1 [For two translations of this Portuguese song, see p. 557.] * 1 remember that the mayoress of a provincial town, somewhat surfeited with a similar display from foreign parts, did rather indecorously break through the applauses of an intelligent audience-intelligent, I mean, as to music-for the words, besides being in recondite languages (it was some years before the peace, ere all the world had travelled, and while I was a collegian), were sorely disguised by the performers: this mayoress, I say, broke out with, Rot your Italianos! for my part, I loves a simple ballat !" Rossini will

go a good way to bring most people to the same opinion some day. Who would imagine that he was to be the successor of Mozart? However, I state this with diffidence, as a liege and loyal admirer of Italian music in general, and of much of Rossini's; but we may say, as the connoisseur did of painting in "The Vicar of Wakefield," that "the picture would be better painted if the painter had taken more pains."

3 [The last words or rhymes of a number of verses given to a poet to be filled up. — TODD.]

4 [Petticoat government — female

power. - Ibid.]

LVI.

There was a picture-dealer who had brought
A special Titian, warranted original,
So precious that it was not to be bought,

Though princes the possessor were besieging all.
The king himself had cheapen'd it, but thought
The civil list he deigns to accept (obliging all
His subjects by his gracious acceptation).
Too scanty, in these times of low taxation.
LVII.

But as Lord Henry was a connoisseur, –
The friend of artists, if not arts, the owner,
With motives the most classical and pure,
So that he would have been the very donor,
Rather than seller, had his wants been fewer,

So much he deem'd his patronage an honour, Had brought the capo d'opera 1, not for sale, But for his judgment—never known to fail.

LVIII.

[thick,

There was a modern Goth, I mean a Gothic
Bricklayer of Babel, call'd an architect,
Brought to survey these grey walls, which though so
Might have from time acquired some slight defect;
Who, after rummaging the Abbey through thick

And thin, produced a plan whereby to erect
New buildings of correctest conformation,
And throw down old, which he call'd restoration.
LIX.

The cost would be a trifle-an "old song,"

Set to some thousands ('tis the usual burden Of that same tune, when people hum it long)— The price would speedily repay its worth in An edifice no less sublime than strong,

By which Lord Henry's good taste would go forth in

Its glory, through all ages shining sunny,
For Gothic daring shown in English money.

1 [Capo d'opera-chef-d'œuvre-master-piece.]

2" Ausu Romano, ære Veneto" is the inscription (and well inscribed in this instance) on the sea walls between the Adriatic and Venice. The walls were a republican work of the Venetians; the inscription, I believe, Imperial; and inscribed by Napoleon the First. It is time to continue to him that title-there will be a second by and by, "Spes altera mundi," if he live; let him not defeat it like his father. But

And merely state, though not for the consistory,
Lord Henry was a justice, and that Scout
The constable, beneath a warrant's banner,
Had bagg'd this poacher upon Nature's manor.
LXIII.

Now justices of peace must judge all pieces
Of mischief of all kinds, and keep the game
And morals of the country from caprices

Of those who have not a licence for the same;
And of all things, excepting tithes and leases,
Perhaps these are most difficult to tame :
Preserving partridges and pretty wenches
Are puzzles to the most precautious benches.

LXIV.

The present culprit was extremely pale,
Pale as if painted so; her cheek being red
By nature, as in higher dames less hale

'Tis white, at least when they just rise from bed. Perhaps she was ashamed of seeming frail,

Poor soul! for she was country born and bred, And knew no better in her immorality Than to wax white-for blushes are for quality.

LXV.

Her black, bright, downcast, yet espiègle eye, Had gather'd a large tear into its corner, Which the poor thing at times essay'd to dry, For she was not a sentimental mourner Parading all her sensibility,

Nor insolent enough to scorn the scorner, But stood in trembling, patient tribulation, To be call'd up for her examination.

LXVI.

Of course these groups were scatter'd here and there, Not nigh the gay saloon of ladies gent.

The lawyers in the study; and in air

The prize pig, ploughman, poachers; the men sent From town, viz. architect and dealer, were

Both busy (as a general in his tent Writing despatches) in their several stations, Exulting in their brilliant lucubrations.

LXVII.

But this poor girl was left in the great hall,
While Scout, the parish guardian of the frail,
Discuss'd (he hated beer yclept the "small")
A mighty mug of moral double ale.
She waited until Justice could recall

Its kind attentions to their proper pale,
To name a thing in nomenclature rather
Perplexing for most virgins—a child's father.
LXVIII.

You see here was enough of occupation

For the Lord Henry, link'd with dogs and horses. There was much bustle too, and preparation Below stairs on the score of second courses; Because, as suits their rank and situation,

Those who in counties have great land resources Have "public days," when all men may carouse, Though not exactly what's call'd "open house."

in any case, he will be preferable to Imbeciles. There is a glorious field for him, if he know how to cultivate it.-Napoleon, Duke of Reichstadt, died at Vienna in 1832-3 the disappointment of many prophets.]

IXIX.

But once a week or fortnight, uninvited
(Thus we translate a general invitation)
All country gentlemen, esquired or knighted,
May drop in without cards, and take their station
At the full board, and sit alike delighted

With fashionable wines and conversation;
And, as the isthmus of the grand connection,
Talk o'er themselves the past and next election.

LXX.

Lord Henry was a great electioneerer,

Burrowing for boroughs like a rat or rabbit. But county contests cost him rather dearer,

Because the neighbouring Scotch Earl of Giftgabbit Had English influence, in the self-same sphere here; His son, the Honourable Dick Dicedrabbit, Was member for the "other interest" (meaning The same self-interest, with a different leaning).

LXXI.

Courteous and cautious therefore in his county, He was all things to all men, and dispensed To some civility, to others bounty,

And promises to all-which last commenced To gather to a somewhat large amount, he

Not calculating how much they condensed; But what with keeping some, and breaking others, His word had the same value as another's.

LXXII.

A friend to freedom and freeholders—yet
No less a friend to government — he held,
That he exactly the just medium hit

"Twixt place and patriotism-albeit compell'd,
Such was his sovereign's pleasure, (though unfit,
He added modestly, when rebels rail'd,)
To hold some sinecures he wish'd abolish'd,
But that with them all law would be demolish'd.
LXXIII.

He was "free to confess"-(whence comes this phrase?
Is't English? No-'tis only parliamentary)
That innovation's spirit now-a-days

Had made more progress than for the last century. He would not tread a factious path to praise,

Though for the public weal disposed to venture high; As for his place, he could but say this of it, That the fatigue was greater than the profit.

LXXVI.

He was as independent-
-ay, much more-
Than those who were not paid for independence,
As common soldiers, or a common-shore,
Have in their several arts or parts ascendance
O'er the irregulars in lust or gore,

Who do not give professional attendance.
Thus on the mob all statesmen are as eager
To prove their pride, as footmen to a beggar.
LXXVII.

All this (save the last stanza) Henry said,
And thought. I say no more - I've said too much;
For all of us have either heard or read-

Off- or upon the hustings some slight such
Hints from the independent heart or head
Of the official candidate. I'll touch
No more on this - the dinner-bell hath rung,
And grace is said; the grace I should have sung -
LXXVIII.

But I'm too late, and therefore must make play.
'Twas a great banquet, such as Albion old
Was wont to boast -as if a glutton's tray
Were something very glorious to behold.
But 'twas a public feast and public day, -

-

Quite full, right dull, guests hot, and dishes cold, Great plenty, much formality, small cheer,

And everybody out of their own sphere.

LXXIX.

The squires familiarly formal, and

My lords and ladies proudly condescending; The very servants puzzling how to hand

Their plates-without it might be too much bending From their high places by the sideboard's standYet, like their masters, fearful of offending. For any deviation from the graces Might cost both man and master too-their places. LXXX.

There were some hunters bold, and coursers keen, Whose hounds ne'er err'd, nor greyhounds deign'd to lurch;

Some deadly shots too, Septembrizers, seen
Earliest to rise, and last to quit the search
Of the poor partridge through his stubble screen.
There were some massy members of the church,
Takers of tithes, and makers of good matches.
And several who sung fewer psalms than catches.
LXXXI.

There were some country wags too—and, alas!
Some exiles from the town, who had been driven
To gaze, instead of pavement, upon grass,

And rise at nine in lieu of long eleven.
And lo! upon that day it came to pass,

I sate next that o'erwhelming son of heaven,
The very powerful parson, Peter Pith,"
The loudest wit I e'er was deafen'd with.
LXXXII.

I knew him in his livelier London days,
A brilliant diner out, though but a curate,
And not a joke he cut but earn'd its praise,
Until preferment, coming at a sure rate,
(O Providence! how wondrous are thy ways!

Who would suppose thy gifts sometimes obdurate?)
Gave him, to lay the devil who looks o'er Lincoln,
A fat fen vicarage, and nought to think on.

2 Query, Sydney Smith, author of Peter Plimley's Letters? Printer's Devil.]

LXXXIII.

His jokes were sermons, and his sermons jokes ;
But both were thrown away amongst the fens;
For wit hath no great friend in aguish folks.
No longer ready ears and short-hand pens
Imbibed the gay bon-mot, or happy hoax:

The poor priest was reduced to common sense, Or to coarse efforts very loud and long,

To hammer a hoarse laugh from the thick throng.
LXXXIV.

There is a difference, says the song, "between
A beggar and a queen '," or was (of late
The latter worse used of the two we've seen-
But we'll say nothing of affairs of state);
A difference" 'twixt a bishop and a dean,'

A difference between crockery ware and plate,
As between English beef and Spartan broth
And yet great heroes have been bred by both.
LXXXV.

But of all nature's discrepancies, none

Upon the whole is greater than the difference Beheld between the country and the town,

Of which the latter merits every preference From those who have few resources of their own, And only think, or act, or feel, with reference To some small plan of interest or ambition Both which are limited to no condition.

LXXXVI.

But" en avant!" The light loves languish o'er Long banquets and too many guests, although A slight repast makes people love much more, Bacchus and Ceres being, as we know,

Even from our grammar upwards, friends of yore With vivifying Venus 2, who doth owe

To these the invention of champagne and truffles: Temperance delights her, but long fasting ruffles. LXXXVII.

Dully pass'd o'er the dinner of the day;

And Juan took his place, he knew not where, Confused, in the confusion, and distrait,

And sitting as if nail'd upon his chair:

XC.

They little knew, or might have sympathised,
That he the night before had seen a ghost,

A prologue which but slightly harmonised
With the substantial company engross'd
By matter, and so much materialised,

That one scarce knew at what to marvel most Of two things-how (the question rather odd is) Such bodies could have souls, or souls such bodies. XCI.

But what confused him more than smile or stare, From all the 'squires and 'squiresses around, Who wonder'd at the abstraction of his air, Especially as he had been renown'd

For some vivacity among the fair,

Even in the country circle's narrow bound — (For little things upon my lord's estate Were good small talk for others still less great)— XCII.

Was, that he caught Aurora's eye on his,

And something like a smile upon her cheek.
Now this he really rather took amiss;
In those who rarely smile, their smile bespeaks
A strong external motive; and in this

Smile of Aurora's there was nought to pique,
Or hope, or love, with any of the wiles
Which some pretend to trace in ladies' smiles.
XCIII.

'Twas a mere quiet smile of contemplation,
Indicative of some surprise and pity;
And Juan grew carnation with vexation,

Which was not very wise, and still less witty,
Since he had gain'd at least her observation,
A most important outwork of the city-
As Juan should have known, had not his senses
By last night's ghost been driven from their defences.
XCIV.

But what was bad, she did not blush in turn,
Nor seem embarrass'd-quite the contrary;
Her aspect was as usual, still-not stern-
And she withdrew, but cast not down, her eye,

He seem'd unconscious of all passing there, Till some one, with a groan, exprest a wish (Unheeded twice) to have a fin of fish.

LXXXVIII.

On which, at the third asking of the banns,
He started; and perceiving smiles around
Broadening to grins, he colour'd more than once,
And hastily-as nothing can confound
A wise man more than laughter from a dunce-
Inflicted on the dish a deadly wound,
And with such hurry, that, ere he could curb it,
He had paid his neighbour's prayer with half a turbot.

LXXXIX.

This was no bad mistake, as it occurr'd,

The supplicator being an amateur;
But others, who were left with scarce a third,
Were angry as they well might, to be sure,
They wonder'd how a young man so absurd

Lord Henry at his table should endure;
And this, and his not knowing how much oats
Had fallen last market, cost his host three votes.
1["There's a difference between a beggar and a queen;
And I'll tell you the reason why;

I know not; but her colour ne'er was highThough sometimes faintly flush'd-and always clear, As deep seas in a sunny atmosphere.

XCV.

But Adeline was occupied by fame

This day; and watching, witching, condescending To the consumers of fish, fowl, and game,

And dignity with courtesy so blending, As all must blend whose part it is to aim (Especially as the sixth year is ending) At their lord's, son's, or similar connection's Safe conduct through the rocks of re-elections. XCVI. Though this was most expedient on the whole And usual-Juan, when he cast a glance On Adeline while playing her grand rôle, Which she went through as though it were a dance, Betraying only now and then her soul

By a look scarce perceptibly askance
(Of weariness or scorn), began to feel
Some doubt how much of Adeline was real;

A queen does not swagger, nor get drunk like a beggar,
Nor be half so merry as 1," &c.]

2 [Sine Cerere et Baccho friget Venus.-APAG.]

XCVII.

So well she acted all and every part

-

By turns with that vivacious versatility, Which many people take for want of heart.

They err- 'tis merely what is call'd mobility, 1. A thing of temperament and not of art,

Though seeming so, from its supposed facility; And false- though true; for surely they're sincerest, Who are strongly acted on by what is nearest. XCVIII.

This makes your actors, artists, and romancers, Heroes sometimes, though seldom -sages never: But speakers, bards, diplomatists, and dancers, Little that's great, but much of what is clever; Most orators, but very few financiers,

Though all Exchequer chancellors endeavour, Of late years, to dispense with Cocker's rigours, And grow quite figurative with their figures. XCIX.

The poets of arithmetic are they

Who, though they prove not two and two to be Five, as they might do in a modest way,

Have plainly made it out that four are three,
Judging by what they take, and what they pay.
The Sinking Fund's unfathomable sea,

That most unliquidating liquid, leaves
The debt unsunk, yet sinks all it receives.
C.

While Adeline dispensed her airs and graces,

The fair Fitz-Fulke seem'd very much at ease; Though too well bred to quiz men to their faces, Her laughing blue eyes with a glance could seize The ridicules of people in all places-

That honey of your fashionable bees-
And store it up for mischievous enjoyment;
And this at present was her kind employment.

CI.

However, the day closed, as days must close; The evening also waned—and coffee came. Each carriage was announced, and ladies rose, And curtsying off, as curtsies country dame, Retired with most unfashionable bows

Their docile esquires also did the same, Delighted with their dinner and their host, But with the Lady Adeline the most.

CII.

Some praised her beauty: others her great grace; The warmth of her politeness, whose sincerity Was obvious in each feature of her face,

Whose traits were radiant with the rays of verity. Yes; she was truly worthy her high place!

No one could envy her deserved prosperity. And then her dress what beautiful simplicity Draperied her form with curious felicity! 2

CIII.

Meanwhile sweet Adeline deserved their praises,
By an impartial indemnification

For all her past exertion and soft phrases,
In a most edifying conversation,

1 In French "mobilité." I am not sure that mobility is English: but it is expressive of a quality which rather belongs to other climates, though it is sometimes seen to a great extent in our own. It may be defined as an excessive susceptibility of immediate impressions at the same time without losing the past: and is, though sometimes apparently useful to the possessor, a most painful and unhappy attribute.-[That Lord Byron was fully aware not only of the abundance of this quality in his own nature, but of the danger in which it placed consistency and singleness of character, did not require this note to assure you. The consciousness, indeed, of his own

There were but two exceptions to this keen
Skirmish of wits o'er the departed; one
Aurora, with her pure and placid mien;

And Juan, too, in general behind none

In gay remark on what he had heard or seen,
Sate silent now, his usual spirits gone:
In vain he heard the others rail or rally,
He would not join them in a single sally.
CVI.

'Tis true he saw Aurora look as though

She approved his silence; she perhaps mistook Its motive for that charity we owe

But seldom pay the absent, nor would look Farther; it might or it might not be so.

But Juan, sitting silent in his nook, Observing little in his reverie,

Yet saw this much, which he was glad to see.

CVII.

The ghost at least had done him this much good,
In making him as silent as a ghost,

If in the circumstances which ensued

He gain'd esteem where it was worth the most; And certainly Aurora had renew'd

In him some feelings he had lately lost, Or harden'd; feelings which, perhaps ideal, Are so divine, that I must deem them real: CVIII.

The love of higher things and better days;

The unbounded hope, and heavenly ignorance
Of what is call'd the world, and the world's ways;
The moments when we gather from a glance
More joy than from all future pride or praise,
Which kindle manhood, but can ne'er entrance
The heart in an existence of its own,
Of which another's bosom is the zone.
CIX.

Who would not sigh Αι αι των Κυθέρειαν

That hath a memory, or that had a heart? Alas! her star must fade like that of Dian:

Ray fades on ray, as years on years depart. Anacreon only had the soul to tie an

Unwithering myrtle round the unblunted dart Of Eros but though thou hast play'd us many tricks, Still we respect thee," Alma Venus Genetrix ! " 4

:

natural tendency to yield thus to every chance impression, and change with every passing impulse, was not only for ever present in his mind, but had the effect of keeping him in that general line of consistency, on certain great subjects, which he continued to preserve throughout life.— Moore.]

2" Curiosa felicitas."- PETRONIUS ARBITER.

3 ["Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer.' POPE on Addison.] genetrix hominum, divômque voluptas, Alma Venus!"-LUCRET. lib. i.]

4