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I know not why, but in that hour to-night,

Even as they gazed, a sudden tremor came,
And swept, as 'I were, across their hearts' delight,

Like the wind o'er a harp-string, or a flame, When one is shook in sound, and one in sight;

And thus some boding tlash'd through either frame,
And call'd from Juan's breast a faint low sich,
While one new tear arose io Haidee's eye.

That Jarge black prophet eye seem'd to dilate

And follow far the disappearing sun,
As if their last day of a happy date

With his broad, bright, and dropping orb were gone. Juan gazed on her as to ask his fate

He felt a grief, but knowing cause for none,
His glance inquired of hers for some excuse
For feelings causeless, or at least abstruse.

She turn'd to him, and smiled, but in that sort

Which makes not others smile; thea turn'd aside : Whatever feeling shook ber, it seemd short,

And master'd by her wisdom or her pride. When Juan spoke, too-it might be in sport

Of this their mutual feeling, she replied-
« If it should be so,-bul-it cannot be-
Or I at least shall not survive to see..

Juan would question further, but she press'd

Ilis lips to hers, and silenced him with this,
And then dismiss'd the omen from her breast,

Defying augury with that fond kiss;
And no doubt of all methods 't is the best :

Some people prefer wide-t is not amiss :
I have tried both; so those who would a part take
May chuse between the lieadache and the heartache.

One of the two, according to your choice,

Women or wine, you 'll have to undergo;
Both maladies are taxes on our joys:

But which to chuse I really hardly know; And if I had to give a casting voice,

For both sides I could many reasons slow, And then decide, without great wrong to either, li were much better to have both than neither.

Juan and Haidee gazed upon each other,

With swimming lonks of speechless tenderness, Which mixd all feelings, friend, child, Jover, brother,

All that the best can mingle and express,
When iwo pure hearts are pour'd in one another,

And love too much, and yet cau pot love less,
But almost sanctify the sweet excess
By the immortal wish and power to bless.

Mix'd in each other's arms, and heart in heart,

Why did they not then die !--they had lived too long, Should an hour come to bid them breathe apart ;

Ycars could but bring them cruel things or wrong. The world was not for them, nor the world's art

For beings passionate as Sapphio's song: Love was born with thein, in them, so intense, ! li was their very spirit-not a sense.

They should have lived together deep in woods,

Unseen as sings the nightingale; they were
Cnfit to mix in these thick solitudes

Called social, where all vice and hatred are: How lonely every freeborn creature broods!

The sweetest song-birds nestle in a pair ; The eagle soars alone; the gull and crow Flock o'er their carrion, just as mortals do.


Now pillow'd, cheek to cheek, in loving sleep,

Haidee and Juan their siesta took ;
A gentle slumber, but it was not decp.

For ever and anon a something shook
Juan, and shudilering o'er his frame would creep ;

And Haidec's sweet lips murmurd, like a brook,
I wordless music; and her face so fair
Stirr'd with her dream, as rose-leaves with the air:

Or as the stirring of a deep clear stream

Within an Alpine hollow, when the wind
Walks over it, was she shaken by the dream,

The mystical usurper of the mindO'erpowering us to be whate'er may seem

Good to the soul which we no more can bind;
Strange state of being! (for 't is still to be)
Senseless to fecl, and with seald eyes to see.

She dreamd of being alone on the sea-shore,

Chain'd to a rock; she knew not how, but stir
Slie could not from the spot, and the loud roar

Grew, and each wave rose roughly, threatening hier; And o'er ber upper lip they seem'd to pour,

Until she sobb'd for breath, and soon they were
Foaming o'er her lone head, so fierce and high
Each broke to drown her, yet she could not die.

Anon—she was released, and then she stray'd

O'er the sharp shingles with her bleeding fect,
And stumbled almost every step she made ;

And something rollid before her in a sheel, Which she must still pursue, howe'er afraid;

”T was white and indistinct, nor stopp'd to meet lier glance nor grasp, for still she gazed and grasp'd, And ran, but it escaped her as she clasp d.

The dream changed : in a cave she stood ; its walls

Were hung with marble icicles; the work
Of ages on its water-frelled balls,
Where waves might wash, and seals might breed and

lurk ; Her hair was dripping, and the very balls

Of her black eyes seein'd turn 'd to tears, and murk The sharp rocks look'd below each drop they caught, Which froze to marble as it feil, she thought.

And wet, and cold, and lifeless at her feet,

Pale as the foam that froth'd on bis dead brow,
Which she essay'd in vain to clear, (how sweet

Were once her cares, how idle seem d they now!) Lay Juan, nor could aught renew the beat

Of his quenchid heart; and the sea-dirges low
Rang in her sad ears like a mermaid's song,
And that brief dream appeard a life 100 long.

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And gazing on the dead, she thought liis face

Faded, or alter'd into something new
Like to her father's features, till each trace

More like and like to Lambro's aspect grow
With all lis keen worn look and Grecian prace;

And starting, she awoke, and what to view! Oh! Powers of licaven! what dark eye mects she there? 'T is-i is her father's-lix'd upon the pair !

Then shrieking, she arose, and shricking fell,

With joy and sorrow, hope and fear, to see
Him whom she deem'd a habitant whicre dwell

The occan-buried, risen from death, to be
Perchance the deadı of one sue loved too well

Dear as her father had been to Ilaidec,
It was a moincut of that awful kind--
I have seen such - but must not call to mind.

Up Juan sprung to Haidee's bitter shiriek,

And caught her falling, and from off the wall
Snatch'd down his sabre, in hot laste to wreak

Vengeance on him who was the cause of all:
Then Lambro, who till now forbore to speak,

Smiled scornfully, and said, “Within
A thousand scimilars await the word;
Put up, young man, put up your silly sword...

And Haidee clung around him : « Juan, 't is-

"T is Lambro-t is my father! Kneel with me lle will forgive us-yes--it must be-yes.

Oh! dearest father, in this agony of pleasure and of pain-oven while I kiss

Thy garments hem with transport, can it be
Thai doubt should mingle with my filial joy?
Deal with me as thou wilt, but spare this boy."

High and inscrutable the old man stood,

Calm in luis voice, auid calm within his eye-
Not always signs with him of calmest mood:

He look'd upon her, but gave no reply;
Then turnid to Juan, in whose cheek the bloord

Oft caine and went, as there resolved to die ;
In arms, at least, be stood, in act to spring
On the first foe whom Lambro's call might bring

iny call

Lambro presented, and one instant more

Had stopp'd this Canto, and Don Juan's breath,
When llaidee threw herself her boy before,

Stern as her sire : « On me,» she cried, « let death Descend-the fault is mine; this fatal shore

He found--but sought not. I have pledged my faith ;
I love him-I will die with him : I knew
Your nature's firmness-kvow your daughter's 100.

A minute past, and she had been all tears,

And tenderness, and infancy: but now
She stood as one who champion'd human fears-

Pale, statue-like, and stero, she wood the blow;
And tall beyond her sex and their compeers,

She drew up to hier height, as if to show
A fairer mark; and with a fixd eye scannd
ller father's face-but never stopp'd his hand.

The gazed on fier, od slie on him; I was strange

llow like they look '! the expression was the same; Serenely savage, with a little change

In the large dark eye's mutual-darted flane;
For lie too was is one who could avenge,

If cause should be-a lioneas, though tame :
Her father's blood before her father's face
Boild up, and proved lier truly of his race.

I said they were alike, their features and

Their stature differing but in sex and years,
Even to the delicacy of their bands

There was resemblance, such as true blood year; And now to see them, thus divided, stand

In fix'd ferocily, when joyous tears,
And sweet sensations, should have welcomed bolh.
Show what the passions are in their full growili.

The father paused a moment, then withdrew

His weapon, und replaced it; but stood still, lod looking ou her, is to look her through,

« Nou I,» he said, « have sought this strangers ill, Not I have made this desolation : few

Would bear such outrage, and forbear to kill ,
But I must do my duty-how thou hast
Done thine, the present vouches for the past

« Let him disarm; or, by my father's licad,

Ilis own shall roll before you like a ball!» lle raised his whistle, as the word he said,

And liew; another auswer'd to the call, Aud rusling in disorderly, thougla led,

And arm'd from boot to turban, one and all,
Some twenty of his train came, rank on rank;
He gave the word, « Irrest or slay the Frank.a

Then, with a sudden movement, he withdrew

His daughter ; while compress'il within his grasp
Twixthur and Juan interposed the crew;

!n vain she struggled in der father's graspillis arms were like a serpent's coil: theu lle'w

l'pon their prey, its darts an angry asp, The lile af pritis; suvelle foremost, who llud fallen, with his right shoulder hulf cut true

Young man, your sword;» so Lambro once more said:

Juan replied, « Not while this arm is free.»
The ol'l man's cheek grew pale, but not with dread;
And, drawing from bis belt a

pistol, le
Replied, i Your blood be then on your own headl!»

Then look it close at the llint, as if to see
"I was freska- for he had lately used the lock-
Aud next proceeded quietly lo cock.

It has a strange quick jor upon the car,
That cocking of a pintol, when you

know Imoment more will bring the sight to bear

Upon your persou, twelve yards off, or so ;
A gentlemanly distance, not too ner,

Il vou luave got a former friend for foe
Putifier boems fired at once or twice,
The par bez omes more list, and less mii

XLIX. The second had his cheek laid


but The third, a wary, cool old sworder, took The blows upon his cutlass, and then put

His own well in : so well, ere you could look, His man was floor'd, and helpless at his foot,

With the blood running like a little brook From two smart sabre gashes, deep and redQue on the arm, the other on the head.

And then they bound him where lie fell, and bore

Juau from the apartment : with a sign
Old Lambro bade them take him to the shore,

Where lay some ships which were to sail at nine. They laid him in a boat, and plied the oar

Until they reach'd some galliots, placed in line; On board of one of these, and under hatches, They stow'd him, with strict orders to the watches.


The world is full of strange vicissitudes,

And here was one exceedingly unpleasant : A gentleman so rich in the world's goods,

Handsome and young, enjoying all the present, Just at the very time when he least broods

Ou such a thing, is suddenly to sea sent,
Wounded and chain'd, so that he cannot move,
And all because a lady fell in love.

Here I must leave him, for I grow pathetic,

Moved by the Chinese nympia of tears, green tea ! Than whom Cassandra was not more prophetic;

For if my pure libations exceed three, I feel my heart become so sympathetic,

That I must have recourse to black Bohea :
*T is pity wine should be so deleterious,
For tea and coffee leave us much more serious.

Caless when qualified with thee, Cognac!

Sweet Naiad of the Phlegethontic rill!
Ah! why the liver wilt thou thus attack,

And make, like other nymplas, thy lovers ill ? I would take refuge in wcak punch, but rack

(In each sense of the word), whene'er I fill My mild and midnight beakers to the brim, Wakes me next morning with its synonym.

I leave Don Juan for the present safe-

Not sound, poor fellow, but severely wounded;
Yet could his corporal pangs amount to half

Of those with which his Haidee's bosom bounded? She was not one to weep, and rave, and chafe,

And then give way, subdued because surrounded;
ller mother was a Moorish maid, from Fez,
Where all is Eden, or a wilderness.

There the large olive rains its amber store

In marble fonts; there grain, and tlower, and fruit, Gushi from the earth until the land ruos o'er;

But there too many a poison-tree has root,
And midnight listens to the lion's roar,

And long, long deserts scorch the camel's foot,
Or beaving whelm the helpless caravan,
Aud as the soil is, so the heart of man.

Afric is all the sun's, and as her earth
Iler human clay is kindled, full of

For good or evil, burning from its birth,

The Moorish blood partakes the planet's hour,
And like the soil beneath it will bring forth:

Beauty and love were Haidee's mother's dower : But her large dark eye show'd deep Passion's force, Though sleeping like a lion pear a source.

Her daughter, temper'd with a milder ray,

Like summer clouds all silvery, smooth, and fair, Till slowly charged with thunder they display

Terror to carth, and tempest to the air, llad held till now her soft and milky way;

But, overwrought with passion and despair,
The fire burst forth from her Numidian veins,
Even as the simoom sweeps the blasted plains.

The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore,

And he himself o'ermaster'd and cut down;
His blood was running on the very floor

Where late he trod, her beautiful, her own : Thus much she view'd an iustant and no more,

Her struggles ceased with one convulsive groan;
On her sire's arın, which until now scarce held
ller writhing, fell she like a cedar felld.

A vein had burst, 2 and her sweet lips' pure dyes

Were dabbled with the deep blood which ran o'er; And her head droop'd as when the lily lies

O'ercharged with rain: ber suminon'd handmaids bore Their lady to her couch with gushing eyes;

Of herbs and cordials they produced their store,
But she defied all means they could employ,
Like one life could not hold, nor death destroy.

Days lay she in that state unchanged, though chill,

With nothing livid, still her lips were red ;
She had no pulse, but death seem'd absent still;

No hideous sign proclaim'd her surely dead;
Corruption came not in each mind to kill

All hope; to look upon her sweet face bred
New thoughts of life, for it seem'd full of soul,
She had so much, earth could pot claim the whole.

The ruling passion, such as marble shows

When exquisitely chisellid, still lay there,
But fix'd as marble's unchanged aspect throws

O'er the fair Venus, but for ever fair;
O'er the Laocoon's all eternal throes,

And ever-dying Gladiator's air,
Their energy like life forms all tbeir fame,
Yet looks not life, for they are still the same.

She woke at length, but not as sleepers wake,

Rather the dead, for life seem'd something new,
A strange sensation which she must partake

Perforce, since whatsoever met hier view Struck not on memory, though a heavy ache

Lay at her heart, whiose earliest beat still true Brought back the sense of pain without the cause, for, for a while, the furies made a pause.

she lay;

She looks on many a face with vacant eye,

Ou mauy a token without knowing what;
She saw them watch her without asking why,

And reckd not who around lier pillow sal; Not speechless though she spoke noc: not a sigh

Rcheved her thoughts; dull silence and quick chat Were tried in vain by those who served; she gave No sigu, save breath, of having left the grave.

LXIV. ller handmaidscended, but she beeded not;

ller father watchid, slie turu'd ber cyes away; She recognised no being, and no spol,

Ilowever dear or cherislid in their day:
They changed from room to room, but all forgot,

Gentle, but without memory,


which they would fain be weaning Back to old thouglas, scemil full of fearful meaning.

At last a slave bothought her of a harp;

The larper came, and tuned bis instrument; do che first notes, irregular and sharp,

On bim her listing eyes a moment bent, Then to the wall she turn'd, as if to warp

ller thoughts from sorrow through her leart re-sent, And he began a long low island song Of unicient days, ere tyranny grew strong.

Anon her thin wan fingers beat the wall

In time to his old lune; le changed the theme, And sun of love, the fierce name struck through all

Uer recollection ; on her tashid the dream
Of what she was, ind is, if

ye could call
To be so being; in a custing stream
The tears rustid forth from loer o'crclouded brain,
Like mountain nists at length dissolved w rain.

Short solice, vain relief!- thought came too quick,

And wirid er brain to madness; she arose
As one who neer hud dwell among the sick,

Un tew at all slie mel, as on her foes;
But no one ever beard er speak or sbriek,

Although her paroxysmi drew towards its close :
Hers wits a frenzy which disdini to rave,
Esou when try smote her, in the hope to sve.

let sbe betray'd at times a gleam of sense;

Norhung could make her meet her father's face, Though on all other things with looks intense

She 3.17d, but none she cver could retrace; Food she refuscel, and ruiment; no pretence

Awild for citier; neither change of place, Nor time, nor skill, uor remedy, coulil

hier Seuse's to sleep--the power seem'd gone for ever.

Twelve days and nights she willier'd thus; at last,

Without a groun, or ili, or glance, to show
prting pany, the spirit froin ber passil:

And they who watched her nearest would not know The very instant, till the change that case

Her weet face into sudow, dull and slow, Glued oer her curs-tie beautiful, the blackOh! to prsins

such utre--and then tack!

She died, but not alone; she held within

A second principle of life, which might
Uave dawnd a fair and sinless child of sin :

But closed its little being without light,
And went down to the grave unborn, wherein

Blossom and bougle lie wither'd with one blight;
In vain the dews of heaven descend above
The bleeding flower and blasted fruit of love.

Thus lived-thus died she; never more on her

Shall sorrow light, or shane. She was not made Through years or moons the inner weight to bear,

Which colder bocarts endure, till they are laid By age in earth; her days and pleasures were

Brief, but delightful—such as had not stay'd
Long with her destiny: but she sleeps well
ly the sea-shore whereon she loved to dwell.

That i-le is now all desolate and bare,

Tis dwellings down, its tenants pass'd away;
Noue but her own and father's grave is there,

And nothing outward tells of human clay: Ye could not know where lies a thing so fair

No stone is there to show, no tongue to say
What was; no dire, except the hollow sea's,
Mouros o'er the beauty of thic Cyclades.

But inany a Greek maid in a loving song

Siglis o'er her name, and many an islander
Wita ber sire's story makes the night less long;

Valour was lois, and beauty dwet with her. If she loved raskily, her life paid for wrong

i bicary price must all pay who tuus err, !n soine stipe; let none think to tly the danger, Tor, soou or late, Love is luis own avenger.

LXXIV. But let me change this theme, which grows too sad,

And lay this sheet of sorrow on the shelf; I don't much like describing people mad,

For fear of coming rather louclid myself-
Besides, I've no more on this lead to add:

And as my Muse is a capricious elf,
We'll put about and try another tack
With Jum, loft balf-hild some stanzas back.

Wounded aud fetter'd, « cabind, cribb'd, confined,

Some days and miglots elapsed before that he
Coull iogether call the past to mind;

And when lie did, he found himself at sea, Sailing six knots an hour before the wind :

The shores of lion lay beneath their leeInother time he miglic bave liked to see 'em, But now was not much pleased with Cape Sigæum.

LXXVI. l'hier, on the green and villase-cotted lill, is

laukid by Hellollespont and by the sca) Income the bravest of the brave, Achilles :

They say so-Bryant says the contrary :)
o urther downward, call and towering, still is

The muus-of whom-leaven kuows! imay k
Patroclus, 11x, or Profesilaus, -
U boccoes who, it living still, would slay us.

High barrows, without marble or a name,

A vast, untillid, and mountain-skirted plain,
And Ida in the distance, still the same,

And old Scarauder (if't is he), remain; The situation seems still form à for fame

A hundred thousaod men might light again
With ease; but where I sought for Ilion's walls,
The quiet sheep feeds, and the tortoise crawls;

Troops of untended horses; bere and there

Some little hamlets withi new names uncouih; Some shepherds (unlike Paris), led to stare

A moment at the European youth Whom to the spot their school-boy feelings bear;

A Turk, with beads in hand and pipe in mouth,
Extremely taken with his owo religion,
Are what I found there, but the devil a Phrygian.

Don Juan, here permitted to emerge

From his dull cabin, found himself a slave;
Forlorn, and gazing on the deep blue surge,

O'ershadow d ibere by many a hero's grave : Weak sull with loss of blood, he scarce could urge

A few brief questious; and the answers gave
No very satisfactory information
About bis past or present situation.

He saw some fellow-captives, who appeard

To be Italians--as they were, in fact;
From them, at least, their destiny he heard,

Which was an odd one; a troop going to act
In Sicily-all singers, duly rear'd

In their vocation, --had not been attack'd,
In sailing from Livorno, by the pirate,
But sold by the impresario at no high rate. 3

By one of these, the buffo of the party,

Juan was told about their curious case;
For, although destined to the Turkish mart, he

Still kept his spirits up--at least his face;
The little fellow really look'd quite hearty,

Aod bore him with some gaiety and grace,
Showing a mucli more recouciled demeanour
Than did the prima donna and the tenor.

In a few words he told their hapless story,

Saying, «Our Machiavelian impresario,
Makng a sigual off some promontory,

Haild a strange brig; Corpo di Caio Mario!
We were transferr'd on board her in a hurry,

Without a single scudo of salario;
But, if the sultau has a taste for song,
We will revive our fortunes before long.

« The prima donna, though a little old,

And haggard with a dissipated life,
And subject, when the house is thin, lo cold,

Hlas some good notes, and then the tenor's wife,
With no great voice, is pleasing to behold;

Last carvival she made a deal of strife,
By carrying off Count Cesar Cicogna
From an old Roman princess at Bologna.

LXXXIV. « And then there are the dancers; there's the Nini,

With more than one profession gains by all;
Then there's that laughing slut, ibe Pellegrini,

She too was fortunate last carnival,
And made at least five bundred good zecchini,

But spends so fast, she has not now a paul:
And then there's the Grotesca —such a dancer!
Where men have souls or bodies she must answer.

« As for the figuranti, they are like

The rest of all that tribe; with here and there
A pretty person, wlicha perhaps may strike,

The rest are hardly fisted for a fair;
There's one, though tall, and stiffer than a pike,

Yet hus a sentimental kind of air,
Which might go far, but she don't dance with vigour;
The more 's the pity, with her face and figure.

LXXXVI. « As for the men, they are a middling set ;

The musico is but a crack'd old basia, But, being qualified in one way yet,

May the seraglio do to set his face in, And as a servant some preferment get;

His singing I no further trust can place in : From all the pope 4 makes yearly, 't would perplex To find three perfect pipes of the third sex.

LXXXVI. « The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,

And for the bass, the beast can only bellow; In fact, he had no singing education,

An ignoranı, noteless, timeless, fupeless fellow; But being the prima donna's dear relation,

Who swore his voice was very rich and mellow, They hired him, though to hear him you 'd believe An ass was practisiog recitative.

LXXXVIII. « 'T would not become myself to dwell upon

My own merits, and thouglı young--I see, sir-you Have got a travell d air, which shows you one

To whom the opera is by no means new: You've heard of Raucocanu?--I'm the man;

The time may come when you may hear me too; You was pot last year at the fair of Lugo, But next, when I'm engaged to sing there-do go.

LXXXIX. «Our barytone I almost had forgot,

A pretty lad, but bursting with conceit; With graceful action, science not a jot,

A voice of no great compass, and not sweet, He always is complaining of his lot,

Forsooth, scarce fit for ballads in the street ; In lovers' paris his passion more to breathe, Having no heart to show, he shows his teeth.»

XC. llere Raucocanti's eloquent recital

Was interrupted by the pirate crew, Who came at stated moments to invite all

The captives back to their sad births; each threw
rueful glance upon the waves (which bright all,

From the blue skies derived a double blue,
Dancing all free and bappy in the sun),
And then went down the hatchway one by one.

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