, the grove;" for love Is heaven, and heaven is love:"-so sings the bard; Which it were rather difficult to prove,
(A thing with poetry in general hard.) Perhaps there may be something in "the grove," At least it rhymes to "love; " but I'm prepared To doubt no less than landlords of their rental) If "courts" and "camps "be quite so sentimental. XIV.
But if love don't, cash does, and cash alone:
Cash rules the grove, and fells it too besides : Without cash, camps were thin and courts were none; Without cash, Malthus tells you, "take no brides." So cash rules love the ruler, on his own
High ground, as Virgin Cynthia sways the tides; And, as for "heaven" being "love," why not say Is wax? Heaven is not love, 'tis matrimony. [honey
Good people all, of every degree,
Ye gentle readers and ungentle writers, In this twelfth canto 'tis my wish to be As serious as if I had for inditers Malthus and Wilberforce: the last set free
The negroes, and is worth a million fighters; While Wellington has but enslaved the whites, And Malthus does the thing 'gainst which he writes. XXI.
I'm serious-so are all men upon paper:
And why should I not form my speculation,
And hold up to the sun my little taper?
Mankind just now seem wrapt in meditation
On constitutions and steamboats of vapor;
While sages write against all procreation,
Unless a man can calculate his means
Of feeding brats the moment his wife weans.
XXII.
That's noble! that's romantic! For my part,
I think that " philo-genitiveness" is-
(Now here's a word quite after my own heart,
Though there's a shorter a good deal than this,
If that politeness set it not apart:
But I'm resolved to say nought that's amiss)say, methinks, that "philo-genitiveness" Might meet from men a little more forgiveness.
And now to business. Oh, my gentle Juan !
Thou art in London-in that pleasant place
Where every kind of mischief's daily brewing,
Which can await warm youth in its wild race.
'Tis true, that thy career is not a new one;
Thou art no novice in the headlong chase
Of early life; but this is a new land,
Which foreigners can never understand.
What with a small diversity of climate,
Of hot or cold, mercurial or sedate,
I could send forth my mandate like a primate,
Upon the rest of Europe's social state;
But thou art the most difficult to rhyme at,
All countries have their "lions," but in thee
Great Britain, which the Muse may penetrate
There is but one superb menagerie.
But 1 am sick of politics. Begin
"Paulo majora." Juan, undecided Among the paths of being "taken in,"
Above the ice had like skater glided: When tired of play, he flirted without sin With some of those fair creatures who have prided Themselves on innocent tantalization, And hate all vice except its reputation.
But these are few, and in the end they make
Some devilish escapade or stir, which shows
That even the purest people may mistake
Their way through virtue's primrose paths of snows: And then men stare, as if a new ass spake
To Balaam, and from tongue to ear o'erflows
And 'gainst those few your annalists have thun- Quicksilver small-talk, ending (if you note it) And Mitford, in the nineteenth century, [der'd; Gives, with Greek truth, the good old Greek the lie.1
With the kind world's amen-" Who would have thought it?"
The little Leila, with her orient eyes,
And taciturn Asiatic dispostion,
(Which saw all western things with small surprise
To the surprise of people of condition,
Who think that novelties are butterflies
To be pursued as food for inanition,)
Her charming figure and romantic history,
Became a kind of fashionable mystery.
The women much divided-as is usual
Among the sex in little things or great.
Think not, fair creatures, that I mean to abuse you
I have always liked you better than I state,
Since I've grown moral: still I must accuse you all
Of being apt to talk at a great rate;
And now there was a general sensation
Among you, about Leila's education.
In one point only were you settled-and
Some are soon bagg'd, but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And wild dismay o'er every angry cousin,
(Friends of the party,) who begin accusals
Such as-"Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have
chosen
Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals
To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray,
Look yes last night, and yet say no to-day?
[all-"Why?-Why?-Besides, Fred. really was attach'd;
"Twas not her fortune-he has enough without:
The time will come she'll wish that she had snatch'd
So good an opportunity, no doubt:-
But the old marchioness some plan had hatch'd,
As I'll tell Aurea at to-morrow's rout:
And after all poor Frederick may do better-
Pray, did you see her answer to his letter?"
You had reason; 'twas that a young child of grace, Smart uniforms and sparkling coronets
As beautiful as her own native land,
And far away, the last bud of her race, Howe'er our friend Don Juan might command
Himself for five, four, three, or two years' space, Would be much better taught beneath the eye Of peeresses whose follies had run dry.
So first there was a generous emulation,
And then there was a general competition
To undertake the orphan's education.
As Juan was a person of condition,
It had been an affront on this occasion
To talk of a subscription or petition,
But sixteen dowagers, ten unwed she sages,
Whose tale belongs to "Hallam's Middle Ages,"
XXXI.
And one or two sad, separate wives, without
A fruit to bloom upon their withering boughBegg'd to bring up the little girl, and "out,"For that's the phrase that settles all things now, Meaning a virgin's first blush at a rout,
And all her points as thorough-bred to show: And I assure you, that like virgin honey
Are spurn'd in turn, until her turn arrives, After male loss of time, and hearts, and bets Upon the sweep-stakes for substantial wives: And when at last the pretty creature gets Some gentleman who fights, or writes, or drives, It sooths the awkward squad of the dejected To find how very badly she selected.
For sometimes they accept some long pursuer,
Worn out with importunity; or fall
(But here perhaps the instances are fewer)
To the lot of him who scarce pursued at all.
A hazy widower turn'd of forty's sure?
(If 'tis not vain examples to recall)
To draw a high prize: now, howe'er he got her, I
See nought more strange in this than t'other lottery
XXXVIII.
I, for my part-(one "modern instance" more,)
"True, 'tis a pity-pity 'tis, 'tis true"-
Was chosen from out an amatory score,
Albeit my years were less discreet than few;
But though I also had reform'd before
Those became one who soon were to be two,
I'll not gainsay the generous public's voice-
Tastes their first season (mostly if they have money.) That the young lady made a monstrous choice.
But first of little Leila we'll dispose;
For, like a day-dawn, she was young and pure, Or like the old comparison of snows
Which are more pure than pleasant to be sure. Like many people every body knows,
Don Juan was delighted to secure
A goodly guardian for his infant charge,
Who might not profit much by being at large.
XLII.
Besides, he had found out he was no tutor,
(I wish that others would find out the same :)
And rather wish'd in such things to stand neuter,
For silly wards will bring their guardians blame :
So, when he saw each ancient dame a suitor,
To make his little wild Asiatic tame,
Consulting the "Society for Vice
Suppression," Lady Pinchbeck was his choice.
Olden she was-but had been very young:
Virtuous she was-and had been, I believe. Although the world has such an evil tongue That-but my chaster ear will not receive An echo of a syllable that's wrong:
In fact, there's nothing makes me so much grieve As that abominable tittle-tattle,
Which is the cud eschew'd by human cattle.
Moreover I've remark'd, (and I was once
A slight observer in a modest way,)
And so may every one except a dunce,
That ladies in their youth a little gay,
Besides their knowledge of the world, and sense
Of the sad consequence of going astray,
Are wiser in their warnings 'gainst the wo
Which the mere passionless can never know.
While the harsh prude indemnifies her virtue
By railing at the unknown and envied passion,
Seeking far less to save you than to hurt you,
Or what's still worse, to put you out of fashion,-
The kinder veteran with calm words will court you,
Entreating you to pause before you dash on;
Expounding and illustrating the riddle
Of epic Love's beginning, end, and middle.
Now, whether it be thus, or that they are stricter,
As better knowing why they should be so,
I think you'll find from many a family picture,
That daughters of such mothers as may know
The world by experience rather than by lecture,
Turn out much better for the Smithfield show
Of vestals brought into the marriage mart,
Than those bred up by prudes without a heart.
High in high circles, gentle in her own,
She was the mild reprover of the young,
Whenever-which means every day-they'd shown
An awkward inclination to go wrong.
The quantity of good she did's unknown,
Or, at the least, would lengthen out my song:-
In brief, the little orphan of the East
Had raised an interest in her which increased,
Juan, too, was a sort of favorite with her,
Because she thought him a good heart at bottom,
A little spoil'd, but not so altogether;
Which was a wonder, if you think who got him,
And how he had been toss'd, he scarce knew whither:
Though this might ruin others, it did not him,
At least entirely-for he had seen too many
Changes in youth, to be surprised at any.
And these vicissitudes tell best in youth;
For when they happen at a riper age,
People are apt to blame the fates, forsooth,
And wonder Providence is not more sage.
Adversity is the first path to truth:
He who hath proved war, storm, or woman's rage,
Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty,
Hath won the experience which is deem'd so weighty.
How far it profits is another matter,-
Our hero gladly saw his little charge
Safe with a lady, whose last grown-up daughter
Being long married, and thus set at large,
Had left all the accomplishments she taught her
To be transmitted, like the lord mayor's barge,
To the next comer; or-as it will tell
More Muse-like-like Cytherea's shell.
I call such things transmission; for there is
A floating balance of accomplishment
Which forms a pedigree from Miss to Miss,
According as their minds or backs are bent.
Some waltz; some draw; some fathom the abyss
Of metaphysics; others are content
With music; the most moderate shine as wits,
While others have a genius turn'd for fits.
But whether fits, or wits, or harpsichords,
Theology, fine arts, or finer stays,
May be the baits for gentlemen or lords
With regular descent, in these our days,
The last year to the new transfers its hoards;
New vestals claim men's eyes with the same praise
Of "elegant" et cetera, in fresh batches-
All matchless creatures, and yet bent on matches.
LIV.
I said that Lady Pinchbeck had been talk'd about—But now I will begin my poem. 'Tis
As who has not, if female, young, and pretty?
But now no more the ghost of scandal stalk'd about;
She merely was deem'd amiable and witty,
And several of her best bon-mots were hawk'd about;
Then she was given to charity and pity,
And pass'd (at least the latter years of life)
For being a most exemplary wife.
Perhaps a little strange, if not quite new,
That from the first of cantos up to this,
I've not begun what we have to go through.
These first twelve books are merely flourishes,
Preludios, trying just a string or two
Upon my lyre, or making the pegs sure;
And when so, you shall have the overture
My Muses do not care a pinch of rosin
About what's call'd success, or not succeeding.
Such thoughts are quite below the strain they've
'Tis a "great moral lesson" they are reading. I thought, at setting off, about two dozen
Cantos would do; but, at Apollo's pleading,
If that my Pegasus should not be founder'd,
I think to canter gently through a hundred.
LVI.
Don Juan saw that microcosm on stilts,
Yclept the great world; for it is the least, Although the highest: but as swords have hilts By which their power of mischief is increased, When man in battle or in quarrel tilts,
Thus the low world, north, south, or west, or east, Must still obey the high-which is their handle, Their moon, their sun, their gas, their farthing candle.
There's also nightly, to the uninitiated,
A peril-not indeed like love or marriage,
But not the less for this to be depreciated:
It is I meant and mean not to disparage
The show of virtue even in the vitiated-
It adds an outward grace unto their carriage-
But to denounce the amphibious sort of harlot,
"Couleur de rose," who's neither white nor scarlet.
LXIII.
Such is your cold coquette, who can't say "No,"
And won't say "Yes," and keeps you on and
On a lee-shore, till it begins to blow- [off-ing,
Then sees your heart wreck'd, with an inward
This works a world of sentimental wo, [scoffing;
And sends new Werters yearly to their coffin;
But yet is merely innocent flirtation,
Not quite adultery, but adulteration,
LXIV.
Let us prate.
"Ye gods, I grow a talker!"
The next of perils, though I place it sternest,
He had many friends who had many wives, and was Is when, without regard to "Church or State,"
Well look'd upon by both, to that extent
Of friendship which you may accept or pass;
In does nor good nor harm, being merely meant
To keep the wheels going of the higher class,
And draw them nightly when a ticket's sent: And what with masquerades, and fêtes, and balls, For the first season such a life scarce palls.
A young unmarried man, with a good name
And fortune, has an awkward part to play;
For good society is but a game,
"The royal game of goose," as I may say,
Where every body has some separate aim,
An end to answer, or a plan to lay-
The single ladies wishing to be double,
The married ones to save the virgins trouble.
I don't mean this as general, but particular
Examples may be found of such pursuits:
Though several also keep their perpendicular
Like poplars, with good principles for roots;
Yet many have a method more reticular-
"Fishers for men," like sirens with soft lutes; For talk six times with the same single lady, And you may get the wedding-dresses ready.
Perhaps you'll have a letter from the mother,
To say her daughter's feelings are trepann'd;
Perhaps you'll have a visit frem the brother,
All strut, and stays, and whiskers, to demand
What "your intentions are?"-One way or other
It seems the virgin's heart expects your hand;
And between pity for her case and yours,
You'll add to matrimony's list of cures.
LXI.
I've known a dozen weddings made even thus,
And some of them high names: I have also known
Young men who-though they hated to discuss
Pretensions which they never dream'd to have
Yet neither frighten'd by a female fuss, [shown-
Nor by mustachios moved, were let alone,
And lived, as did the broken-hearted fair,
In happier plight than if they form'd a pair.
A wife makes or takes love in upright earnest.
Abroad, such things decide few women's fate-
(Such, early traveller! is the truth thou learnest)-
But in old England, when a young bride errs,
Poor thing! Eve's was a trifling case to hers;
For 'tis a low, newspaper, humdrum, lawsuit
Country, where a young couple of the same ages
Can't form a friendship but the world o'erawes it.
Then there's the vulgar trick of those d-d
She cannot step as does an Arab barb,
Or Andalusian girl from mass returning, Nor wear as gracefully as Gauls her garb,
Nor in her eye Ausonia's glance is burning; Her voice, though sweet, is not so fit to warble those bravuras (which I still am learning To like, though I have been seven years in Italy,
She cannot do these things, nor one or two
Others, in that off-hand and dashing style
Which takes so much-so give the devil his due,
Nor is she quite so ready with her smile,
Nor settles all things in one interview,
(A thing approved as saving time and toil,) But though the soil may give you time and trouble Well cultivated, it will render double.
And if in fact she takes to a "grande passion,"
It is a very serious thing indeed;
Nine times in ten 'tis but caprice or fashion,
Coquetry, or a wish to take the lead,
The pride of a mere child with a new sash on,
Or wish to make a rival's bosom bleed;
But the tenth instance will be a tornado,
For there's no saying what they will or may do.
LXXVIII.
The reason's obvious: if there's an eclat,
They lose their caste at once, as do the Parias; And when the delicacies of the law [various, Have fill'd their papers with their comments Society, that china without flaw,
(The hypocrite!) will banish them like Marius, To sit amid the ruins of their guilt: For Fame's a Carthage not so soon rebuilt.
Perhaps this is as it should be ;-it is
A comment on the Gospel's "Sin no more,
And be thy sins forgiven: "—but upon this
I leave the saints to settle their own score.
Abroad, though doubtless they do much amiss,
An erring woman finds an opener door
For her return to virtue-as they call
The lady who should be at home to all.
LXXX.
For me, I leave the matter where I find it,
Knowing that such uneasy virtue leads
People some ten times less in fact to mind it,
And care but for discoveries and not deeds.
And as for chastity, you'll never bind it
By all the laws the strictest lawyer pleads,
But aggravate the crime you have not prevented
By rendering desperate those who had else repented
But Juan was no casuist, nor had ponder'd
Upon the moral lessons of mankind:
Besides, he had not seen, of several hundred,
A lady altogether to his mind.
A little "blasé "-'tis not to be wonder'd
At, that his heart had got a tougher rind:
And though not vainer from his past success,
No doubt his sensibilities were less.
He also had been busy seeing sights-
The parliament and all the other houses;
Had sate beneath the gallery at nights,
To hear debates whose thunder roused not (rouses) The world to gaze upon those northern lights,4 Which flash'd as far as where the musk-bul
He had also stood at times behind the throne
And have, or had, an ear that served me prettily)-'But Grey was not arrived, and Chatham gone.
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