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 !"

CX.

And full of sentiments, sublime as billows
Heaving between this world and worlds beyond,
Don Juan, when the midnight hour of pillows
Arriv'd, retired to his; but to despond,
Rather than rest. Instead of poppies, willows
Wav'd o'er his couch: he meditated, fond

Of those sweet bitter thoughts which banish sleep,
And make the worldling sneer, the youngling weep.

CXI.

The night was as before: he was undress'd,
Saving his night-gown, which is an undress,
Completely" sans culotte," and without vest;
In short, he hardly could be cloth'd with less;
But, apprehensive of his spectral guest,

He sate, with feelings awkward to express, (By those who have not had such visitations,) Expectant of the ghost's fresh operations.

CXII.

And not in vain he listen'd-Hush! what's that?
I see-I see-Ah, no !-'tis not-yet 'tis-

Ye powers! it is the-the-the-Pooh! the cat!
The devil may take that stealthy pace of his,
So like a spiritual pit-a-pat,

Or tiptoe of an amatory Miss,

Gliding the first time to a rendezvous,
And dreading the chaste echoes of her shoe.

CXIII.

Again-what is't? The wind? No, no,-this time
It is the sable Friar, as before,

With awful footsteps, regular as rhyme,

Or (as rhymes may be in these days) much more: Again, through shadows of the night sublime,

When deep sleep fell on men, and the world wore The starry darkness round her like a girdle,

Spangled with gems-the monk made his blood curdle.

109

110

111

112

113

CXIV.

A noise like to wet fingers drawn on glass,

114

Which sets the teeth on edge; and a slight clatter,
Like showers which on the midnight gust will pass,
Sounding like very supernatural water,-

Came over Juan's ear, which throbb'd, alas !
For immaterialism's a serious matter;
So that even those whose faith is the most great
In souls immortal, shun them tete-a-tete.

CXV.

Were his eyes open P-Yes! and his mouth too.
Surprise has this effect-to make one dumb,
Yet leave the gate which eloquence slips through
As wide as if a long speech were to come.
Nigh and more nigh the awful echoes drew,
Tremendous to a mortal tympanum:

His eyes were open, and, (as was before

Stated) his mouth. What opened next ?-the door.

CXVI.

It open'd with a most infernal creak,

Like that of Hell. "Lasciate ogni speranza
Voi che entrate !" The hinge seem'd to speak,
Dreadful as Dante's rhima, or this stanza;
Or-but all words upon such themes are weak:
A single shade's sufficient to entrance a
Hero-for what is substance to a spirit?
Or how is't matter trembles to come near it ?

CXVII.

115

116

The door flew wide, not swiftly-but as fly

117

The sea-gulls, with a steady, sober flight

And then swung back; nor close-but stood awry,
Half letting in long shadows of the light,

Which still in Juan's candlesticks burn'd high,
For he had two both tolerably bright,-

And in the door-way, darkening darkness, stood
The sable Friar, in his solemn hood.

CXVIII.

Don Juan shook, as erst he had been shaken,
The night before; but, being sick of shaking,
He first inclin'd to think he had been mistaken,
And then to be asham'd of such mistaking:
His own internal ghost began to awaken
Within him, and to quell his corporal quaking;
Hinting that soul and body, on the whole,
Were odds against a disembodied soul.

118

CXIX.

And then his dread grew wrath, and his wrath fierce; 119
And he arose, advanc'd-the shade retreated;
But Juan, eager now the truth to pierce,

Follow'd; his veins no longer cold, but heated;
Resolv'd to thrust the mystery, carte and tierce,
At whatsoever risk of being defeated:

The ghost stopp'd, menac'd, then retir'd, until
He reach'd the ancient wall, then stood stone still.

CXX.

Juan put forth one arm-Eternal Powers!

It touch'd no soul nor body, but the wall,
On which the moonbeams fell in silvery showers
Chequer'd with all the tracery of the hall :-
He shudder'd, as no doubt the bravest cowers,
When he can't tell what 'tis that doth appal.
How odd, a single hobgoblin's non-entity
Should cause more fear than a whole host's identity!

CXXI.

But still the shade remain'd: the blue eyes glar'd,
And rather variably for stony death:

Yet one thing rather good the grave had spar'd—
The ghost had a remarkably sweet breath.

120

121

A straggling curl show'd he had been fair-hair'd:
A red lip, with two rows of pearls beneath,

Gleam'd forth, as through the casement's ivy shroud
The moon peep'd, just escap'd from a grey cloud.

CXXII.

And Juan, puzzled, but still curious, thrust

His other arm forth-Wonder upon wonder!

It press'd upon a hard, bat glowing, bust,

Which beat as if there was a warm heart under.

He found, as people on most trials must,
That he had made at first a silly blunder,
And that, in his confusion, he had caught
Only the wall, instead of what he sought.

CXXIII.

122

The ghost, if ghost it were, seem'd a sweet soul
As ever lurk'd beneath a holy hood:

123

A dimpled chin, a neck of ivory, stole

Forth into something much like flesh and blood:

Back fell the sable frock and dreary cowl,

And they reveal'd-(alas! that e'er they should!)
In full, voluptuous, but not o'ergrown, bulk,
The phantom of her frolic Grace-Fitz-Fulke!

NOTES.

CANTO I. STANZA V.-"Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona," &c.-Horace.

CANTO I. STANZA XVII.-"Description des vertus incomparables de l'huile de Macassar."-See the Advertisement.

CANTO I. STANZA XLII.-See Longinus, Section 10.

CANTO I. STANZA XLIV.-Fact. There is, or was, such an edition, with all the obnoxious epigrams of Martial placed by themselves at the end.

CANTO I. STANZA LXXXVIII.-Campbell's Gertrude of Wyoming. I think the opening of Canto II. but quote from

memory.

CANTO I. STANZA CXLVIII.-Donna Julia here made a mistake. Count O'Reilly did not take Algiers-but Algiers very nearly took him: he and his army and fleet retreated with great loss, and not much credit, from before that city, in the year 17-.

CANTO I STANZA CCXVI.

Me nec femina, nee puer

Jam, nec spes animi credula mutui,
Nec certare juvat mero ?

Nec vincire novis tempora floribus.

CANTO III. STANZA XLV.

Rispose 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;