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CXXXVI.
A vulgar tempest 'twere to a Typhoon

To match a common fury with her rage,
And yet she did not want to reach the moon,

Like moderate Hotspur on the immortal page ;
Her anger pitch'd into a lower tune,

Perhaps the fault of her soft sex and age
Her wish was but “to kill, kill, kill,” like Lear's,
And then her thirst of blood was quench'd in tears.

CXXXVII.
A storm it raged, and like the storm it pass'd,

Pass'd without words in fact she could not speak: And then her sex's shame broke in at last,

A sentiment in her till then but weak,
But now it flow'd in natural and fast,

As water through an unexpected leak,
For she felt humbled, and humiliation
Is sometimes good for people in her station.

CXXXVIII.
It teaches them that they are flesh and blood,

It also gently hints to them that others,
Although of clay, are not yet quite of mud;

That urns and pipkins are but fragile brothers, And works of the same pottery, bad or good,

Though not all born of the same sires and mothers;
It teaches—Heaven knows only what it teaches,
But sometimes it may mend, and often reaches,

CXXXIX.
Her first thought was to cut off Juan's head;

Her second, to cut only his-acquaintance:
Her third, to ask him where he had been bred ;

Her fourth, to rally him into repentance; Her fifth, to call her maids and go to bed ;

Her sixth, to stab herself; her seventh, to sentence The lash to Baba ;—but her grand resource Was to sit down again, and cry of course.

CXL.
She thought to stab herself, but then she had

The dagger close at hand, which made it awkward ;
For eastern stays are little made to pad,

So that a poniard pierces if 'tis stuck hard :
She thought of killing Juan—but, poor lad!

Though he deserved it well for being so backward,
The cutting off his head was not the art
Most likely to attain her aim-his heart.

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CXLI.
Juan was moved: he had made up his mind

To be impaled, or quarter'd as a dish
For dogs, or to be slain with pangs refined,

Or thrown to lions, or made baits for fish,
And thus beroically stood resign'd,

Rather than sin, except to his own wish : But all his great preparatives for dying Dissolved like snow before a woman crying.

CXLII.
As through his palms Bob Acres' valour oozed,

So Juan's virtue ebb’d, I know not how;
And first he wonder'd why he had refused;

And then if matters could be made up now;
And next his savage virtue he accused,

Just as a friar may accuse his vow,
Or as a dame repents her of her oath,
Which mostly ends in some small breach of both.

CXLIII.

So he began to stammer some excuses ;

But words are not enough in such a matter, Although you borrow'd all that e'er the Muses

Have sung, or even a Dandy's dandiest chatter,
Or all the figures Castlereagh abuses ;

Just as a languid smile began to flatter
His peace was making, but before he ventured
Further, old Baba rather briskly enter'd.

CXLIV. “ Bride of the Sun; and Sister of the Moon !"

('Twas thus he spake,) “and Empress of the Earth! “ Whose frown would put the spheres all out of tune,

“ Whose smile makes all the planets dance with mirth, “ Your slave brings tidings—he hopes not too soonWhich your sublime attention may

be worth: “ The sun himself has sent me like a ray To hint that he is coming up this way."

CXLV. • Is it,” exclaim'd Gulleyaz, as you say?

“I wish to Heaven he would not shine till morning! “ But bid my women form the milky way.

Hence, my old comet! give the stars due warningAnd, christian! mingle with them as you may, “ And as you'd have me pardon your past scorningHere they were interrupted by a humming Sound, and then by a cry, “The sultan's coming!"

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CXLVI.
First came her damsels, a decorous file,

And then his highness' eunuchs black and white;
The train might reach a quarter of a mile :

His majesty was always so polite
As to announce his visits a long while

Before he came, especially at night;
For being the last wife of the emperor,
She was of course the favourite of the four.

CXLVII.
His highness was a man of solemn port,

Shawl'd to the nose, and bearded to the eyes,
Snatch'd from a prison to preside at court,

His lately bowstrung brother caused his rise ;
He was as good a sovereign of the sort

As any mention'd in the histories
Of Cantemir, or Knolles, where few shine
Save Solyman, the glory of their line. [9]

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CXLVIII. He went to mosque in state, and said his prayers

With more than “Oriental scrupulosity;" He left to his vizier all state affairs,

And show'd but little royal curiosity ; I know not if he had domestic cares

No process proved connubial animosity ; Four wives, and twice five hundred maids, unseen, Were ruled as calmly as a christian queen.

CXLIX.
If now and then there happen'd a slight slip,

Little was heard of criminal or crime;
The story scarcely pass'd a single lip-

The sack and sea had settled all in time, From which the secret nobody could rip;

The public knew no more than does this rhyme; No scandals made the daily press a curseMorals were better, and the fish no worse.

CL.
He saw with his own eyes the moon was round,

Was also certain that the earth was square,
Because he had journied fifty miles and found

No sign that it was circular any where; His empire also was without a bound :

'Tis true, a little troubled here and there, By rebel pachas, and encroaching giaours, But then they never came to “ the Seven Towers ;"

CLI.
Except in shape of envoys, who were sent

To lodge there when a war broke out, according To the true law of nations, which ne'er meant

Those scoundrels, who have never had a sword in Their dirty diplomatic hands, to vent

Their spleen in making strife, and safely wording Their lies, yclept despatches, without risk or The singing of a single inky whisker.

CLII.
He had fifty daughters and four dozen sons,

Of whom all such as came of age were stow'd,
The former in a palace, where like nuns

They lived till some Bashaw was sent abroad, When she, whose turn it was, wedded at once,

Sometimes at six years old—though this seems odd, 'Tis true; the reason is, that the Bashaw Must make a present to his sire in law.

CLIII.
His sons were kept in prison, till they grew,

Of years to fill a bowstring or the throne,
One or the other, but which of the two

Could yet be known unto the fates alone!
Meantime the education they went through

Was princely, as the proofs have always shown ;
So that the heir apparent still was found
No less deserving to be hang'd than crown'd.

CLIV.
His Majesty saluted his fourth spouse

With all the ceremonies of his rank,
Who clear'd her sparkling eyes and smooth'd her brows,

As suits a matron who has play'd a prank; These must seem doubly mindful of their vows,

To save the credit of their breaking bank : To no men are such cordial greetings given As those whose wives have made them fit for heaven.

CLV.
His Highness cast around his great black eyes,

And looking, as he always look'd, perceived
Juan amongst the damsels in disguise,

At which he seem'd no whit surprised nor grieved, But just remark'd with air sedate and wise,

While still a fluttering sigh Gulleyaz heaved, “ I see you've bought another girl ; 'tis pity • That å mere christian should be half so pretty.”

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