VI. Most epic poets plunge in « medias res» (Horace makes this the heroic turnpike road), Beside his mistress in some soft abode, Palace or garden, paradise, or cavern VII. That is the usual method, but not mine— Forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning; And therefore I shall open with a line (Although it cost me half an hour in spinning) Narrating somewhat of Don Juan's father, And also of his mother, if you 'd rather. VIII. In Seville was he born, a pleasant city, So says the proverb-and I quite agree; Don Juan's parents lived beside the river, IX. His father's name was Jóse-Don of course, Or, being mounted, e'er got down again, Begot-but that's to come X. -Well, to renew ; His mother was a learned lady, famed XI. Her memory was a mine : she knew by heart So that if any actor miss'd his part, She could have served him for the prompter's copy; For her Feinagle's were a useless art, And he himself obliged to shut up shop-he Could never make a memory so fine as That which adorn'd the brain of Donna Inez. XII. Her favourite science was the mathematical, XIII. She knew the Latin—that is, « the Lord's prayer,» At least her conversation was obscure; Her thoughts were theorems, her words a problem, XIV. She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue, But I must leave the proofs to those who 've seen 'em, But this I heard her say, and can't be wrong, And all may think which way their judgments lean 'em, << "Tis strange the Hebrew noun which means 'I am', The English always use to govern d-n. " XV. XVI. In short, she was a walking calculation, Miss Edgeworth's novels stepping from their covers, Or Mrs Trimmer's books on education, Or « Cœlebs' Wife set out in quest " Morality's prim personification, of lovers, In which not envy's self a flaw discovers, To others' share let « female errors fall,» For she had not even one-the worst of all. XVII. Oh! she was perfect past all parallel— Of any modern female saint's comparison; So far above the cunning powers of hell, Her guardian angel had giv'n up his garrison; Even her minutest motions went as well As those of the best time-piece made by Harrison : In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her, Save thine «< incomparable oil» Macassar! 2 XVIII. Perfect she was, but as perfection is Insipid in this naughty world of ours, Where our first parents never learn'd to kiss, Till they were exiled from their earlier bowers, Where all was peace, and innocence, and bliss, (I wonder how they got through the twelve hours) Don Jose, like a lineal son of Eve, Went plucking various fruit without her leave. XIX. He was a mortal of the careless kind, With no great love for learning or the learn'd, To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn'd, XX. Now Donna Inez had, with all her merit, And such, indeed, she was in her moralities; And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realities, And let few opportunities escape Of getting her liege lord into a scrape. |