lirik lagu don juan (canto i) - tyrone power
young juan now was sixteen years of age
tall, handsome, slender, but well knit: he seem’d
active, though not so sprightly, as a page;
and everybody but his mother deem’d
him almost man; but she flew in a rage
and bit her lips (for else she might have scream’d)
if any said so, for to be precocious
was in her eyes a thing the most atrocious
amongst her numerous acquaintance, all
selected for discretion and devotion
there was the donna julia, whom to call
pretty were but to give a feeble notion
of many charms in her as natural
as sweetness to the flower, or salt to ocean
her zone to venus, or his bow to cupid
(but this last simile is trite and stupid)
the darkness of her oriental eye
accorded with her moorish origin
(her blood was not all spanish, by the by;
in spain, you know, this is a sort of sin);
when proud granada fell, and, forced to fly
boabdil wept, of donna julia’s kin
some went to africa, some stay’d in spain
her great~great~grandmamma chose to remain
she married (i forget the pedigree)
with an hidalgo, who transmitted down
his blood less n0ble than such blood should be;
at such alliances his sires would frown
in that point so precise in each degree
that they bred in and in, as might be shown
marrying their cousins—nay, their aunts, and nieces
which always spoils the breed, if it increases
this heathenish cross restored the breed again
ruin’d its blood, but much improved its flesh;
for from a root the ugliest in old spain
sprung up a branch as beautiful as fresh;
the sons no more were short, the daughters plain:
but there’s a rumour which i fain would hush
’tis said that donna julia’s grandmamma
produced her don more heirs at love than law
however this might be, the race went on
improving still through every generation
until it centred in an only son
who left an only daughter; my narration
may have suggested that this single one
could be but julia (whom on this occasion
i shall have much to speak about), and she
was married, charming, chaste, and twenty~three
her eye (i’m very fond of handsome eyes)
was large and dark, suppressing half its fire
until she spoke, then through its soft disguise
flash’d an expression more of pride than ire
and love than either; and there would arise
a something in them which was not desire
but would have been, perhaps, but for the soul
which struggled through and chasten’d down the whole
her glossy hair was cl~ster’d o’er a brow
bright with intelligence, and fair, and smooth;
her eyebrow’s shape was like th’ aerial bow
her cheek all purple with the beam of youth
mounting at times to a transparent glow
as if her veins ran lightning; she, in sooth
possess’d an air and grace by no means common:
her stature tall—i hate a dumpy woman
wedded she was some years, and to a man
of fifty, and such husbands are in plenty;
and yet, i think, instead of such a one
’twere better to have two of five~and~twenty
especially in countries near the sun:
and now i think on ’t, ‘mi vien in mente,’
ladies even of the most uneasy virtue
prefer a spouse whose age is short of thirty
’tis a sad thing, i cannot choose but say
and all the fault of that indecent sun
who cannot leave alone our helpless clay
but will keep baking, broiling, burning on
that howsoever people fast and pray
the flesh is frail, and so the soul undone:
what men call gallantry, and gods adultery
is much more common where the climate ’s sultry
happy the nations of the moral north!
where all is virtue, and the winter season
sends sin, without a rag on, shivering forth
(’twas snow that brought st. anthony to reason);
where juries cast up what a wife is worth
by laying whate’er sum in mulct they please on
the lover, who must pay a handsome price
because it is a marketable vice
alfonso was the name of julia’s lord
a man well looking for his years, and who
was neither much beloved nor yet abhorr’d:
they lived together, as most people do
suffering each other’s foibles by accord
and not exactly either one or two;
yet he was jealous, though he did not show it
for jealousy dislikes the world to know it
julia was—yet i never could see why—
with donna inez quite a favourite friend;
between their tastes there was small sympathy
for not a line had julia ever penn’d:
some people whisper but no doubt they lie
for malice still imputes some private end
that inez had, ere don alfonso’s marriage
forgot with him her very prudent carriage;
and that still keeping up the old connection
which time had lately render’d much more chaste
she took his lady also in affection
and certainly this course was much the best:
she flatter’d julia with her sage protection
and complimented don alfonso’s taste;
and if she could not (who can?) silence scandal
at least she left it a more slender handle
i can’t tell whether julia saw the affair
with other people’s eyes, or if her own
discoveries made, but none could be aware
of this, at least no symptom e’er was shown;
perhaps she did not know, or did not care
indifferent from the first or callous grown:
i’m really puzzled what to think or say
she kept her counsel in so close a way
juan she saw, and, as a pretty child
caress’d him often—such a thing might be
quite innocently done, and harmless styled
when she had twenty years, and thirteen he;
but i am not so sure i should have smiled
when he was sixteen, julia twenty~three;
these few short years make wondrous alterations
particularly amongst sun~burnt nations
whate’er the cause might be, they had become
changed; for the dame grew distant, the youth shy
their looks cast down, their greetings almost dumb
and much embarrassment in either eye;
there surely will be little doubt with some
that donna julia knew the reason why
but as for juan, he had no more notion
than he who never saw the sea of ocean
yet julia’s very coldness still was kind
and tremulously gentle her small hand
withdrew itself from his, but left behind
a little pressure, thrilling, and so bland
and slight, so very slight, that to the mind
’twas but a doubt; but ne’er magician’s wand
wrought change with all armida’s fairy art
like what this light touch left on juan’s heart
and if she met him, though she smiled no more
she look’d a sadness sweeter than her smile
as if her heart had deeper thoughts in store
she must not own, but cherish’d more the while
for that compression in its burning core;
even innocence itself has many a wile
and will not dare to trust itself with truth
and love is taught hypocrisy from youth
but passion most dissembles, yet betrays
even by its darkness; as the blackest sky
foretells the heaviest tempest, it displays
its workings through the vainly guarded eye
and in whatever aspect it arrays
itself, ’tis still the same hypocrisy;
coldness or anger, even disdain or hate
are masks it often wears, and still too late
then there were sighs, the deeper for suppression
and stolen glances, sweeter for the theft
and burning blushes, though for no transgression
tremblings when met, and restlessness when left;
all these are little preludes to possession
of which young passion cannot be bereft
and merely tend to show how greatly love is
embarrass’d at first starting with a novice
poor julia’s heart was in an awkward state;
she felt it going, and resolved to make
the n0blest efforts for herself and mate
for honour’s, pride’s, religion’s, virtue’s sake;
her resolutions were most truly great
and almost might have made a tarquin quake:
she pray’d the virgin mary for her grace
as being the best judge of a lady’s case
she vow’d she never would see juan more
and next day paid a visit to his mother
and look’d extremely at the opening door
which, by the virgin’s grace, let in another;
grateful she was, and yet a little sore—
again it opens, it can be no other
’tis surely juan now—no! i’m afraid
that night the virgin was no further pray’d
she now determined that a virtuous woman
should rather face and overcome temptation
that flight was base and dastardly, and no man
should ever give her heart the least sensation;
that is to say, a thought beyond the common
preference, that we must feel upon occasion
for people who are pleasanter than others
but then they only seem so many brothers
and even if by chance—and who can tell?
the devil ’s so very sly—she should discover
that all within was not so very well
and, if still free, that such or such a lover
might please perhaps, a virtuous wife can quell
such thoughts, and be the better when they’re over;
and if the man should ask, ’tis but denial:
i recommend young ladies to make trial
and then there are such things as love divine
bright and immaculate, unmix’d and pure
such as the angels think so very fine
and matrons who would be no less secure
platonic, perfect, ‘just such love as mine;’
thus julia said—and thought so, to be sure;
and so i’d have her think, were i the man
on whom her reveries celestial ran
such love is innocent, and may exist
between young persons without any danger
a hand may first, and then a lip be kist;
for my part, to such doings i’m a stranger
but hear these freedoms form the utmost list
of all o’er which such love may be a ranger:
if people go beyond, ’tis quite a crime
but not my fault—i tell them all in time
love, then, but love within its proper limits
was julia’s innocent determination
in young don juan’s favour, and to him its
exertion might be useful on occasion;
and, lighted at too pure a shrine to dim its
ethereal l~stre, with what sweet persuasion
he might be taught, by love and her together—
i really don’t know what, nor julia either
fraught with this fine intention, and well fenced
in mail of proof—her purity of soul—
she, for the future of her strength convinced
and that her honour was a rock, or mole
exceeding sagely from that hour dispensed
with any kind of troublesome control;
but whether julia to the task was equal
is that which must be mention’d in the sequel
her plan she deem’d both innocent and feasible
and, surely, with a stripling of sixteen
not scandal’s fangs could fix on much that ’s seizable
or if they did so, satisfied to mean
nothing but what was good, her breast was peaceable—
a quiet conscience makes one so serene!
christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded
that all the apostles would have done as they did
and if in the mean time her husband died
but heaven forbid that such a thought should cross
her brain, though in a dream! (and then she sigh’d)
never could she survive that common loss;
but just suppose that moment should betide
i only say suppose it—inter nos
(this should be entre nous, for julia thought
in french, but then the rhyme would go for naught.)
i only say suppose this supposition:
juan being then grown up to man’s estate
would fully suit a widow of condition
even seven years hence it would not be too late;
and in the interim (to pursue this vision)
the mischief, after all, could not be great
for he would learn the rudiments of love
i mean the seraph way of those above
so much for julia. now we’ll turn to juan
poor little fellow! he had no idea
of his own case, and never hit the true one;
in feelings quick as ovid’s miss medea
he puzzled over what he found a new one
but not as yet imagined it could be
thing quite in course, and not at all alarming
which, with a little patience, might grow charming
silent and pensive, idle, restless, slow
his home deserted for the lonely wood
tormented with a wound he could not know
his, like all deep grief, plunged in solitude:
i’m fond myself of solitude or so
but then, i beg it may be understood
by solitude i mean a sultan’s, not
a hermit’s, with a haram for a grot
‘oh love! in such a wilderness as this
where transport and security entwine
here is the empire of thy perfect bliss
and here thou art a god indeed divine.’
the bard i quote from does not sing amiss
with the exception of the second line
for that same twining ‘transport and security’
are twisted to a phrase of some obscurity
the poet meant, no doubt, and thus appeals
to the good sense and senses of mankind
the very thing which every body feels
as all have found on trial, or may find
that no one likes to be disturb’d at meals
or love.—i won’t say more about ‘entwined’
or ‘transport,’ as we knew all that before
but beg ‘security’ will bolt the door
young juan wander’d by the glassy brooks
thinking unutterable things; he threw
himself at length within the leafy nooks
where the wild branch of the cork forest grew;
there poets find materials for their books
and every now and then we read them through
so that their plan and prosody are eligible
unless, like wordsworth, they prove unintelligible
he, juan (and not wordsworth), so pursued
his self~communion with his own high soul
until his mighty heart, in its great mood
had mitigated part, though not the whole
of its disease; he did the best he could
with things not very subject to control
and turn’d, without perceiving his condition
like coleridge, into a metaphysician
he thought about himself, and the whole earth
of man the wonderful, and of the stars
and how the deuce they ever could have birth;
and then he thought of earthquakes, and of wars
how many miles the moon might have in girth
of air~balloons, and of the many bars
to perfect knowledge of the boundless skies;—
and then he thought of donna julia’s eyes
in thoughts like these true wisdom may discern
longings sublime, and aspirations high
which some are born with, but the most part learn
to plague themselves withal, they know not why:
’twas strange that one so young should thus concern
his brain about the action of the sky;
if you think ’twas philosophy that this did
i can’t help thinking p~b~rty assisted
he pored upon the leaves, and on the flowers
and heard a voice in all the winds; and then
he thought of wood~nymphs and immortal bowers
and how the goddesses came down to men:
he miss’d the pathway, he forgot the hours
and when he look’d upon his watch again
he found how much old time had been a winner—
he also found that he had lost his dinner
sometimes he turn’d to gaze upon his book
boscan, or garcilasso;—by the wind
even as the page is rustled while we look
so by the poesy of his own mind
over the mystic leaf his soul was shook
as if ’twere one whereon magicians bind
their spells, and give them to the passing gale
according to some good old woman’s tale
thus would he while his lonely hours away
dissatisfied, nor knowing what he wanted;
nor glowing reverie, nor poet’s lay
could yield his spirit that for which it panted
a bosom whereon he his head might lay
and hear the heart beat with the love it granted
with—several other things, which i forget
or which, at least, i need not mention yet
those lonely walks, and lengthening reveries
could not escape the gentle julia’s eyes;
she saw that juan was not at his ease;
but that which chiefly may, and must surprise
is, that the donna inez did not tease
her only son with question or surmise:
whether it was she did not see, or would not
or, like all very clever people, could not
this may seem strange, but yet ’tis very common;
for instance—gentlemen, whose ladies take
leave to o’erstep the written rights of woman
and break the—which commandment is ’t they break?
(i have forgot the number, and think no man
should rashly quote, for fear of a mistake.)
i say, when these same gentlemen are jealous
they make some blunder, which their ladies tell us
a real husband always is suspicious
but still no less suspects in the wrong place
jealous of some one who had no such wishes
or pandering blindly to his own disgrace
by harbouring some dear friend extremely vicious;
the last indeed ’s infallibly the case:
and when the spouse and friend are gone off wholly
he wonders at their vice, and not his folly
thus parents also are at times short~sighted;
though watchful as the lynx, they ne’er discover
the while the wicked world beholds delighted
young hopeful’s mistress, or miss f~nny’s lover
till some confounded escapade has blighted
the plan of twenty years, and all is over;
and then the mother cries, the father swears
and wonders why the devil he got heirs
but inez was so anxious, and so clear
of sight, that i must think, on this occasion
she had some other motive much more near
for leaving juan to this new temptation;
but what that motive was, i sha’n’t say here;
perhaps to finish juan’s education
perhaps to open don alfonso’s eyes
in case he thought his wife too great a prize
it was upon a day, a summer’s day.—
summer’s indeed a very dangerous season
and so is spring about the end of may;
the sun, no doubt, is the prevailing reason;
but whatsoe’er the cause is, one may say
and stand convicted of more truth than treason
that there are months which nature grows more merry in,—
march has its hares, and may must have its heroine
’twas on a summer’s day—the sixth of june:—
i like to be particular in dates
not only of the age, and year, but moon;
they are a sort of post~house, where the fates
change horses, making history change its tune
then spur away o’er empires and o’er states
leaving at last not much besides chronology
excepting the post~obits of theology
’twas on the sixth of june, about the hour
of half~past six—perhaps still nearer seven—
when julia sate within as pretty a bower
as e’er held houri in that heathenish heaven
described by mahomet, and anacreon moore
to whom the lyre and laurels have been given
with all the trophies of triumphant song—
he won them well, and may he wear them long!
she sate, but not alone; i know not well
how this same interview had taken place
and even if i knew, i should not tell—
people should hold their tongues in any case;
no matter how or why the thing befell
but there were she and juan, face to face—
when two such faces are so, ’twould be wise
but very difficult, to shut their eyes
how beautiful she look’d! her conscious heart
glow’d in her cheek, and yet she felt no wrong
o love! how perfect is thy mystic art
strengthening the weak, and trampling on the strong
how self~deceitful is the sagest part
of mortals whom thy lure hath led along—
the precipice she stood on was immense
so was her creed in her own innocence
she thought of her own strength, and juan’s youth
and of the folly of all prudish fears
victorious virtue, and domestic truth
and then of don alfonso’s fifty years:
i wish these last had not occurr’d, in sooth
because that number rarely much endears
and through all climes, the snowy and the sunny
sounds ill in love, whate’er it may in money
when people say, ‘i’ve told you fifty times,’
they mean to scold, and very often do;
when poets say, ‘i’ve written fifty rhymes,’
they make you dread that they’ll recite them too;
in gangs of fifty, thieves commit their crimes;
at fifty love for love is rare, ’tis true
but then, no doubt, it equally as true is
a good deal may be bought for fifty louis
julia had honour, virtue, truth, and love
for don alfonso; and she inly swore
by all the vows below to powers above
she never would disgrace the ring she wore
nor leave a wish which wisdom might reprove;
and while she ponder’d this, besides much more
one hand on juan’s carelessly was thrown
quite by mistake—she thought it was her own;
unconsciously she lean’d upon the other
which play’d within the tangles of her hair:
and to contend with thoughts she could not smother
she seem’d by the distraction of her air
’twas surely very wrong in juan’s mother
to leave together this imprudent pair
she who for many years had watch’d her son so—
i’m very certain mine would not have done so
the hand which still held juan’s, by degrees
gently, but palpably confirm’d its grasp
as if it said, ‘detain me, if you please;’
yet there’s no doubt she only meant to clasp
his fingers with a pure platonic squeeze:
she would have shrunk as from a toad, or asp
had she imagined such a thing could rouse
a feeling dangerous to a prudent spouse
i cannot know what juan thought of this
but what he did, is much what you would do;
his young lip thank’d it with a grateful kiss
and then, abash’d at its own joy, withdrew
in deep despair, lest he had done amiss,—
love is so very timid when ’tis new:
she blush’d, and frown’d not, but she strove to speak
and held her tongue, her voice was grown so weak
the sun set, and up rose the yellow moon:
the devil ’s in the moon for mischief; they
who call’d her chaste, methinks, began too soon
their nomenclature; there is not a day
the longest, not the twenty~first of june
sees half the business in a wicked way
on which three single hours of moonshine smile—
and then she looks so modest all the while
there is a dangerous silence in that hour
a stillness, which leaves room for the full soul
to open all itself, without the power
of calling wholly back its self~control;
the silver light which, hallowing tree and tower
sheds beauty and deep softness o’er the whole
breathes also to the heart, and o’er it throws
a loving languor, which is not repose
and julia sate with juan, half embraced
and half retiring from the glowing arm
which trembled like the bosom where ’twas placed;
yet still she must have thought there was no harm
or else ’twere easy to withdraw her waist;
but then the situation had its charm
and then—god knows what next—i can’t go on;
i’m almost sorry that i e’er begun
o plato! plato! you have paved the way
with your confounded fantasies, to more
immoral conduct by the fancied sway
your system feigns o’er the controulless core
of human hearts, than all the long array
of poets and romancers:—you’re a bore
a charlatan, a coxcomb—and have been
at best, no better than a go~between
and julia’s voice was lost, except in sighs
until too late for useful conversation;
the tears were gushing from her gentle eyes
i wish indeed they had not had occasion
but who, alas! can love, and then be wise?
not that remorse did not oppose temptation;
a little still she strove, and much repented
and whispering ‘i will ne’er consent’—consented
’tis said that xerxes offer’d a reward
to those who could invent him a new pleasure:
methinks the requisition ’s rather hard
and must have cost his majesty a treasure:
for my part, i’m a moderate~minded bard
fond of a little love (which i call leisure);
i care not for new pleasures, as the old
are quite enough for me, so they but hold
o pleasure! you are indeed a pleasant thing
although one must be d~mn’d for you, no doubt:
i make a resolution every spring
of reformation, ere the year run out
but somehow, this my vestal vow takes wing
yet still, i trust it may be kept throughout:
i’m very sorry, very much ashamed
and mean, next winter, to be quite reclaim’d
here my chaste muse a liberty must take—
start not! still chaster reader—she’ll be nice hence—
forward, and there is no great cause to quake;
this liberty is a poetic licence
which some irregularity may make
in the design, and as i have a high sense
of aristotle and the rules, ’tis fit
to beg his pardon when i err a bit
this licence is to hope the reader will
suppose from june the sixth (the fatal day
without whose epoch my poetic sk!ll
for want of facts would all be thrown away)
but keeping julia and don juan still
in sight, that several months have pass’d; we’ll say
’twas in november, but i’m not so sure
about the day—the era ’s more obscure
we’ll talk of that anon.—’tis sweet to hear
at midnight on the blue and moonlit deep
the song and oar of adria’s gondolier
by distance mellow’d, o’er the waters sweep;
’tis sweet to see the evening star appear;
’tis sweet to listen as the night~winds creep
from leaf to leaf; ’tis sweet to view on high
the rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky
’tis sweet to hear the watch~dog’s honest bark
bay deep~mouth’d welcome as we draw near home;
’tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark
our coming, and look brighter when we come;
’tis sweet to be awaken’d by the lark
or lull’d by falling waters; sweet the hum
of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds
the lisp of children, and their earliest words
sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapes
in bacch~n~l profusion reel to earth
purple and gushing: sweet are our escapes
from civic revelry to rural mirth;
sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps
sweet to the father is his first~born’s birth
sweet is revenge—especially to women
pillage to soldiers, prize~money to seamen
sweet is a legacy, and passing sweet
the unexpected death of some old lady
or gentleman of seventy years complete
who’ve made ‘us youth’ wait too—too long already
for an estate, or cash, or country seat
still breaking, but with stamina so steady
that all the israelites are fit to mob its
next owner for their double~d~mn’d post~obits
’tis sweet to win, no matter how, one’s laurels
by blood or ink; ’tis sweet to put an end
to strife; ’tis sometimes sweet to have our quarrels
particularly with a tiresome friend:
sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels;
dear is the helpless creature we defend
against the world; and dear the schoolboy spot
we ne’er forget, though there we are forgot
but sweeter still than this, than these, than all
is first and passionate love—it stands alone
like adam’s recollection of his fall;
the tree of knowledge has been pluck’d—all ’s known—
and life yields nothing further to recall
worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown
no doubt in fable, as the unforgiven
fire which prometheus filch’d for us from heaven
man ’s a strange animal, and makes strange use
of his own nature, and the various arts
and likes particularly to produce
some new experiment to show his parts;
this is the age of oddities let loose
where different talents find their different marts;
you’d best begin with truth, and when you’ve lost your
labour, there’s a sure market for imposture
what opposite discoveries we have seen!
(signs of true g~nius, and of empty pockets.)
one makes new noses, one a guillotine
one breaks your bones, one sets them in their sockets;
but vaccination certainly has been
a kind antithesis to congreve’s rockets
with which the doctor paid off an old pox
by borrowing a new one from an ox
bread has been made (indifferent) from potatoes;
and galvanism has set some corpses grinning
but has not answer’d like the apparatus
of the humane society’s beginning
by which men are unsuffocated gratis:
what wondrous new machines have late been spinning!
i said the small~pox has gone out of late;
perhaps it may be follow’d by the great
’tis said the great came from america;
perhaps it may set out on its return,—
the population there so spreads, they say
’tis grown high time to thin it in its turn
with war, or plague, or famine, any way
so that civilisation they may learn;
and which in ravage the more loathsome evil is—
their real lues, or our pseudo~syphilis?
this is the patent~age of new inventions
for k!lling bodies, and for saving souls
all propagated with the best intentions;
sir humphry davy’s lantern, by which coals
are safely mined for in the mode he mentions
tombuctoo travels, voyages to the poles
are ways to benefit mankind, as true
perhaps, as shooting them at waterloo
man ’s a phenomenon, one knows not what
and wonderful beyond all wondrous measure;
’tis pity though, in this sublime world, that
pleasure ’s a sin, and sometimes sin ’s a pleasure;
few mortals know what end they would be at
but whether glory, power, or love, or treasure
the path is through perplexing ways, and when
the goal is gain’d, we die, you know—and then—
what then?—i do not know, no more do you—
and so good night.—return we to our story:
’twas in november, when fine days are few
and the far mountains wax a little h~~ry
and clap a white cape on their mantles blue;
and the sea dashes round the promontory
and the loud breaker boils against the rock
and sober suns must set at five o’clock
’twas, as the watchmen say, a cloudy night;
no moon, no stars, the wind was low or loud
by gusts, and many a sparkling hearth was bright
with the piled wood, round which the family crowd;
there’s something cheerful in that sort of light
even as a summer sky ’s without a cloud:
i’m fond of fire, and crickets, and all that
a lobster salad, and champagne, and chat
’twas midnight—donna julia was in bed
sleeping, most probably,—when at her door
arose a clatter might awake the dead
if they had never been awoke before
and that they have been so we all have read
and are to be so, at the least, once more.—
the door was fasten’d, but with voice and fist
first knocks were heard, then ‘madam—madam—hist!
‘for god’s sake, madam—madam—here’s my master
with more than half the city at his back—
was ever heard of such a curst disaster!
’tis not my fault—i kept good watch—alack!
do pray undo the bolt a little faster—
they’re on the stair just now, and in a crack
will all be here; perhaps he yet may fly—
surely the window ’s not so very high!’
by this time don alfonso was arrived
with torches, friends, and servants in great number;
the major part of them had long been wived
and therefore paused not to disturb the slumber
of any wicked woman, who contrived
by stealth her husband’s temples to encumber:
examples of this kind are so contagious
were one not punish’d, all would be outrageous
i can’t tell how, or why, or what suspicion
could enter into don alfonso’s head;
but for a cavalier of his condition
it surely was exceedingly ill~bred
without a word of previous admonition
to hold a levee round his lady’s bed
and summon lackeys, arm’d with fire and sword
to prove himself the thing he most abhorr’d
poor donna julia, starting as from sleep
(mind—that i do not say—she had not slept)
began at once to scream, and yawn, and weep;
her maid antonia, who was an adept
contrived to fling the bed~clothes in a heap
as if she had just now from out them crept:
i can’t tell why she should take all this trouble
to prove her mistress had been sleeping double
but julia mistress, and antonia maid
appear’d like two poor harmless women, who
of goblins, but still more of men afraid
had thought one man might be deterr’d by two
and therefore side by side were gently laid
until the hours of absence should run through
and truant husband should return, and say
‘my dear, i was the first who came away.’
now julia found at length a voice, and cried
‘in heaven’s name, don alfonso, what d’ ye mean?
has madness seized you? would that i had died
ere such a monster’s victim i had been!
what may this midnight violence betide
a sudden fit of drunkenness or spleen?
dare you suspect me, whom the thought would k!ll?
search, then, the room!’—alfonso said, ‘i will.’
he search’d, they search’d, and rummaged everywhere
closet and clothes’ press, chest and window~seat
and found much linen, lace, and several pair
of stockings, slippers, brushes, combs, complete
with other articles of ladies fair
to keep them beautiful, or leave them neat:
arras they pr~ck’d and curtains with their swords
and wounded several shutters, and some boards
under the bed they search’d, and there they found—
no matter what—it was not that they sought;
they open’d windows, gazing if the ground
had signs or footmarks, but the earth said nought;
and then they stared each other’s faces round:
’tis odd, not one of all these seekers thought
and seems to me almost a sort of blunder
of looking in the bed as well as under
during this inquisition, julia’s tongue
was not asleep—‘yes, search and search,’ she cried
‘insult on insult heap, and wrong on wrong!
it was for this that i became a bride!
for this in silence i have suffer’d long
a husband like alfonso at my side;
but now i’ll bear no more, nor here remain
if there be law or lawyers in all spain
‘yes, don alfonso! husband now no more
if ever you indeed deserved the name
is ’t worthy of your years?—you have threescore—
fifty, or sixty, it is all the same—
is ’t wise or fitting, causeless to explore
for facts against a virtuous woman’s fame?
ungrateful, perjured, barbarous don alfonso
how dare you think your lady would go on so?
‘is it for this i have disdain’d to hold
the common privileges of my s~x?
that i have chosen a confessor so old
and deaf, that any other it would vex
and never once he has had cause to scold
but found my very innocence perplex
so much, he always doubted i was married—
how sorry you will be when i’ve miscarried!
‘was it for this that no cortejo e’er
i yet have chosen from out the youth of seville?
is it for this i scarce went anywhere
except to bull~fights, mass, play, rout, and revel?
is it for this, whate’er my suitors were
i favor’d none—nay, was almost uncivil?
is it for this that general count o’reilly
who took algiers, declares i used him vilely?
‘did not the italian musico cazzani
sing at my heart six months at least in vain?
did not his countryman, count corniani
call me the only virtuous wife in spain?
were there not also russians, english, many?
the count strongstroganoff i put in pain
and lord mount coffeehouse, the irish peer
who k!ll’d himself for love (with wine) last year
‘have i not had two bishops at my feet
the duke of ichar, and don fernan nunez?
and is it thus a faithful wife you treat?
i wonder in what quarter now the moon is:
i praise your vast forbearance not to beat
me also, since the time so opportune is—
o, valiant man! with sword drawn and c~ck’d trigger
now, tell me, don’t you cut a pretty figure?
‘was it for this you took your sudden journey
under pretence of business indispensable
with that sublime of rascals your attorney
whom i see standing there, and looking sensible
of having play’d the fool? though both i spurn, he
deserves the worst, his conduct ’s less defensible
because, no doubt, ’twas for his dirty fee
and not from any love to you nor me
‘if he comes here to take a deposition
by all means let the gentleman proceed;
you’ve made the apartment in a fit condition:
there’s pen and ink for you, sir, when you need—
let every thing be noted with precision
i would not you for nothing should be fee’d—
but, as my maid ’s undrest, pray turn your spies out.’
‘oh!’ sobb’d antonia, ‘i could tear their eyes out.’
‘there is the closet, there the toilet, there
the antechamber—search them under, over;
there is the sofa, there the great arm~chair
the chimney—which would really hold a lover
i wish to sleep, and beg you will take care
and make no further noise, till you discover
the secret cavern of this lurking treasure—
and when ’tis found, let me, too, have that pleasure
‘and now, hidalgo! now that you have thrown
doubt upon me, confusion over all
pray have the courtesy to make it known
who is the man you search for? how d’ ye cal
him? what ’s his lineage? let him but be shown—
i hope he ’s young and handsome—is he tall?
tell me—and be assured, that since you stain
my honour thus, it shall not be in vain
‘at least, perhaps, he has not sixty years
at that age he would be too old for slaughter
or for so young a husband’s jealous fears
(antonia! let me have a glass of water)
i am ashamed of having shed these tears
they are unworthy of my father’s daughter;
my mother dream’d not in my natal hour
that i should fall into a monster’s power
‘perhaps ’tis of antonia you are jealous
you saw that she was sleeping by my side
when you broke in upon us with your fellows:
look where you please—we’ve nothing, sir, to hide;
only another time, i trust, you’ll tell us
or for the sake of decency abide
a moment at the door, that we may be
drest to receive so much good company
‘and now, sir, i have done, and say no more;
the little i have said may serve to show
the guileless heart in silence may grieve o’er
the wrongs to whose exposure it is slow:
i leave you to your conscience as before
’twill one day ask you why you used me so?
god grant you feel not then the bitterest grief!—
antonia! where’s my pocket~handkerchief?’
she ceased, and turn’d upon her pillow; pale
she lay, her dark eyes flashing through their tears
like skies that rain and lighten; as a veil
waved and o’ershading her wan cheek, appears
her streaming hair; the black curls strive, but fail
to hide the glossy shoulder, which uprears
its snow through all;—her soft lips lie apart
and louder than her breathing beats her heart
the senhor don alfonso stood confused;
antonia bustled round the ransack’d room
and, turning up her nose, with looks abused
her master and his myrmidons, of whom
not one, except the attorney, was amused;
he, like achates, faithful to the tomb
so there were quarrels, cared not for the cause
knowing they must be settled by the laws
with prying snub~nose, and small eyes, he stood
following antonia’s motions here and there
with much suspicion in his attitude;
for reputations he had little care;
so that a suit or action were made good
small pity had he for the young and fair
and ne’er believed in negatives, till these
were proved by competent false witnesses
but don alfonso stood with downcast looks
and, truth to say, he made a foolish figure;
when, after searching in five hundred nooks
and treating a young wife with so much rigour
he gain’d no point, except some self~rebukes
added to those his lady with such vigour
had pour’d upon him for the last half~hour
quick, thick, and heavy—as a thunder~shower
at first he tried to hammer an excuse
to which the sole reply was tears and sobs
and indications of hysterics, whose
prologue is always certain throes, and throbs
gasps, and whatever else the owners choose:
alfonso saw his wife, and thought of job’s;
he saw too, in perspective, her relations
and then he tried to muster all his patience
he stood in act to speak, or rather stammer
but sage antonia cut him short before
the anvil of his speech received the hammer
with ‘pray, sir, leave the room, and say no more
or madam dies.’—alfonso mutter’d, ‘d—n her,’
but nothing else, the time of words was o’er;
he cast a rueful look or two, and did
he knew not wherefore, that which he was bid
with him retired his ‘posse comitatus,’
the attorney last, who linger’d near the door
reluctantly, still tarrying there as late as
antonia let him—not a little sore
at this most strange and unexplain’d ‘hiatus’
in don alfonso’s facts, which just now wore
an awkward look; as he revolved the case
the door was fasten’d in his legal face
no sooner was it bolted, than—oh shame!
o sin! oh sorrow! and oh womankind!
how can you do such things and keep your fame
unless this world, and t’ other too, be blind?
nothing so dear as an unfilch’d good name!
but to proceed—for there is more behind:
with much heartfelt reluctance be it said
young juan slipp’d half~smother’d, from the bed
he had been hid—i don’t pretend to say
how, nor can i indeed describe the where—
young, slender, and pack’d easily, he lay
no doubt, in little compass, round or square;
but pity him i neither must nor may
his suffocation by that pretty pair;
’twere better, sure, to die so, than be shut
with maudlin clarence in his malmsey b~tt
and, secondly, i pity not, because
he had no business to commit a sin
forbid by heavenly, fined by human laws
at least ’twas rather early to begin;
but at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws
so much as when we call our old debts in
at sixty years, and draw the accompts of evil
and find a deuced balance with the devil
of his position i can give no notion:
’tis written in the hebrew chronicle
how the physicians, leaving pill and potion
prescribed, by way of blister, a young belle
when old king david’s blood grew dull in motion
and that the medicine answer’d very well;
perhaps ’twas in a different way applied
for david lived, but juan nearly died
what ’s to be done? alfonso will be back
the moment he has sent his fools away
antonia’s sk!ll was put upon the rack
but no device could be brought into play—
and how to parry the renew’d attack?
besides, it wanted but few hours of day:
antonia puzzled; julia did not speak
but press’d her bloodless lip to juan’s cheek
he turn’d his lip to hers, and with his hand
call’d back the tangles of her wandering hair;
even then their love they could not all command
and half forgot their danger and despair:
antonia’s patience now was at a stand—
‘come, come, ’tis no time now for fooling there,’
she whisper’d, in great wrath—‘i must deposit
this pretty gentleman within the closet:
‘pray, keep your nonsense for some luckier night—
who can have put my master in this mood?
what will become on ’t—i’m in such a fright
the devil ’s in the urchin, and no good—
is this a time for giggling? this a plight?
why, don’t you know that it may end in blood?
you’ll lose your life, and i shall lose my place
my mistress all, for that half~girlish face
‘had it but been for a stout cavalier
of twenty~five or thirty (come, make haste)—
but for a child, what piece of work is here!
i really, madam, wonder at your taste
(come, sir, get in)—my master must be near:
there, for the present, at the least, he’s fast
and if we can but till the morning keep
our counsel—(juan, mind, you must not sleep).’
now, don alfonso entering, but alone
closed the oration of the trusty maid:
she loiter’d, and he told her to be gone
an order somewhat sullenly obey’d;
however, present remedy was none
and no great good seem’d answer’d if she stay’d:
regarding both with slow and sidelong view
she snuff’d the candle, curtsied, and withdrew
alfonso paused a minute—then begun
some strange excuses for his late proceeding;
he would not justify what he had done
to say the best, it was extreme ill~breeding;
but there were ample reasons for it, none
of which he specified in this his pleading:
his speech was a fine sample, on the whole
of rhetoric, which the learn’d call ‘rigmarole.’
julia said nought; though all the while there rose
a ready answer, which at once enables
a matron, who her husband’s foible knows
by a few timely words to turn the tables
which, if it does not silence, still must pose,—
even if it should comprise a pack of fables;
’tis to retort with firmness, and when he
suspects with one, do you reproach with three
julia, in fact, had tolerable grounds,—
alfonso’s loves with inez were well known
but whether ’twas that one’s own guilt confounds—
but that can’t be, as has been often shown
a lady with apologies abounds;—
it might be that her silence sprang alone
from delicacy to don juan’s ear
to whom she knew his mother’s fame was dear
there might be one more motive, which makes two;
alfonso ne’er to juan had alluded,—
mention’d his jealousy but never who
had been the happy lover, he concluded
conceal’d amongst his premises; ’tis true
his mind the more o’er this its mystery brooded;
to speak of inez now were, one may say
like throwing juan in alfonso’s way
a hint, in tender cases, is enough;
silence is best, besides there is a tact
(that modern phrase appears to me sad stuff
but it will serve to keep my verse compact)—
which keeps, when push’d by questions rather rough
a lady always distant from the fact:
the charming creatures lie with such a grace
there’s nothing so becoming to the face
they blush, and we believe them; at least i
have always done so; ’tis of no great use
in any case, attempting a reply
for then their eloquence grows quite profuse;
and when at length they’re out of breath, they sigh
and cast their languid eyes down, and let loose
a tear or two, and then we make it up;
and then—and then—and then—sit down and sup
alfonso closed his speech, and begg’d her pardon
which julia half withheld, and then half granted
and laid conditions he thought very hard on
denying several little things he wanted:
he stood like adam lingering near his garden
with useless penitence perplex’d and haunted
beseeching she no further would refuse
when, lo! he stumbled o’er a pair of shoes
a pair of shoes!—what then? not much, if they
are such as fit with ladies’ feet, but these
(no one can tell how much i grieve to say)
were masculine; to see them, and to seize
was but a moment’s act.—ah! well~a~day!
my t~~th begin to chatter, my veins freeze—
alfonso first examined well their fashion
and then flew out into another passion
he left the room for his relinquish’d sword
and julia instant to the closet flew
‘fly, juan, fly! for heaven’s sake—not a word—
the door is open—you may yet slip through
the passage you so often have explored—
here is the garden~key—fly—fly—adieu!
haste—haste! i hear alfonso’s hurrying feet—
day has not broke—there’s no one in the street:
none can say that this was not good advice
the only mischief was, it came too late;
of all experience ’tis the usual price
a sort of income~tax laid on by fate:
juan had reach’d the room~door in a. trice
and might have done so by the garden~gate
but met alfonso in his dressing~gown
who threaten’d death—so juan knock’d him down
dire was the scuffle, and out went the light;
antonia cried out ‘rape!’ and julia ‘fire!’
but not a servant stirr’d to aid the fight
alfonso, pommell’d to his heart’s desire
swore l~stily he’d be revenged this night;
and juan, too, blasphemed an octave higher;
his blood was up: though young, he was a tartar
and not at all disposed to prove a martyr
alfonso’s sword had dropp’d ere he could draw it
and they continued battling hand to hand
for juan very luckily ne’er saw it;
his temper not being under great command
if at that moment he had chanced to claw it
alfonso’s days had not been in the land
much longer.—think of husbands’, lovers’ lives!
and how ye may be doubly widows—wives!
alfonso grappled to detain the foe
and juan throttled him to get away
and blood (’twas from the nose) began to flow;
at last, as they more faintly wrestling lay
juan contrived to give an awkward blow
and then his only garment quite gave way;
he fled, like joseph, leaving it; but there
i doubt, all likeness ends between the pair
lights came at length, and men, and maids, who found
an awkward spectacle their eyes before;
antonia in hysterics, julia swoon’d
alfonso leaning, breathless, by the door;
some half~torn drapery scatter’d on the ground
some blood, and several footsteps, but no more:
juan the gate gain’d, turn’d the key about
and liking not the inside, lock’d the out
here ends this canto.—need i sing, or say
how juan naked, favour’d by the night
who favours what she should not, found his way
and reach’d his home in an unseemly plight?
the pleasant scandal which arose next day
the nine days’ wonder which was brought to light
and how alfonso sued for a divorce
were in the english newspapers, of course
if you would like to see the whole proceedings
the depositions, and the cause at full
the names of all the witnesses, the pleadings
of counsel to nonsuit, or to annul
there’s more than one edition, and the readings
are various, but they none of them are dull;
the best is that in short~hand ta’en by gurney
who to madrid on purpose made a journey
but donna inez, to divert the train
of one of the most circulating scandals
that had for centuries been known in spain
at least since the retirement of the vandals
first vow’d (and never had she vow’d in vain)
to virgin mary several pounds of candles;
and then, by the advice of some old ladies
she sent her son to be shipp’d off from cadiz
she had resolved that he should travel through
all european climes, by land or sea
to mend his former morals, and get new
especially in france and italy
(at least this is the thing most people do)
julia was sent into a convent: she
grieved, but, perhaps, her feelings may be better
shown in the following copy of her letter:—
‘they tell me ’tis decided; you depart:
’tis wise—’tis well, but not the less a pain;
i have no further claim on your young heart
mine is the victim, and would be again;
to love too much has been the only art
i used;—i write in haste, and if a stain
be on this sheet, ’tis not what it appears;
my eyeb~lls burn and throb, but have no tears
‘i loved, i love you, for this love have lost
state, station, heaven, mankind’s, my own esteem
and yet can not regret what it hath cost
so dear is still the memory of that dream;
yet, if i name my guilt, ’tis not to boast
none can deem harshlier of me than i deem:
i trace this scrawl because i cannot rest—
i’ve nothing to reproach, or to request
‘man’s love is of man’s life a thing apart
’tis woman’s whole existence; man may range
the court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart;
sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange
pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart
and few there are whom these cannot estrange;
men have all these resources, we but one
to love again, and be again undone
‘you will proceed in pleasure, and in pride
beloved and loving many; all is o’er
for me on earth, except some years to hide
my shame and sorrow deep in my heart’s core;
these i could bear, but cannot cast aside
the passion which still rages as before—
and so farewell—forgive me, love me—no
that word is idle now—but let it go
‘my breast has been all weakness, is so yet;
but still i think i can collect my mind;
my blood still rushes where my spirit ’s set
as roll the waves before the settled wind;
my heart is feminine, nor can forget—
to all, except one image, madly blind;
so shakes the needle, and so stands the pole
as vibrates my fond heart to my fix’d soul
‘i have no more to say, but linger still
and dare not set my seal upon this sheet
and yet i may as well the task fulfil
my misery can scarce be more complete:
i had not lived till now, could sorrow k!ll;
death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet
and i must even survive this last adieu
and bear with life, to love and pray for you!’
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