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 stand—
Yet, 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 erred, nor greyhounds deigned to lurch;
Some deadly shots too, Septembrizers,1191 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,1192
The loudest wit I e’er was deafened 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 earned 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,1193
A fat fen vicarage, and nought to think on.
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.1194
No longer ready ears and short-hand pens
Imbibed the gay bon-mot, or happy hoax:1195
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.1196
LXXXIV
There is a difference, says the song, “between
A beggar and a Queen,”1197 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,1198 who doth owe
To these the invention of champagne and truffles:
Temperance delights her, but long fasting ruffles.
LXXXVII
Dully passed 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 nailed upon his chair:
Though knives and forks clanked round as in a fray,
He seemed unconscious of all passing there,
Till some one, with a groan, expressed 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 coloured 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 occurred,
The supplicator being an amateur;
But others, who were left with scarce a third,
Were angry—as they well might, to be sure,
They wondered 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.
XC
They little knew, or might have sympathized,
That he the night before had seen a ghost,
A prologue which but slightly harmonized
With the substantial company engrossed
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 wondered at the abstraction of his air,
Especially as he had been renowned
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 gained 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 embarrassed—quite the contrary;
Her aspect was as usual, still—not stern—
And she withdrew, but cast not down, her eye,
Yet grew a little pale—with what? concern?
I know not; but her colour ne’er was high—
Though sometimes faintly flushed—and always clear,
As deep seas in a sunny atmosphere.
XCV
But Adeline was occupied
