She could but claim the fifteen-hundredth part
Of what should be monopoly—the heart.
X
It is observed that ladies are litigious
Upon all legal objects of possession,
And not the least so when they are religious,
Which doubles what they think of the transgression:
With suits and prosecutions they besiege us,
As the tribunals show through many a session,
When they suspect that any one goes shares
In that to which the law makes them sole heirs.
XI
Now, if this holds good in a Christian land,
The heathen also, though with lesser latitude,521
Are apt to carry things with a high hand,
And take, what Kings call “an imposing attitude;”
And for their rights connubial make a stand,
When their liege husbands treat them with ingratitude;
And as four wives must have quadruple claims,
The Tigris hath its jealousies like Thames.
XII
Gulbeyaz was the fourth, and (as I said)
The favourite; but what’s favour amongst four?
Polygamy may well be held in dread,
Not only as a sin, but as a bore:
Most wise men with one moderate woman wed,522
Will scarcely find philosophy for more;
And all (except Muhammadans) forbear
To make the nuptial couch a “Bed of Ware.”523
XIII
His Highness, the sublimest of mankind—524
So styled according to the usual forms
Of every monarch, till they are consigned
To those sad hungry Jacobins the worms,
Who on the very loftiest kings have dined—
His Highness gazed upon Gulbeyaz’ charms,
Expecting all the welcome of a lover
(A “Highland welcome”525 all the wide world over).
XIV
Now here we should distinguish; for howe’er
Kisses, sweet words, embraces, and all that,
May look like what it is—neither here nor there,526
They are put on as easily as a hat,
Or rather bonnet, which the fair sex wear,
Trimmed either heads or hearts to decorate,
Which form an ornament, but no more part
Of heads, than their caresses of the heart.
XV
A slight blush, a soft tremor, a calm kind
Of gentle feminine delight, and shown
More in the eyelids than the eyes, resigned
Rather to hide what pleases most unknown,
Are the best tokens (to a modest mind)527
Of Love, when seated on his loveliest throne,
A sincere woman’s breast—for over-warm
Or over-cold annihilates the charm.
XVI
For over-warmth, if false, is worse than truth;
If true, ’tis no great lease of its own fire;
For no one, save in very early youth,
Would like (I think) to trust all to desire,
Which is but a precarious bond, in sooth,
And apt to be transferred to the first buyer
At a sad discount: while your over chilly
Women, on t’ other hand, seem somewhat silly.
XVII
That is, we cannot pardon their bad taste,
For so it seems to lovers swift or slow,
Who fain would have a mutual flame confessed,
And see a sentimental passion glow,
Even were St. Francis’ paramour their guest,
In his monastic concubine of snow;—528
In short, the maxim for the amorous tribe is
Horatian, “Medio tu tutissimus ibis.”529
XVIII
The “tu” ’s too much—but let it stand—the verse
Requires it, that’s to say, the English rhyme,
And not the pink of old hexameters;
But, after all, there’s neither tune nor time
In the last line, which cannot well be worse,530
And was thrust in to close the octave’s chime:
I own no prosody can ever rate it
As a rule, but Truth may, if you translate it.
XIX
If fair Gulbeyaz overdid her part,
I know not—it succeeded, and success
Is much in most things, not less in the heart
Than other articles of female dress.
Self-love in Man, too, beats all female art;531
They lie, we lie, all lie, but love no less:
And no one virtue yet, except starvation,
Could stop that worst of vices—propagation.
XX
We leave this royal couple to repose:
A bed is not a throne, and they may sleep,
Whate’er their dreams be, if of joys or woes:
Yet disappointed joys are woes as deep
As any man’s clay mixture undergoes.
Our least of sorrows are such as we weep;
’Tis the vile daily drop on drop which wears
The soul out (like the stone) with petty cares.532
XXI
A scolding wife, a sullen son, a bill
To pay, unpaid, protested, or discounted
At a per-centage; a child cross, dog ill,
A favourite horse fallen lame just as he’s mounted,
A bad old woman making a worse will,533
Which leaves you minus of the cash you counted534
As certain;—these are paltry things, and yet
I’ve rarely seen the man they did not fret.
XXII
I’m a philosopher; confound them all!535
Bills, beasts, and men, and—no! not womankind!536
With one good hearty curse I vent my gall,
And then my Stoicism leaves nought behind
Which it can either pain or evil call,
And I can give my whole soul up to mind;
Though what is soul, or mind, their birth or growth,
Is more than I know—the deuce take them both!537
XXIII
So now all things are damned one feels at ease,
As after reading Athanasius’ curse,
Which doth your true believer so much please:
I doubt if any now could make it worse
O’er his worst enemy when at his knees,
’Tis so sententious, positive, and terse,
And decorates the Book of Common Prayer,
As doth a rainbow the just clearing air.
XXIV
Gulbeyaz and her lord were sleeping, or
At least one of them!—Oh, the heavy night,
When wicked wives, who love some bachelor,538
Lie down in dudgeon to sigh for the light
Of the grey morning, and look vainly for
Its twinkle through the lattice dusky quite—
To toss, to tumble, doze, revive, and quake
Lest their too lawful bed-fellow should wake!539
XXV
These are beneath the canopy of heaven,
Also beneath the canopy of beds
Four-posted and silk-curtained, which are given
For
