The third, a wary, cool old sworder, took
The blows upon his cutlass, and then put
His own well in; so well, ere you could look,
His man was floored, and helpless at his foot,
With the blood running like a little brook
From two smart sabre gashes, deep and red—
One on the arm, the other on the head.
L
And then they bound him where he fell, and bore
Juan from the apartment: with a sign
Old Lambro bade them take him to the shore,
Where lay some ships which were to sail at nine.373
They laid him in a boat, and plied the oar
Until they reached some galliots, placed in line;
On board of one of these, and under hatches,
They stowed him, with strict orders to the watches.
LI
The world is full of strange vicissitudes,
And here was one exceedingly unpleasant:
A gentleman so rich in the world’s goods,
Handsome and young, enjoying all the present,374
Just at the very time when he least broods
On such a thing, is suddenly to sea sent,
Wounded and chained, so that he cannot move,
And all because a lady fell in love.
LII
Here I must leave him, for I grow pathetic,
Moved by the Chinese nymph of tears, green tea!
Than whom Cassandra was not more prophetic;
For if my pure libations exceed three,
I feel my heart become so sympathetic,
That I must have recourse to black Bohea:
’Tis pity wine should be so deleterious,
For tea and coffee leave us much more serious,
LIII
Unless when qualified with thee, Cogniac!
Sweet Naïad of the Phlegethontic rill!
Ah! why the liver wilt thou thus attack,375
And make, like other nymphs, thy lovers ill?
I would take refuge in weak punch, but rack
(In each sense of the word), whene’er I fill
My mild and midnight beakers to the brim,
Wakes me next morning with its synonym.376
LIV
I leave Don Juan for the present, safe—
Not sound, poor fellow, but severely wounded;
Yet could his corporal pangs amount to half
Of those with which his Haidée’s bosom bounded?
She was not one to weep, and rave, and chafe,
And then give way, subdued because surrounded;
Her mother was a Moorish maid from Fez,
Where all is Eden, or a wilderness.
LV
There the large olive rains its amber store
In marble fonts; there grain, and flower, and fruit,
Gush from the earth until the land runs o’er;377
But there, too, many a poison-tree has root,
And Midnight listens to the lion’s roar,
And long, long deserts scorch the camel’s foot,
Or heaving whelm the helpless caravan;
And as the soil is, so the heart of man.
LVI
Afric is all the Sun’s, and as her earth
Her human clay is kindled; full of power
For good or evil, burning from its birth,
The Moorish blood partakes the planet’s hour,
And like the soil beneath it will bring forth:
Beauty and love were Haidée’s mother’s dower;
But her large dark eye showed deep Passion’s force,
Though sleeping like a lion near a source.378
LVII
Her daughter, tempered with a milder ray,
Like summer clouds all silvery, smooth, and fair,
Till slowly charged with thunder they display
Terror to earth, and tempest to the air,
Had held till now her soft and milky way;
But overwrought with Passion and Despair,
The fire burst forth from her Numidian veins,
Even as the Simoom379 sweeps the blasted plains.
LVIII
The last sight which she saw was Juan’s gore,
And he himself o’ermastered and cut down;
His blood was running on the very floor
Where late he trod, her beautiful, her own;
Thus much she viewed an instant and no more—
Her struggles ceased with one convulsive groan;
On her Sire’s arm, which until now scarce held
Her writhing, fell she like a cedar felled.
LIX
A vein had burst, and her sweet lips’ pure dyes380
Were dabbled with the deep blood which ran o’er;381
And her head drooped, as when the lily lies
O’ercharged with rain: her summoned handmaids bore
Their lady to her couch with gushing eyes;
Of herbs and cordials they produced their store,
But she defied all means they could employ,
Like one Life could not hold, nor Death destroy.
LX
Days lay she in that state unchanged, though chill—
With nothing livid, still her lips were red;
She had no pulse, but Death seemed absent still;
No hideous sign proclaimed her surely dead;
Corruption came not in each mind to kill
All hope; to look upon her sweet face bred
New thoughts of Life, for it seemed full of soul—
She had so much, Earth could not claim the whole.
LXI
The ruling passion, such as marble shows
When exquisitely chiselled, still lay there,
But fixed as marble’s unchanged aspect throws
O’er the fair Venus, but for ever fair;382
O’er the Laocoön’s all eternal throes,
And ever-dying Gladiator’s air,
Their energy like life forms all their fame,
Yet looks not life, for they are still the same.—383
LXII
She woke at length, but not as sleepers wake,
Rather the dead, for Life seemed something new,
A strange sensation which she must partake
Perforce, since whatsoever met her view
Struck not on memory, though a heavy ache
Lay at her heart, whose earliest beat still true
Brought back the sense of pain without the cause,
For, for a while, the Furies made a pause.
LXIII
She looked on many a face with vacant eye,
On many a token without knowing what:
She saw them watch her without asking why,
And recked not who around her pillow sat;
Not speechless, though she spoke not—not a sigh
Relieved her thoughts—dull silence and quick chat
Were tried in vain by those who served; she gave
No sign, save breath, of having left the grave.
LXIV
Her handmaids tended, but she heeded not;
Her Father watched, she turned her eyes away;
She recognised no being, and no spot,
However dear or cherished in their day;
They changed
