VI. Most epic poets plunge in « medias res» Beside his mistress in some soft abode, Palace or garden, paradise or cavern, Which serves the happy couple for a tavern. VII. That is the usual method, but not mine- Forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning, And therefore I shall open with a line (Although it cost me half an hour in spinning), Narrating somewhat of Don Juan's father, And also of his mother, if you 'd rather. VIII. In Seville was he born, a pleasant city, Famous for oranges and women-he His father's name was Jose-Don, of course, Or, being mounted, e'er got down again, Ilis mother was a learned lady, famed For every branch of every science known- iler memory was a mine: she knew by heart So that if any actor miss'd his part, She could have served him for the prompter's copy; For her Feinagle's were an useless art, And he himself obliged to shut up shop-he Could never make a memory so fine as That which adorn'd the brain of Donna Inez. XU. Her favourite science was the mathematical, XIII. She knew the Latin-that is, « the Lord's prayer,» And Greek-the alphabet, I 'm nearly sure; She read some French romances here and there, Although her mode of speaking was not pure: For native Spanish she had no great care, At least her conversation was obscure; Her thoughts were theorems, her words a problem, As if she deem'd that mystery would ennoble 'em. XIV. She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue, But I must leave the proofs to those who 've seen 'em ; But this I heard her say, aud can't be wrong, And all may think which way their judgments lean' em, «T is strange-the Hebrew noun which means “I am,' The English always use to govern d—n. XV. XVI In short, she was a walking calculation, Miss Edgeworth's novels stepping from their covers, Or Mrs Trimmer's books on education, Or «Colebs Wife» set out in quest of lovers, Morality's prim personification, In which not Envy's self a flaw discovers; To others' share let « female errors fall,» For she had not even one-the worst of all. XVII. Oh! she was perfect past all parallel Of any modern female saint's comparison; So far above the cunning powers of hell, Her guardian angel had given up his garrison; Even her minutest motions went as well As those of the best time-piece made by Harrison: In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her, Save thine « incomparable oil,» Macassar!? XVII. Perfect she was, but as perfection is Insipid in this naughty world of ours, Where our first parents never learn'd to kiss Till they were exiled from their earlier bowers, Where all was peace, and innocence, and bliss (I wonder how they got through the twelve hours). Don Jose, like a lineal son of Eve, Went plucking various fruit without her leave. XIX. He was a mortal of the careless kind, With no great love for learning, or the learn d Who chose to go where'er he had a mind, And never dream'd his lady was concern'd: The world, as usual, wickedly inclined To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn'd, Whisper'd he had a mistress, some said two, But for domestic quarrels one will do. XX. Now Donna Inez had, with all her merit, And such indeed she was in her moralities; And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realities, And let few opportunities escape Of getting her liege lord into a scrape. XXI. This was an easy matter with a man Oft in the wrong, and never on his guard; And even the wisest, do the best they can, Have moments, hours, and days, so unprepared, That you might << brain them with their lady's fan; a And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard, And fans turn into falchions in fair hands, And why and wherefore no one understands. XXII 'Tis pity learned virgins ever wed With persons of no sort of education, I don't chuse to say much upon this head, I'm a plain man, and in a single station, But-oh! ye lords of ladies intellectual, Inform us truly, have they not hen-peck'd you all' XXIII. Don Jose and his lady quarrell'd-why, Not any of the many could divine; Though several thousand people chose to try. 'T was surely no concern of theirs nor mine: I loathe that low vice curiosity; Fut if there's any thing in which I shine, And so I interfered, and with the best XXV. A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing, To school, or had him whipp'd at home, XXVI. Don Jose and the Donna Inez led For sometime an unhappy sort of life, Wishing each other, not divorced, but dead; They lived respectably as man and wife, Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred, And gave no outward sigus of inward strife, Until at length the smother'd fire broke out, And put the business past all kind of doubt. XXVII. For Inez call'd some druggists and physicians, And tried to prove her loving lord was mad, But as he had some lucid intermissions, She next decided he was only bad; Yet when they ask'd her for her depositions, No sort of explanation could be had, Save that her duty both to man and God Required this conduct-which seem'd very odd. XXVIII. She kept a journal, where his faults were noted, And then this best and meckest woman bore Who saw their spouses kill'd, and nobly chose Calmly she heard each calumny that rose, And saw his agonies with such sublimity, That all the world exclaim'd, « What magnanimity!» XXX. No doubt, this patience, when the world is damning us, And if our quarrels should rip up old stories, By contrast, which is what we just were wishing all : Their friends had tried at reconciliation, Then their relations, who made matters worse (T were hard to tell upon a like occasion To whom it may be best to have recourseI can't say much for friend or yet relation) : The lawyers did their utmost for divorce, But scarce a fee was paid on either side Before, unluckily, Don Jose died. XXXIII. He died: and most unluckily, because, (Although their talk's obscure and circumspect), XXXIV. But ah! he died! and buried with him lay Yet Jose was an honourable man, That I must say, who knew him very well, Indeed there were not many more to tell; Whate'er might be his worthlessness or worth, It was a trying moment that which found him, Dying intestate, Juan was sole heir To a chancery-suit, and messuages, and lands, Which, with a long minority and care, Promised to turn out well in proper hands: Inez became sole guardian, which was fair, And answer'd but to nature's just demands; Is brought up much more wisely than another. Sagest of women, even of widows, she Resolved that Juan should be quite a paragon, And worthy of the noblest pedigree (His sire was of Castile, his dam from Arragon): Then for accomplishments of chivalry, In case our lord the king should go to war again, ΧΧΧΙΧ. But that which Donna Inez most desired, And so they were submitted first to her, all XL. The languages, especially the dead, The sciences, and most of all the abstruse, The arts, at least all such as could be said To be the most remote from common use, In all these he was much and deeply read; But not a page of any thing that 's loose, Or hints continuation of the species, Was ever suffer'd, lest he should grow vicious. XLI. His classic studies made a little puzzle, Because of filthy loves of gods and goddesses, Who in the earlier ages raised a bustle, But never put on pantaloons or boddices; His reverend tutors had at times a tussle, And for their Eneids, Hlads, and Odysseys, Were forced to make an odd sort of apology, For Donna Inez dreaded the mythology. XLII. Ovid's a rake, as half his verses show him; I don't think Sappho's Ode a good example, XLII. Lucretius' irreligion is too strong For early stomachs, to prove wholesome food, I can't help thinking Juvenal was wrong, Although no doubt his real intent was good, So much indeed as to be downright rude; For there we have them all at one fell swoop,» To call them back into their separate cages, The Missal too (it was the family Missal) Was ornamented in a sort of way Which ancient mass books often are, and this all Kinds of grotesques illumined; and how they Who saw those figures on the margin kiss all, Could turn their optics to the text and pray Is more than I know-but Don Juan's mother Kept this herself, and gave her son another. XLVII. Sermons he read, and lectures he endured, He did not take such studies for restraints: This, too, was a seal'd book to little Juan- She scarcely trusted him from out her sight; XLIX. Young Juan wax'd in goodliness and grace: As e'er to man's maturer growth was given : And seem'd, at least, in the right road to heaven; For half his days were pass'd at church, the other Between his tutors, confessor, and mother. L. At six, I said he was a charming child, They tamed him down amongst them: to destroy His natural spirit not in vain they toil'd, At least it seem'd so; and his mother's joy Was to declare how sage and still, and steady, Her young philosopher was grown already. LI. I had my doubts, perhaps I have them still, But what I say is neither here nor there; I knew his father well, and have some skill In character-but it would not be fair From sire to son to augur good or ill: He and his wife were an ill-sorted pairBut scandal 's my aversion-I protest Against all evil speaking, even in jest. LII. For my part I say nothing-nothing-but This I will say my reasons are my own— That if I had an only son to put To school (as God be praised that I have none) "T is not with Donna Inez I would shut Him up to learn his catechism alone; No, no-I'd send him out betimes to college, For there it was I pick'd up my own knowledge. LIII. For there one learns-'t is not for me to boast, As well as all the Greek I since have lost: I say that there's the place-but « l'erbum sat.» I think I pick'd up, too, as well as most, Knowledge of matters-but, no matter whatI never married-but I think, I know, That sons should not be educated so. LIV. Young Juan now was sixteen years of age, And every body but his mother deem'd And bit her lips (for else she might have scream'd) If any said so, for to be precocious Was in her eyes a thing the most atrocious. LV. Amongst her numerous acquaintance, all As sweetness to the flower, or salt to ocean, The darkness of her oriental eye Accorded with her Moorish origin (Her blood was not all Spanish, by the by; In Spain, you know, this is a sort of sin). When proud Granada fell, and, forced to fly, Boabdil wept, of Donna Julia's kin Some went to Africa, some stay'd in Spain, Her great great grandmamma chose to remain. LVII. She married (I forget the pedigree) With an hidalgo, who transmitted down His blood less noble than such blood should be: In that point so precise in each degree That they bred in and in, as might be shown, This heathenish cross restored the breed again, Sprung up a branch as beautiful as fresh; LIX. However this might be, the race went on Who left an only daughter; my narration Could be but Julia (whom on this occasion I shall have much to speak about), and she Was married, charming, chaste, and twenty-three. LX. Her eye (I'm fond of handsome eyes) A something in them which was not desire, LXI. Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow As if her veins ran lightning; she, in sooth, Possess'd an air and grace by no means common: Her stature tall-I hate a dumpy woman. LXII. Wedded she was some years, and to a man And now I think on 't, « mi vien in mente,>> T is a sad thing, I cannot chuse but say, But will keep baking, broiling, burning on, The flesh is frail, and so the soul undone : What men call gallantry, and gods adultery, Is much more common where the climate's sultry. LXIV. Happy the nations of the moral north! Where all is virtue, and the winter season Sends sin without a rag on, shivering forth (T was snow that brought Saint Anthony to reason); Where juries cast up what a wife is worth, By laying whate'er sum, in mulǝt, they please on The lover, who must pay a handsome price, Because it is a marketable vice. LXV. Alfonso was the name of Julia's lord, A man well looking for his years, and who Was neither much beloved nor yet abhorr'd: They lived together as most people do, Suffering each others' foibles by accord, And not exactly either one or two; Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it. LXVI. Julia was-yet I never could see why With Donna Inez quite a favourite friend; For malice still imputes some private end) And that, still keeping up the old connexion, And certainly this course was much the best: And complimented Don Alfonso's taste; |