CLXXXVI. Alfonso grappled to detain the foe, And Juan throttled him to get away, And blood ('t was from the nose) began to flow; And then his only garment quite gave way; CLXXXVII. Lights came at length, and men, and maids, who found Alfonso leaning, breathless, by the door, Some blood, and several footsteps, but no more: Juan the gate gain'd, turn'd the key about, And liking not the inside, lock'd the out. CLXXXVIII. Here ends this canto,-need I sing, or say, The pleasant scandal which arose next day, The nine days' wonder which was brought to light, And how Alfonso sued for a divorce, Were in the English newspapers, of course. VOL. I. 5 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 't is decided; you depart : 'Tis wise 't is 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, 't is not what it appears, 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; None can deem harshlier of me than I deem: 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, Beloved, and loving many; all is o'er For me on earth, except some years to hide 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. « My breast has been all weakness, is so yet; To all, except one image, madly blind; CXCVII. « I have no more to say, but linger still, My misery can scarce be more complete: Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet, And I must even survive this last adieu, And 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 suit partout, The motto, cut upon a white cornelian; The wax was superfine, its hue vermilion. CXCIX. This was Don Juan's earliest scrape; but whether I shall proceed with his adventures is Dependant on the public altogether; We'll see, however, what they say to this, Their favour in an author's cap's a feather, And no great mischief's 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. |