George Gordon Lord Byron (1788-1824)
Don Juan: Canto the Eleventh
I
1When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter,"
2 And proved it--'twas no matter what he sald:
3They say his system 'tis in vain to batter,
4 Too subtle for the airiest human head;
5And yet who can believe it! I would shatter
6 Gladly all matters down to stone or lead,
7Or adamant, to find the World a spirit,
8And wear my head, denying that I wear it.
II
9What a sublime discovery 'twas to make the
10 Universe universal egotism,
11That all's ideal--all ourselves: I'll stake the
12 World (be it what you will) that that's no schism.
13Oh Doubt!--if thou be'st Doubt, for which some take thee,
14 But which I doubt extremely--thou sole prism
15Of the Truth's rays, spoil not my draught of spirit!
16Heaven's brandy, though our brain can hardly bear it.
III
17For ever and anon comes Indigestion
18 (Not the most "dainty Ariel") and perplexes
19Our soarings with another sort of question:
20 And that which after all my spirit vexes,
21Is, that I find no spot where Man can rest eye on,
22 Without confusion of the sorts and sexes,
23Of beings, stars, and this unriddled wonder,
24The World, which at the worst's a glorious blunder--
IV
25If it be chance--or, if it be according
26 To the Old Text, still better: lest it should
27Turn out so, we'll say nothing 'gainst the wording,
28 As several people think such hazards rude.
29They're right; our days are too brief for affording
30 Space to dispute what no one ever could
31Decide, and everybody one day will
32Know very clearly--or at least lie still.
V
33And therefore will I leave off metaphysical
34 Discussion, which is neither here nor there:
35If I agree that what is, is; then this I call
36 Being quite perspicuous and extremely fair.
37The truth is, I've grown lately rather phthisical:
38 I don't know what the reason is--the air
39Perhaps; but as I suffer from the shocks
40Of illness, I grow much more orthodox.
VI
41The first attack at once prov'd the Divinity
42 (But that I never doubted, nor the Devil);
43The next, the Virgin's mystical virginity;
44 The third, the usual Origin of Evil;
45The fourth at once establish'd the whole Trinity
46 On so uncontrovertible a level,
47That I devoutly wish'd the three were four--
48On purpose to believe so much the more.
VII
49To our theme.--The man who has stood on the Acropolis,
50 And look'd down over Attica; or he
51Who has sail'd where picturesque Constantinople is,
52 Or seen Timbuctoo, or hath taken tea
53In small-ey'd China's crockery-ware metropolis,
54 Or sat amidst the bricks of Nineveh,
55May not think much of London's first appearance--
56But ask him what he thinks of it a year hence!
VIII
57Don Juan had got out on Shooter's Hill;
58 Sunset the time, the place the same declivity
59Which looks along that vale of good and ill
60 Where London streets ferment in full activity,
61While everything around was calm and still,
62 Except the creak of wheels, which on their pivot he
63Heard, and that bee-like, bubbling, busy hum
64Of cities, that boil over with their scum--
IX
65I say, Don Juan, wrapp'd in contemplation,
66 Walk'd on behind his carriage, o'er the summit,
67And lost in wonder of so great a nation,
68 Gave way to't, since he could not overcome it.
69"And here," he cried, "is Freedom's chosen station;
70 Here peals the People's voice nor can entomb it
71Racks, prisons, inquisitions; resurrection
72Awaits it, each new meeting or election.
X
73"Here are chaste wives, pure lives; her people pay
74 But what they please; and if that things be dear,
75'Tis only that they love to throw away
76 Their cash, to show how much they have a-year.
77Here laws are all inviolate; none lay
78 Traps for the traveller; every highway's clear;
79Here"--he was interrupted by a knife,
80With--"Damn your eyes! your money or your life!"
XI
81These free-born sounds proceeded from four pads
82 In ambush laid, who had perceiv'd him loiter
83Behind his carriage; and, like handy lads,
84 Had seiz'd the lucky hour to reconnoitre,
85In which the heedless gentleman who gads
86 Upon the road, unless he prove a fighter
87May find himself within that isle of riches
88Expos'd to lose his life as well as breeches.
XII
89Juan, who did not understand a word
90 Of English, save their shibboleth, "God damn!"
91And even that he had so rarely heard,
92 He sometimes thought 'twas only their Salam,"
93Or "God be with you!"--and 'tis not absurd
94 To think so, for half English as I am
95(To my misfortune) never can I say
96I heard them wish "God with you," save that way--
XIII
97Juan yet quickly understood their gesture,
98 And being somewhat choleric and sudden,
99Drew forth a pocket pistol from his vesture,
100 And fired it into one assailant's pudding,
101Who fell, as rolls an ox o'er in his pasture,
102 And roar'd out, as he writh'd his native mud in,
103Unto his nearest follower or henchman,
104"Oh Jack! I'm floor'd by that ere bloody Frenchman!"
XIV
105On which Jack and his train set off at speed,
106 And Juan's suite, late scatter'd at a distance,
107Came up, all marvelling at such a deed,
108 And offering, as usual, late assistance.
109Juan, who saw the moon's late minion bleed
110 As if his veins would pour out his existence,
111Stood calling out for bandages and lint,
112And wish'd he had been less hasty with his flint.
XV
113"Perhaps,"thought he,"it is the country's wont
114 To welcome foreigners in this way: now
115I recollect some innkeepers who don't
116 Differ, except in robbing with a bow,
117In lieu of a bare blade and brazen front.
118 But what is to be done? I can't allow
119The fellow to lie groaning on the road:
120So take him up, I'll help you with the load."
XVI
121But ere they could perform this pious duty,
122 The dying man cried, "Hold! I've got my gruel!
123Oh! for a glass of max ! We've miss'd our booty--
124 Let me die where I am!" And as the fuel
125Of life shrunk in his heart, and thick and sooty
126 The drops fell from his death-wound, and he drew ill
127His breath, he from his swelling throat untied
128A kerchief, crying "Give Sal that!"--and died.
XVII
129The cravat stain'd with bloody drops fell down
130 Before Don Juan's feet: he could not tell
131Exactly why it was before him thrown,
132 Nor what the meaning of the man's farewell.
133Poor Tom was once a kiddy upon town,
134 A thorough varmint, and a real swell,
135Full flash, all fancy, until fairly diddled,
136His pockets first and then his body riddled.
XVIII
137Don Juan, having done the best he could
138 In all the circumstances of the case,
139As soon as "Crowner's 'quest" allow'd, pursu'd
140 His travels to the capital apace;
141Esteeming it a little hard he should
142 In twelve hours' time, and very little space,
143Have been oblig'd to slay a free-born native
144In self-defence: this made him meditative.
XIX
145He from the world had cut off a great man,
146 Who in his time had made heroic bustle.
147Who in a row like Tom could lead the van,
148 Booze in the ken, or at the spellken hustle?
149Who queer a flat? Who (spite of Bowstreet's ban)
150 On the high toby-spice so flash the muzzle?
151Who on a lark, with black-eyed Sal (his blowing),
152So prime, so swell, so nutty, and so knowing?
XX
153But Tom's no more--and so no more of Tom.
154 Heroes must die; and by God's blessing 'tis
155Not long before the most of them go home.
156 Hail! Thamis, hail! Upon thy verge it is
157That Juan's chariot, rolling like a drum
158 In thunder, holds the way it can't well miss,
159Through Kennington and all the other "tons,"
160Which make us wish ourselves in town at once;
XXI
161Through Groves, so called as being void of trees,
162 (Like lucus from no light); through prospects nam'd
163Mount Pleasant, as containing nought to please,
164 Nor much to climb; through little boxes fram'd
165Of bricks, to let the dust in at your ease,
166 With "To be let," upon their doors proclaim'd;
167Through "Rows" most modestly call'd "Paradise,"
168Which Eve might quit without much sacrifice;
XXII
169Through coaches, drays, chok'd turnpikes, and a whirl
170 Of wheels, and roar of voices, and confusion;
171Here taverns wooing to a pint of "purl,"
172 There mails fast flying off like a delusion;
173There barbers' blocks with periwigs in curl
174 In windows; here the lamplighter's infusion
175Slowly distill'd into the glimmering glass
176(For in those days we had not got to gas);
XXIII
177Through this, and much, and more, is the approach
178 Of travellers to mighty Babylon:
179Whether they come by horse, or chaise, or coach,
180 With slight exceptions, all the ways seem one.
181I could say more, but do not choose to encroach
182 Upon the guide-book's privilege. The sun
183Had set some time, and night was on the ridge
184Of twilight, as the party cross'd the bridge.
XXIV
185That's rather fine, the gentle sound of Thamis--
186 Who vindicates a moment, too, his stream--
187Though hardly heard through multifarious "damme's":
188 The lamps of Westminster's more regular gleam,
189The breadth of pavement, and yon shrine where Fame is
190 A spectral resident--whose pallid beam
191In shape of moonshine hovers o'er the pile--
192Make this a sacred part of Albion's Isle.
XXV
193The Druid's groves are gone--so much the better:
194 Stonehenge is not--but what the devil is it?--
195But Bedlam still exists with its sage fetter,
196 That madmen may not bite you on a visit;
197The Bench too seats or suits full many a debtor;
198 The Mansion House too (though some people quiz it)
199To me appears a stiff yet grand erection;
200But then the Abbey's worth the whole collection.
XXVI
201The line of lights too, up to Charing Cross,
202 Pall Mall, and so forth, have a coruscation
203Like gold as in comparison to dross,
204 Match'd with the Continent's illumination,
205Whose cities Night by no means deigns to gloss.
206 The French were not yet a lamp-lighting nation,
207And when they grew so--on their new-found lantern,
208Instead of wicks, they made a wicked man turn.
XXVII
209A row of Gentlemen along the streets
210 Suspended may illuminate mankind,
211As also bonfires made of country seats;
212 But the old way is best for the purblind:
213The other looks like phosphorus on sheets,
214 A sort of ignis fatuus to the mind,
215Which, though 'tis certain to perplex and frighten,
216Must burn more mildly ere it can enlighten.
XXVIII
217But London's so well lit, that if Diogenes
218 Could recommence to hunt his honest man
219And found him not amidst the various progenies
220 Of this enormous city's spreading spawn,
221'Twere not for want of lamps to aid his dodging his
222 Yet undiscover'd treasure. What I can,
223I've done to find the same throughout life's journey,
224But see the World is only one attorney.
XXIX
225Over the stones still rattling, up Pall Mall,
226 Through crowds and carriages, but waxing thinner
227As thunder'd knockers broke the long seal'd spell
228 Of doors 'gainst duns, and to an early dinner
229Admitted a small party as night fell,
230 Don Juan, our young diplomatic sinner,
231Pursu'd his path, and drove past some hotels,
232St. James's Palace, and St. James's "Hells."
XXX
233They reach'd the hotel: forth stream'd from the front door
234 A tide of well-clad waiters, and around
235The mob stood, and as usual several score
236 Of those pedestrian Paphians who abound
237In decent London when the daylight's o'er;
238 Commodious but immoral, they are found
239Useful, like Malthus, in promoting marriage:
240But Juan now is stepping from his carriage
XXXI
241Into one of the sweetest of hotels,
242 Especially for foreigners--and mostly
243For those whom favour or whom fortune swells,
244 And cannot find a bill's small items costly.
245There many an envoy either dwelt or dwells
246 (The den of many a diplomatic lost lie),
247Until to some conspicuous square they pass,
248And blazon o'er the door their names in brass.
XXXII
249Juan, whose was a delicate commission,
250 Private, though publicly important, bore
251No title to point out with due precision
252 The exact affair on which he was sent o'er.
253'Twas merely known, that on a secret mission
254 A foreigner of rank had grac'd our shore,
255Young, handsome and accomplish'd, who was said
256(In whispers) to have turn'd his Sovereign's head.
XXXIII
257Some rumour also of some strange adventures
258 Had gone before him, and his wars and loves;
259And as romantic heads are pretty painters,
260 And, above all, an Englishwoman's roves
261Into the excursive, breaking the indentures
262 Of sober reason, wheresoe'er it moves,
263He found himself extremely in the fashion,
264Which serves our thinking people for a passion.
XXXIV
265I don't mean that they are passionless, but quite
266 The contrary; but then 'tis in the head;
267Yet as the consequences are as bright
268 As if they acted with the heart instead,
269What after all can signify the site
270 Of ladies' lucubrations? So they lead
271In safety to the place for which you start,
272What matters if the road be head or heart?
XXXV
273Juan presented in the proper place,
274 To proper placement, every Russ credential;
275And was receiv'd with all the due grimace
276 By those who govern in the mood potential,
277Who, seeing a handsome stripling with smooth face,
278 Thought (what in state affairs is most essential)
279That they as easily might do the youngster,
280As hawks may pounce upon a woodland songster.
XXXVI
281They err'd, as aged men will do; but by
282 And by we'll talk of that; and if we don't,
283'T will be because our notion is not high
284 Of politicians and their double front,
285Who live by lies, yet dare not boldly lie:
286 Now, what I love in women is, they won't
287Or can't do otherwise than lie, but do it
288So well, the very truth seems falsehood to it.
XXXVII
289And, after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but
290 The truth in masquerade; and I defy
291Historians, heroes, lawyers, priests, to put
292 A fact without some leaven of a lie.
293The very shadow of true Truth would shut
294 Up annals, revelations, poesy,
295And prophecy--except it should be dated
296Some years before the incidents related.
XXXVIII
297Prais'd be all liars and all lies! Who now
298 Can tax my mild Muse with misanthropy?
299She rings the World's "Te Deum," and her brow
300 Blushes for those who will not: but to sigh
301Is idle; let us like most others bow,
302 Kiss hands, feet, any part of Majesty,
303After the good example of "Green Erin,"
304Whose shamrock now seems rather worse for wearing.
XXXIX
305Don Juan was presented, and his dress
306 And mien excited general admiration;
307I don't know which was more admir'd or less:
308 One monstrous diamond drew much observation,
309Which Catherine in a moment of "ivresse"
310 (In love or brandy's fervent fermentation)
311Bestow'd upon him, as the public learn'd;
312And, to say truth, it had been fairly earn'd.
XL
313Besides the ministers and underlings,
314 Who must be courteous to the accredited
315Diplomatists of rather wavering kings,
316 Until their royal riddle's fully read,
317The very clerks--those somewhat dirty springs
318 Of Office, or the House of Office, fed
319By foul corruption into streams--even they
320Were hardly rude enough to earn their pay.
XLI
321And insolence no doubt is what they are
322 Employ'd for, since it is their daily labour,
323In the dear offices of peace or war;
324 And should you doubt, pray ask of your next neighbour,
325When for a passport, or some other bar
326 To freedom, he applied (a grief and a bore),
327If he found not this spawn of tax-born riches,
328Like lap-dogs, the least civil sons of b{-}{-}{-}{-}{-}s.
XLII
329But Juan was receiv'd with much "empressement" --
330 These phrases of refinement I must borrow
331From our next neighbours' land, where, like a chessman,
332 There is a move set down for joy or sorrow,
333Not only in mere talking, but the press. Man
334 In islands is, it seems, downright and thorough,
335More than on continents--as if the sea
336(See Billingsgate) made even the tongue more free.
XLIII
337And yet the British "Damme" 's rather Attic,
338 Your continental oaths are but incontinent,
339And turn on things which no aristocratic
340 Spirit would name, and therefore even I won't anent
341This subject quote; as it would be schismatic
342 In politesse, and have a sound affronting in 't;
343But "Damme" 's quite ethereal, though too daring--
344Platonic blasphemy, the soul of swearing.
XLIV
345For downright rudeness, ye may stay at home;
346 For true or false politeness (and scarce that
347Now) you may cross the blue deep and white foam:
348 The first the emblem (rarely though) of what
349You leave behind, the next of much you come
350 To meet. However, 'tis no time to chat
351On general topics: poems must confine
352Themselves to Unity, like this of mine.
XLV
353In the great world--which, being interpreted,
354 Meaneth the West or worst end of a city,
355And about twice two thousand people bred
356 By no means to be very wise or witty,
357But to sit up while others lie in bed,
358 And look down on the Universe with pity--
359Juan, as an inveterate patrician,
360Was well receiv'd by persons of condition.
XLVI
361He was a bachelor, which is a matter
362 Of import both to virgin and to bride,
363The former's hymeneal hopes to flatter;
364 And (should she not hold fast by love or pride)
365'Tis also of some momemt to the latter:
366 A rib's a thorn in a wed gallant's side,
367Requires decorum, and is apt to double
368The horrid sin--and what's still worse the trouble.
XLVII
369But Juan was a bachelor--of arts,
370 And parts, and hearts: he danc'd and sung, and had
371An air as sentimental as Mozart's
372 Softest of melodies; and could be sad
373Or cheerful, without any "flaws or starts,"
374 Just at the proper time; and though a lad,
375Had seen the world--which is a curious sight,
376And very much unlike what people write.
XLVIII
377Fair virgins blush'd upon him; wedded dames
378Bloom'd also in less transitory hues;
379For both commodities dwell by the Thames
380The painting and the painted; Youth, Ceruse,
381Against his heart preferr'd their usual claims,
382Such as no gentleman can quite refuse;
383Daughters admir'd his dress, and pious mothers
384Inquir'd his income, and if he had brothers.
XLIX
385The milliners who furnish "drapery Misses"
386 Throughout the season, upon speculation
387Of payment ere the Honeymoon's last kisses
388 Have wan'd into a crescent's coruscation,
389Thought such an opportunity as this is,
390 Of a rich foreigner's initiation,
391Not to be overlook'd--and gave such credit,
392That future bridegrooms swore, and sigh'd, and paid it.
L
393The Blues, that tender tribe, who sigh o'er sonnets,
394 And with the pages of the last Review
395Line the interior of their heads or bonnets,
396 Advanc'd in all their azure's highest hue:
397They talk'd bad French or Spanish, and upon its
398 Late authors ask'd him for a hint or two;
399And which was softest, Russian or Castilian?
400And whether in his travels he saw Ilion?
LI
401Juan, who was a little superficial,
402 And not in literature a great Drawcansir,
403Examin'd by this learned and especial
404 Jury of matrons, scarce knew what to answer:
405His duties warlike, loving or official,
406 His steady application as a dancer,
407Had kept him from the brink of Hippocrene,
408Which now he found was blue instead of green.
LII
409However, he replied at hazard, with
410 A modest confidence and calm assurance,
411Which lent his learned lucubrations pith,
412 And pass'd for arguments of good endurance.
413That prodigy, Miss Araminta Smith
414 (Who at sixteen translated "Hercules Furens"
415Into as furious English), with her best look,
416Set down his sayings in her common-place book.
LIII
417Juan knew several languages--as well
418 He might--and brought them up with skill, in time
419To save his fame with each accomplish'd belle,
420 Who still regretted that he did not rhyme.
421There wanted but this requisite to swell
422 His qualities (with them) into sublime:
423Lady Fitz-Frisky, and Miss M{ae}via Mannish,
424Both long'd extremely to be sung in Spanish.
LIV
425However, he did pretty well, and was
426 Admitted as an aspirant to all
427The coteries, and, as in Banquo's glass,
428 At great assemblies or in parties small,
429He saw ten thousand living authors pass,
430 That being about their average numeral;
431Also the eighty "greatest living poets,"
432As every paltry magazine can show it's .
LV
433In twice five years the "greatest living poet,"
434 Like to the champion in the fisty ring,
435Is call'd on to support his claim, or show it,
436 Although 'tis an imaginary thing,
437Even I--albeit I'm sure I did not know it,
438 Nor sought of foolscap subjects to be king--
439Was reckon'd, a considerable time,
440The grand Napoleon of the realms of rhyme.
LVI
441But Juan was my Moscow, and Faliero
442 My Leipsic, and my Mont Saint Jean seem Cain:
443"La Belle Alliance" of dunces down at zero,
444 Now that the Lion's fall'n, may rise again,
445But I will fall at least as fell my hero;
446 Nor reign at all, or as a monarch reign;
447Or to some lonely isle of jailors go,
448With turncoat Southey for my turnkey Lowe.
LVII
449Sir Walter reign'd before me; Moore and Campbell
450 Before and after; but now grown more holy,
451The Muses upon Sion's hill must ramble
452 With poets almost clergymen, or wholly;
453And Pegasus has a psalmodic amble
454 Beneath the very Reverend Rowley Powley,
455Who shoes the glorious animal with stilts,
456A modern Ancient Pistol--"by the hilts!"
LVIII
457Still he excels that artificial hard
458 Labourer in the same vineyard, though the vine
459Yields him but vinegar for his reward--
460 That neutralis'd dull Dorus of the Nine;
461That swarthy Sporus, neither man nor bard;
462 That ox of verse, who ploughs for every line:
463Cambyses' roaring Romans beat at least
464The howling Hebrews of Cybele's priest.
LIX
465Then there's my gentle Euphues, who, they say,
466 Sets up for being a sort of moral me;
467He'll find it rather difficult some day
468 To turn out both, or either, it may be.
469Some persons think that Coleridge hath the sway;
470 And Wordsworth has supporters, two or three;
471And that deep-mouth'd Botian "Savage Landor"
472Has taken for a swan rogue Southey's gander.
LX
473John Keats, who was kill'd off by one critique,
474 Just as he really promis'd something great,
475If not intelligible, without Greek
476 Contriv'd to talk about the gods of late,
477Much as they might have been suppos'd to speak.
478 Poor fellow! His was an untoward fate;
479'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle,
480Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article.
LXI
481The list grows long of live and dead pretenders
482 To that which none will gain--or none will know
483The conqueror at least; who, ere Time renders
484 His last award, will have the long grass grow
485Above his burnt-out brain, and sapless cinders.
486 If I might augur, I should rate but low
487Their chances; they're too numerous, like the thirty
488Mock tyrants, when Rome's annals wax'd but dirty.
LXII
489This is the literary lower empire,
490 Where the pr{ae}torian bands take up the matter;
491A "dreadful trade," like his who "gathers samphire,"
492 The insolent soldiery to soothe and flatter,
493With the same feelings as you'd coax a vampire,
494 Now, were I once at home, and in good satire,
495I'd try conclusions with those Janizaries,
496And show them what an intellectual war is.
LXIII
497I think I know a trick or two, would turn
498 Their flanks; but it is hardly worth my while,
499With such small gear to give myself concern:
500 Indeed I've not the necessary bile;
501My natural temper's really aught but stern,
502 And even my Muse's worst reproof's a smile;
503And then she drops a brief and modern curtsy,
504And glides away, assur'd she never hurts ye.
LXIV
505My Juan, whom I left in deadly peril
506 Amongst live poets and blue ladies, pass'd
507With some small profit through that field so sterile,
508 Being tir'd in time, and, neither least nor last,
509Left it before he had been treated very ill;
510 And henceforth found himself more gaily class'd
511Amongst the higher spirits of the day,
512The sun's true son, no vapour, but a ray.
LXV
513His morns he pass'd in business--which dissected,
514 Was, like all business, a laborious nothing
515That leads to lassitude, the most infected
516 And Centaur-Nessus garb of mortal clothing,
517And on our sofas makes us lie dejected,
518 And talk in tender horrors of our loathing
519All kinds of toil, save for our country's good--
520Which grows no better, though 'tis time it should.
LXVI
521His afternoons he pass'd in visits, luncheons,
522 Lounging and boxing; and the twilight hour
523In riding round those vegetable puncheons
524 Call'd "Parks," where there is neither fruit nor flower
525Enough to gratify a bee's slight munchings;
526 But after all it is the only "bower"
527(In Moore's phrase) where the fashionable fair
528Can form a slight acquaintance with fresh air.
LXVII
529Then dress, then dinner, then awakes the world!
530 Then glare the lamps, then whirl the wheels, then roar
531Through street and square fast flashing chariots hurl'd
532 Like harness'd meteors; then along the floor
533Chalk mimics painting; then festoons are twirl'd;
534 Then roll the brazen thunders of the door,
535Which opens to the thousand happy few
536An earthly Paradise of "Or Molu."
LXVIII
537There stands the noble hostess, nor shall sink
538 With the three-thousandth curtsy; there the waltz,
539The only dance which teaches girls to think,
540 Makes one in love even with its very faults.
541Saloon, room, hall, o'erflow beyond their brink,
542 And long the latest of arrivals halts,
543'Midst royal dukes and dames condemn'd to climb,
544And gain an inch of staircase at a time.
LXIX
545Thrice happy he who, after a survey
546 Of the good company, can win a corner,
547A door that's in or boudoir out of the way,
548 Where he may fix himself like small "Jack Horner,"
549And let the Babel round run as it may,
550 And look on as a mourner, or a scorner,
551Or an approver, or a mere spectator,
552Yawning a little as the night grows later.
LXX
553But this won't do, save by and by; and he
554 Who, like Don Juan, takes an active share
555Must steer with care through all that glittering sea
556 Of gems and plumes and pearls and silks, to where
557He deems it is his proper place to be;
558 Dissolving in the waltz to some soft air,
559Or proudlier prancing with mercurial skill,
560Where Science marshals forth her own quadrille.
LXXI
561Or, if he dance not, but hath higher views
562 Upon an heiress or his neighbour's bride,
563Let him take care that that which he pursues
564 Is not at once too palpably descried.
565Full many an eager gentleman oft rues
566 His haste; impatience is a blundering guide
567Amongst a people famous for reflection,
568Who like to play the fool with circumspection.
LXXII
569But, if you can contrive, get next at supper;
570 Or, if forestalled, get opposite and ogle:
571Oh, ye ambrosial moments! always upper
572 In mind, a sort of sentimental bogle,
573Which sits for ever upon Memory's crupper,
574 The ghost of vanish'd pleasures once in vogue! Ill
575Can tender souls relate the rise and fall
576Of hopes and fears which shake a single ball.
LXXIII
577But these precautionary hints can touch
578 Only the common run, who must pursue,
579And watch and ward; whose plans a word too much
580 Or little overturns; and not the few
581Or many (for the number's sometimes such)
582 Whom a good mien, especially if new,
583Or fame, or name, for wit, war, sense or nonsense,
584Permits whate'er they please, or did not long since.
LXXIV
585Our hero, as a hero young and handsome,
586 Noble, rich, celebrated, and a stranger,
587Like other slaves of course must pay his ransom
588 Before he can escape from so much danger
589As will environ a conspicuous man. Some
590 Talk about poetry, and "rack and manger,"
591And ugliness, disease, as toil and trouble--
592I wish they knew the life of a young noble.
LXXV
593They are young, but know not youth--it is anticipated;
594 Handsome but wasted, rich without a sou;
595Their vigour in a thousand arms is dissipated;
596 Their cash comes from, their wealth goes to a Jew;
597Both senates see their nightly votes participated
598 Between the tyrant's and the tribunes' crew;
599And having voted, din'd, drunk, gam'd and whor'd,
600The family vault receives another lord.
LXXVI
601"Where is the World," cries Young, "at eighty? Where
602 The World in which a man was born?" Alas!
603Where is the world of eight years past? 'Twas there--
604 I look for it--'tis gone, a Globe of Glass!
605Crack'd, shiver'd, vanish'd, scarcely gaz'd on, ere
606 A silent change dissolves the glittering mass.
607Statesmen, chiefs, orators, queens, patriots, kings,
608And dandies--all are gone on the wind's wings.
LXXVII
609Where is Napoleon the Grand? God knows:
610 Where little Castlereagh? The devil can tell:
611Where Grattan, Curran, Sheridan, all those
612 Who bound the Bar or Senate in their spell?
613Where is the unhappy Queen, with all her woes?
614 And where the Daughter, whom the Isles lov'd well?
615Where are those martyr'd saints the Five per Cents?
616And where--oh, where the devil are the Rents?
LXXVIII
617Where's Brummell? Dish'd. Where's Long Pole Wellesley? Diddled.
618 Where's Whitbread? Romilly? Where's George the Third?
619Where is his will? (That's not so soon unriddled.)
620 And where is "Fum" the Fourth, our "royal bird"?
621Gone down, it seems, to Scotland to be fiddled
622 Unto by Sawney's violin, we have heard:
623"Caw me, caw thee"--for six months hath been hatching
624This scene of royal itch and loyal scratching.
LXXIX
625Where is Lord This? And where my Lady That?
626 The Honourable Mistresses and Misses?
627Some laid aside like an old Opera hat,
628 Married, unmarried, and remarried (this is
629An evolution oft perform'd of late).
630 Where are the Dublin shouts--and London hisses?
631Where are the Grenvilles? Turn'd as usual. Where
632My friends the Whigs? Exactly where they were.
LXXX
633Where are the Lady Carolines and Franceses?
634 Divorc'd or doing thereanent. Ye annals
635So brilliant, where the list of routs and dances is,
636 Thou Morning Post, sole record of the panels
637Broken in carriages, and all the phantasies
638 Of fashion, say what streams now fill those channels?
639Some die, some fly, some languish on the Continent,
640Because the times have hardly left them one tenant.
LXXXI
641Some who once set their caps at cautious dukes,
642 Have taken up at length with younger brothers:
643Some heiresses have bit at sharpers' hooks:
644 Some maids have been made wives, some merely mothers:
645Others have lost their fresh and fairy looks:
646 In short, the list of alterations bothers.
647There's little strange in this, but something strange is
648The unusual quickness of these common changes.
LXXXII
649Talk not of seventy years as age! in seven
650 I have seen more changes, down from monarchs to
651The humblest individuals under heaven,
652 Than might suffice a moderate century through.
653I knew that nought was lasting, but now even
654 Change grows too changeable, without being new:
655Nought's permanent among the human race,
656Except the Whigs not getting into place.
LXXXIII
657I have seen Napoleon, who seem'd quite a Jupiter,
658 Shrink to a Saturn. I have seen a Duke
659(No matter which) turn politician stupider,
660 If that can well be, than his wooden look.
661But it is time that I should hoist my "blue Peter,"
662 And sail for a new theme: I have seen--and shook
663To see it--the King hiss'd, and then caress'd;
664But don't pretend to settle which was best.
LXXXIV
665I have seen the Landholders without a rap--
666 I have seen Joanna Southcote--I have seen
667The House of Commons turn'd to a taxtrap--
668 I have seen that sad affair of the late Queen--
669I have seen crowns worn instead of a fool's cap--
670 I have seen a Congress doing all that's mean--
671I have seen some nations, like o'erloaded asses,
672Kick off their burthens--meaning the high classes.
LXXXV
673I have seen small poets, and great prosers, and
674 Interminable--not eternal--speakers--
675I have seen the funds at war with house and land--
676 I have seen the country gentlemen turn squeakers--
677I have seen the people ridden o'er like sand
678 By slaves on horseback--I have seen malt liquors
679Exchang'd for "thin potations" by John Bull--
680I have seen John half detect himself a fool.
LXXXVI
681But "carpe diem," Juan, "carpe, carpe!"
682 To-morrow sees another race as gay
683And transient, and devour'd by the same harpy.
684 "Life's a poor player"--then "play out the play,
685Ye villains!" and above all keep a sharp eye
686 Much less on what you do than what you say:
687Be hypocritical, be cautious, be
688Not what you seem, but always what you see.
LXXXVII
689But how shall I relate in other cantos
690 Of what befell our hero in the land,
691Which 'tis the common cry and lie to vaunt as
692 A moral country? But I hold my hand--
693For I disdain to write an Atalantis;
694 But 'tis as well at once to understand,
695You are not a moral people, and you know it,
696Without the aid of too sincere a poet.
LXXXVIII
697What Juan saw and underwent shall be
698 My topic, with of course the due restriction
699Which is requir'd by proper courtesy;
700 And recollect the work is only fiction,
701And that I sing of neither mine nor me,
702 Though every scribe, in some slight turn of diction,
703Will hint allusions never meant. Ne'er doubt
704This--when I speak, I don't hint, but speak out.
LXXXIX
705Whether he married with the third or fourth
706 Offspring of some sage husband-hunting countess,
707Or whether with some virgin of more worth
708 (I mean in Fortune's matrimonial bounties),
709He took to regularly peopling Earth,
710 Of which your lawful, awful wedlock fount is--
711Or whether he was taken in for damages,
712For being too excursive in his homages--
XC
713Is yet within the unread events of time.
714 Thus far, go forth, thou Lay, which I will back
715Against the same given quantity of rhyme,
716 For being as much the subject of attack
717As ever yet was any work sublime,
718 By those who love to say that white is black.
719So much the better!--I may stand alone,
720But would not change my free thoughts for a throne.
Notes
18] "dainty Ariel": see The Tempest, V, i, 95.
55] Shooter's Hill: on the Dover road, eight miles south of London, commanding a fine view of the city.
109] the moon's late minion: see Falstaff on thieves in I Henry IV, I, ii, 23-28.
123] max: gin (an example of the current underworld slang known as "flash").
133] kiddy ... real swell ... flash: more thieves' slang. A kiddy was a petty thief who showed off his success by a flashy ostentation of clothes and language.
139] "Crowner's 'quest": coroner's inquest. See the first gravedigger in Hamlet, V, i, 21.
145] With the help of a Regency slang dictionary the "flash" of this stanza has been translated as follows:
ken: a house that harbours thieves;
spellken: the playhouse;
queer a flat: confound a gull;
high toby-spice: robbery on horseback;
flash the muzzle: swagger openly;
blowing: pickpocket's trull;
nutty: pleased with the opposite sex.
162] lucus from no light: in Latin "lucus" can mean both a thick wood (or grove) and light, i.e., both darkness and light.
171] "purl": "a medicated malt liquor" (Moore).
198] Mansion House: official residence of the Lord Mayor.
207] new-found lantern. During the French Revolution the lantern or street lamp was used as an improvised gallows.
232] "Hells": gaming-houses.
236] Paphians: attendants of Venus (Paphos in Cyprus was the site of an ancient temple to Aphrodite).
239] Useful, like Malthus, in promoting marriage. The Essay on the Principle of Population (1798) of Thomas Robert Malthus was one of the most controversial works of the age. He saw war and famine as nature's means of preventing population from outrunning the supply of goods, but also advocated continence and fewer marriages as a means of birth control among the poor. Hence he was about as useful a supporter of marriage as a "Paphian" whore.
276] govern in the mood potential: i.e., govern as placemen or office-holders, not as Parliamentary members of the government ("mood potential" being a grammatical pun).
303] the good example of "Green Erin." George IV visited Ireland in 1820 and was given an extravagant welcome.
337] rather Attic: having the purity of classical Greek.
385] "drapery Misses." "It means a pretty, a highborn, a fashionable young female, well instructed by her friends, and furnished by her milliner with a wardrobe upon credit, to be repaid, when married, by the husband" (Byron's note).
402] Drawcansir: the name of a braggart in Villiers' The Rehearsal (1671).
407] Hippocrene: see note on I, ccv.
414] "Hercules Furens": a play by the Roman dramatist, Seneca.
427] Banquo's glass: see Macbeth, IV, i, 112-24.
441] Faliero. Byron's play Marino Faliero was not intended for the stage and failed when it was performed against his wish at Drury Lane in April and May, 1821.
442] Cain. Byron's Cain (1821), which he called a "mystery" play, was much criticized for its "blasphemies."
Leipsic ... Mont Saint Jean ... La Belle Alliance. Leipsig and Waterloo (a farmhouse called Mont St. Jean was on the battlefield) were two of Napoleon's most crucial defeats. "La Belle Alliance was the farmhouse in which Blücher and Wellington met and saluted each other as victors after the tide of battle had turned at Waterloo" (W. W. Pratt's note).
448] turncoat Southey: see note on Dedication, i.
turnkey Lowe. "Sir Hudson Lowe was governor of St. Helena during Napoleon's exile" (W. W. Pratt's note).
454] the very Reverend Rowley Powley: the Rev. George Croly (1780-1860), a minor but prolific poet, fond of imitating Byron's work and known as "Cambyses" Croly for his bombastic manner.
456] "by the hilts": see I Henry IV, iv, 233.
457] The victim of this attack is Henry Hart Milman (1791-1868), author of The Fall of Jerusalem (hence "the howling Hebrews") and a Quarterly reviewer disliked by Byron. Some of Byron's allusions are obscure, but for Sporus see Pope's Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, 305-33 and note, and for "Cambyses' roaring Romans" see note on stanza lvii above (Coly wrote a play called Catiline). The Asiatic and Athenian goddess "Cybele's priests" were eunuchs.
465] my gentle Euphues: Bryan Waller Procter, "Barry Comwall" (1787-1874), author of Diego de Montilla, a poem which Francis Jeffrey in the Edinburgh Review thought to resemble Don Juan, but with "no profligacy" and "no mocking of virtue and honour." Euphues is the hero of an Elizabethan prose romance by John Lyly and gave his name to the "Euphuistic" style. But Byron seems to be confusung his terms and thinking of Procter's poem as a sort of "euphemistic" Don Juan.
471] Boeotian. The Athenians thought the people of Boeotia boorish and dull.
473] Keats may have been deeply affected by the slashing review of Endymion in the Quarterly Review of April 1818, but that it was instrumental in his death is an exploded legend. Byron seems to have acquired the notion from Shelley, who used it in the Preface to Adonais as well as in the poem itself.
487-88] the thirty mock tyrants: the thirty pretenders to the throne in the reign of Gallienus in the third century.
490] praetorian bands: the Roman emperor's guard, whose political power in the days of the empire's decline gave them control over the succession to the throne, which might even be offered to the highest bidder.
495] Janizaries: the Turkish standing army and sultan's guard.
516] Centaur-Nessus garb. The blood-poisoned garment of Nessus the Centaur was sent to Hercules by his wife for its supposed power of winning back his love. Instead the agony of wearing it led to Hercules' death on a pyre.
533] Chalk mimics painting. Chalk drawings on the floor were characteristic of Regency ballrooms on special occasions.
536] "Or Molu": gilded bronze.
590] "rack and manger." The modern equivalent is "rack and ruin."
601] "Where is the World," cries Young, "at eighty?" Edward Young (1683-1765), author of the once famous Night Thoughts, wrote this phrase at eighty in a poem called Resignation.
611] Grattan, Curran, Sheridan. Henry Grattan, John Philpot Curran, and Richard Brinsley Sheridan (the dramatist) were Whig M.P.'s and Irishmen, who died in 1820, 1817, and 1816.
613-14] The unhappy Queen ... the Daughter. Queen Caroline, tried for unfidelity in 1820, died in 1821; her daughter, Princess Charlotte, had died in childbirth in 1817.
617] Brummell ... Long Pole Wellesley: George "Beau" Brummell, bankrupt Regency fashion-plate, now in exile from his creditors, and William Pole Tylney Long Wellesley (Wellington's nephew), fashionable wastrel on the verge of bankruptcy.
618] Whitbread? Romilly? Samuel Whitbread, Whig M.P., committed suicide in 1815 and Sir Samuel Romilly, who had earned Byron's enmity by being his wife's legal adviser, in 1818.
619] Where is his will? George III's unsigned will was the cause of much dispute.
620] "Fum" the Fourth, our "royal bird." George IV's popular nickname was "Hum," an apartment of the Brighton Pavilion contained an ornament called "Fum, the Chinese Bird of Royalty," and Moore had written a satire called "Fum and Hum, the Two Birds of Royalty."
621] to Scotland. George IV visited Scotland in 1822.
623] Caw: claw or scratch.
631] Where are the Grenvilles? Turned as usual. Byron saw William Wyndham, Baron Grenville (1759-1834) as an apostate from his early liberalism. Since Grenville's father had first supported and then broken with the elder Pitt, such changes seemed to run in the family.
633] Lady Carolines and Franceses. Lady Caroline Lamb and Lady Frances Webster, now estranged from their husbands, were two of the women in Byron's life between 1812 and 1814.
658] Duke: presumably the Duke of Wellington.
661] "blue Peter": the naval flag which signalizes immediate sailing.
666] Joanna Southcote: the ignorant founder of a fanatical sect, who (suffering from dropsy) announced that she was about to give birth to a second Shiloh (see Genesis 40:10).
668] sad affair of the late Queen: see note on stanza lxxvi above.
670] Congress doing all that's mean. The allied sovereigns, disturbed by the popular uprising in Spain, met in Verona in 1822.
675] the funds at war: the National Debt and the Sinking Fund which unsuccessfully attempted to reduce it.
677] I have seen the people ridden o'er. Byron apparently refers to the dispersal of a Reform gathering in St. Peter's Fields outside Manchester by troops on horseback on August 16, 1819 (the so-called Peterloo Massacre).
679] "thin potations": a means by which brewers might escape the malt tax; see II Henry IV, IV, iii, 133-36.
681] carpe diem: enjoy the present day (see Horace, Odes, I, xi, 8).
684] "Life's a poor player"--then "play out the play": see Macbeth, V, v, 24, and I Henry IV, II, iv, 539.
693] Atalantis: see Pope's Rape of the Lock, III, 165 and note.
Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.
Original text: Byron, Works. 17 vols. London: John Murray, 1832-33. PR 4351 M6 1832 ROBA
First publication date:
1823
RPO poem editor: M. T. Wilson
RP edition: 3RP 2.540.
Recent editing: 2:2002/1/10
Composition date:
1822
Rhyme: abababcc
Other poems by George Gordon Lord Byron