---

Скачать книгу

---

      For some of these are rocks with scarce a hut on;

      Others are fair and fertile, among which

      This, though not large, was one of the most rich.

      I say that beef is rare, and can't help thinking

      That the old fable of the Minotaur—

      From which our modern morals rightly shrinking

      Condemn the royal lady's taste who wore

      A cow's shape for a mask—was only (sinking

      The allegory) a mere type, no more,

      That Pasiphae promoted breeding cattle,

      To make the Cretans bloodier in battle.

      For we all know that English people are

      Fed upon beef—I won't say much of beer,

      Because 't is liquor only, and being far

      From this my subject, has no business here;

      We know, too, they very fond of war,

      A pleasure—like all pleasures—rather dear;

      So were the Cretans—from which I infer

      That beef and battles both were owing to her.

      But to resume. The languid Juan raised

      His head upon his elbow, and he saw

      A sight on which he had not lately gazed,

      As all his latter meals had been quite raw,

      Three or four things, for which the Lord he praised,

      And, feeling still the famish'd vulture gnaw,

      He fell upon whate'er was offer'd, like

      A priest, a shark, an alderman, or pike.

      He ate, and he was well supplied: and she,

      Who watch'd him like a mother, would have fed

      Him past all bounds, because she smiled to see

      Such appetite in one she had deem'd dead;

      But Zoe, being older than Haidee,

      Knew (by tradition, for she ne'er had read)

      That famish'd people must be slowly nurst,

      And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst.

      And so she took the liberty to state,

      Rather by deeds than words, because the case

      Was urgent, that the gentleman, whose fate

      Had made her mistress quit her bed to trace

      The sea-shore at this hour, must leave his plate,

      Unless he wish'd to die upon the place—

      She snatch'd it, and refused another morsel,

      Saying, he had gorged enough to make a horse ill.

      Next they—he being naked, save a tatter'd

      Pair of scarce decent trowsers—went to work,

      And in the fire his recent rags they scatter'd,

      And dress'd him, for the present, like a Turk,

      Or Greek—that is, although it not much matter'd,

      Omitting turban, slippers, pistols, dirk,—

      They furnish'd him, entire, except some stitches,

      With a clean shirt, and very spacious breeches.

      And then fair Haidee tried her tongue at speaking,

      But not a word could Juan comprehend,

      Although he listen'd so that the young Greek in

      Her earnestness would ne'er have made an end;

      And, as he interrupted not, went eking

      Her speech out to her protege and friend,

      Till pausing at the last her breath to take,

      She saw he did not understand Romaic.

      And then she had recourse to nods, and signs,

      And smiles, and sparkles of the speaking eye,

      And read (the only book she could) the lines

      Of his fair face, and found, by sympathy,

      The answer eloquent, where soul shines

      And darts in one quick glance a long reply;

      And thus in every look she saw exprest

      A world of words, and things at which she guess'd.

      And now, by dint of fingers and of eyes,

      And words repeated after her, he took

      A lesson in her tongue; but by surmise,

      No doubt, less of her language than her look:

      As he who studies fervently the skies

      Turns oftener to the stars than to his book,

      Thus Juan learn'd his alpha beta better

      From Haidee's glance than any graven letter.

      'T is pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue

      By female lips and eyes—that is, I mean,

      When both the teacher and the taught are young,

      As was the case, at least, where I have been;

      They smile so when one 's right, and when one 's wrong

      They smile still more, and then there intervene

      Pressure of hands, perhaps even a chaste kiss;—

      I learn'd the little that I know by this:

      That is, some words of Spanish, Turk, and Greek,

      Italian not at all, having no teachers;

      Much English I cannot pretend to speak,

      Learning that language chiefly from its preachers,

      Barrow, South, Tillotson, whom every week

      I study, also Blair, the highest reachers

      Of eloquence in piety and prose—

      I hate your poets, so read none of those.

      As for the ladies, I have nought to say,

      A wanderer from the British world of fashion,

      Where I, like other 'dogs, have had my day,'

      Like other men, too, may have had my passion—

      But that, like other things, has pass'd away,

      And all her fools whom I could lay the lash on:

      Foes, friends, men, women, now are nought to me

      But dreams of what has been, no more to be.

      Return we to Don Juan. He begun

      To hear new words, and to repeat them; but

      Some feelings, universal as the sun,

      Were such as could not in his breast be shut

      More than within the bosom of a nun:

      He was in love,—as you would be, no doubt,

      With a young benefactress,—so was she,

      Just in the way we very often see.

      And every

---

Скачать книгу