NOTES TO CANTO THIRD.

Note 1, page 128, stanza xlv.

For none likes more to hear himself converse.
Rispone allor' Margatte, a dir tel tosto,
Io non credo piu al nero ch' all' azzurro ;
Ma nel cappone, o lesso, o vuogli arrosto,
E credo alcuna volta anco nel burro;
Nella cervigia. e quando io n' ho nel mosto,
E molto piu nell' espro che il mangurro;
Ma sopra tutto nel buon vino ho fede,
E credo che sia salvo chi gli crede.
PULCI, Morgante Maggiore, Canto 18, Stanza 151.

Note 2, page 134, stanza lxxi.

That e'er by precious metal was held in,

This dress is Moorish, and the bracelets and bar are worn in the manner described. The reader will perceive hereafter, that as the mother of Haidee was of Fez, her daughter wore the garb of the country.

Note 3, page 135, stanza lxxii,

A like gold bar above her instep roll'd.

The bar of gold above the instep is a mark of sovereign rank in the women of the families of the deys, and is worn as such by their female relatives.

Note 4, page 135, stanza Ixxiii.

Her person if allow'd at large to run.

This is no exaggeration; there were four women whom I remember to have seen, who possessed their hair in this profusion; of these, three were English, the other was a Levantine. Their hair was of that length and quantity, that, when let down, it almost entirely shaded the person, so as nearly to render dress a superfluity. Of these, only one had dark hair; the Oriental's had, perhaps, the lightest colour of the four.

Note 5, page 147, stanza cvii.

Oh Hesperus! thou bringest all good things.

Εσπερε παντα φερεις

Φερεις οινον φερεις αιγα

Φερεις ματερι παιδα.

Fragment of Sappho.

Note 6, page 147, stanza cviii.

Soft hour! which wakes the wish and melts the heart.

"Era gia l' ora che volge 'l disio,

"A naviganti, e 'ntenerisce il cuore ;
"Lo di ch' han detto a' dolci amici a dio ;
"E che lo nuovo peregrin' d' amore
"Punge, se ode Squilla di lontano,

"

Che paia 'l giorno pianger che si muore."
DANTE'S Puargatory, Canto VIII.

This last line is the first of Gray's Elegy, taken by him without acknowledgment.

Note 7, page 147, stanza cix.

Some hands unseen strew'd flowers upon his tomb.
See Suetonius for this fact.

DON JUAN.

CANTO IV.

I.

NOTHING SO difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end;
For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning
The race,
he sprains a wing, and down we tend,
Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning;
Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend,
Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far,
Till our own weakness shows us what we are.

II.

But Time, which brings all beings to their level,
And sharp Adversity, will teach at last
Man, and, as we would hope,-perhaps the devil,
That neither of their intellects are vast:

While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel,
We know not this-the blood flows on too fast;
But as the torrent widens towards the ocean,
We ponder deeply on each past emotion,

III.

As boy, I thought myself a clever fellow,

And wish'd that others held the same opinion; They took it up when my days grew more mellow, And other minds acknowledged my dominion: Now my sere fancy "falls into the yellow

Leaf," and imagination droops her pinion, And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once romantic to burlesque.

IV.

And if I laugh at any mortal thing,
'Tis that I may not weep; and if I weep,
"Tis that our nature cannot always bring
Itself to apathy, which we must steep
First in the icy depths of Lethe's spring
Ere what we least wish to behold will sleep;
Thetis baptized her mortal son in Styx;
A mortal mother would on Lethe fix.

Some have accused me of a strange design
Against the creed and morals of the land,
And trace it in this poem every line:

I don't pretend that I quite understand
My own meaning when I would be very fine;
But the fact is that I have nothing plann'd,
Unless it was to be a moment merry,

A novel word is my vocabulary.

VI.

To the kind reader of our sober clime

This way of writing will appear exotic; Pulci was sire of the half-serious rhyme,

Who sang when chivalry was more Quixotic,

And revell'd in the fancies of the time,

True knights, chaste dames, huge giants, kings despotic; But all these, save the last, being obsolete,

I choose a modern subject as more meet

VII.

How I have treated it, I do not know;

Perhaps no better than they have treated me

Who have imputed such designs as show

Not what they saw, but what they wish'd to see;

But if it gives them pleasure, be it so,

This is a liberal age, and thoughts are free:

Meantime Apollo plucks me by the ear,
And tells me to resume my story here.

VIII.

Young Juan and his lady-love were left
To their own hearts' most sweet society;
Even Time the pitiless in sorrow cleft,

With his rude scythe such gentle bosoms; he Sigh'd to behold them of their hours bereft, Though foe to love; and yet they could not be Meant to grow old, but die in happy spring, Before one charm or hope had taken wing.

IX.

Their faces were not made for wrinkles, their
Pure blood to stagnate, their great hearts to fail;
The blank grey was not made to blast their hair,
But like the climes that know nor snow nor hail
They were all summer: lightning might assail
And shiver them to ashes, but to trail

A long and snake-like life of dull decay
Was not for them-they had too little clay.

X.

They were alone once more; for them to be
Thus was another Eden; they were never
Weary, unless when separate: the tree

Cut from its forest root of years-the river
Damm'd from its fountain-the child from the knee
And breast maternal wean'd at once for ever,
Would wither less than these two torn apart;
Alas! there is no instinct like the heart-

XI.

The heart-which may be broken: happy they!
Thrice fortunate! who of that fragile mould,
The precious porcelain of human clay,

Break with the first fall: they can ne'er behold
The long year link'd with heavy day on day,
And all which must be borne, and never told;
While life's strange principle will often lie
Deepest in those who long the most to die.