CLXXXIV. " Fire!" Dire was the scuffle, and out went the light, CLXXXV. Alfonso's sword had dropp'd ere he could draw it, His temper not being under great command, CLXXXVI. Alfonso grappled to detain the foe, And Juan throttled him to get away, And blood ('twas from the nose) began to flow; CLXXXVII. Lights came at length, and men, and maids, who found 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, CLXXXVIII. Here ends this canto ;-need I sing, or say, The nine days' wonder which was brought to light, And how Alfonso sued for a divorce, Were in the English newspapers of course. CLXXXIX. If you would like to see the whole proceedings, There's more than one edition, and the readings CXC. ) 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. CXCI. She had resolved that he should travel through (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: CXCII. 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 eye-balls burn and throb, but have no tears. CXCIII. "I loved, I love you, for this love have lost State, station, Heaven, mankind's, my own esteem, "And yet cannot 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. CXCIV. "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. CXCV. "You will proceed in pleasure and in pride, 66 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. CXCVI. 66 My breast has been all weakness is so yet; "But still I think I can collect my mind; My blood still rushes where my spirits set, "As rolls the wave 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 fixed soul. CXCVII. "I have no more to say, but linger still, "My misery can scarce be more complete : "I had not lived till now, could sorrow kill: "Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet, "And I must e'en survive this last adieu, "To bear with life to love and pray for you!" CXCVIII. This note was written upon gilt-edged paper And yet she did not let one tear escape her; The seal a sunflower; "Elle vous suis par tout," The motto, cut upon a white cornelian; The wax was superfine, its hue vermillion. CXCIX. This was Don Juan's earliest scrape; but whether We'll see, however, what they say to this, And no great mischief done by their caprice; And if their approbation we experience, Perhaps they'll have some more about a year hence, CC. My poem's epic, and is meant to be Divided in twelve books: each book containing With love and war, a heavy gale at sea, A list of ships, and captains, and kings reigning, New characters; the episodes are three: A panorama view of hell's in training, After the style of Virgil and of Homer, So that my name of epic's no misnomer. CCI. All these things will be specified in time, Which makes so many poets, and some fools: CCII. There's only one slight difference between CCII. If any person doubt it, I appeal To history, tradition, and to facts, |