Back to their chambers, those long galleries
In the seraglio, where the ladies lay
Their delicate limbs; a thousand bosoms there
Beating for love, as the caged bird's for air.

XXVII.

I love the sex, and sometimes would reverse

The tyrant's (1) wish, "that mankind only had One neck, which he with one fell stroke might pierce:" My wish is quite as wide, but not so bad, And much more tender on the whole than fierce; It being (not now, but only while a lad) That womankind had but one rosy mouth, To kiss them all at once from North to South. XXVIII.

Oh, enviable Briareus! with thy hands

And heads, if thou hadst all things multiplied
In such proportion!-But my Muse withstands
The giant thought of being a Titan's bride,
Or travelling in Patagonian lands;

So let us back to Lilliput, and guide
Our hero through the labyrinth of love
la which we left him several lines above.

XXIX.

He went forth with the lovely Odalisques, (2)
At the given signal join'd to their array;
And though he certainly ran many risks,

Yet he could not at times keep, by the way (Although the consequences of such frisks

Are worse than the worst damages men pay In moral England, where the thing's a tax), From ogling all their charms from breasts to backs.

XXX.

Still he forgot not his disguise:-along

The galleries from room to room they walk'd, A virgin-like and edifying throng,

By eunuchs flank'd; while at their head there stalk'd A dame who kept up discipline among

The female ranks, so that none stirr'd or talk'd Without her sanction on their she-parades: Her title was "the Mother of the Maids."

XXXI.

Whether she was a "mother," I know not,
Or whether they were "maids" who call'd her
But this is her seraglio title, got
[mother;

I know not how, but good as any other;
io Cantemir (3) can tell you, or De Tott: (4)
Her office was, to keep aloof or smother
ill bad propensities in fifteen hundred

Toung women, and correct them when they blunder'd.

XXXII.

goodly sinecure, no doubt! but made More easy by the absence of all men— xcept his majesty,-who, with her aid,

And guards, and bolts, and walls, and now and then

(D) Caligula-see Suetonius. "Being in a rage at the exple, for favouring a party in the Circensian games in opsition to him, he cried out, 'I wish the Roman people had at one neck."-L. E.

2) The ladies of the seraglio.-L. E.

3) Demetrius Cantemir, a prince of Moldavia, whose History of the Growth and Decay of the Ottoman Empire as translated into English by Tyndal. He died in 1723. -LE.

A slight example, just to cast a shade

Along the rest, contrived to keep this den Of beauties cool as an Italian convent, Where all the passions have, alas! but one vent. XXXIII.

And what is that? Devotion, doubtless-how Could you ask such a question?—but we will Continue. As I said, this goodly row

Of ladies of all countries at the will Of one good man, with stately march and slow, Like water-lilies floating down a rill— Or rather lake-for rills do not run slowly,Paced on most maiden-like and melancholy. XXXIV.

But when they reach'd their own apartments, there, Like birds, or boys, or bedlamites broke loose, Waves at spring-tide, or women any where

When freed from bonds (which are of no great use After all), or like Irish at a fair,

Their guards being gone, and as it were a truce Establish'd between them and bondage, they Began to sing, dance, chatter, smile, and play.

XXXV.

Their talk, of course, ran most on the new-comer;
Her shape, her hair, her air, her every thing:
Some thought her dress did not so much become her,
Or wonder'd at her ears without a ring;
Some said her years were getting nigh their summer,
Others contended they were but in spring;
Some thought her rather masculine in height,
While others wish'd that she had been so quite.

XXXVI.

But no one doubted, on the whole, that she
Was what her dress bespoke, a damsel fair,
And fresh, and "beautiful exceedingly," (5)
Who with the brightest Georgians (6) might compare:
They wonder'd how Gulbeyaz, too, could be

So silly as to buy slaves who might share
(If that his Highness wearied of his bride)
Her throne and power, and every thing beside.

XXXVII.

But what was strangest in this virgin crew,
Although her beauty was enough to vex,
After the first investigating view,

They all found out as few, or fewer, specks
In the fair form of their companion new,
Than is the custom of the gentle sex,
When they survey, with Christian eyes or Heathen,
In a new face "the ugliest creature breathing."

XXXVIII.

And yet they had their little jealousies,

Like all the rest; but upon this occasion, Whether there are such things as sympathies Without our knowledge or our approbation,

(4) Memoirs of the State of the Turkish Empire, 1785.— L. E.

(5) "I guess, 't was frightful there to see A lady so richly clad as she

Beautiful exceedingly." Coleridge's Christabel.-L. E. (6) "It is in the adjacent climates of Georgia, Mingrelia, and Circassia, that nature has placed, at least to our eyes, the model of beauty, in the shape of the limbs, the colour of

Although they could not see through his disguise,
All felt a soft kind of concatenation,
Like magnetism, or devilism, or what
You please we will not quarrel about that:
XXXIX.

But certain 't is they all felt for their new

Companion something newer still, as 't were A sentimental friendship through and through, Extremely pure, which made them all concur In wishing her their sister, save a few

Who wish'd they had a brother just like her, Whom, if they were at home in sweet Circassia, They would prefer to Padisha (1) or Pacha.

XL.

Of those who had most genius for this sort
Of sentimental friendship, there were three,
Lolah, Katinka, (2) and Dudù; in short,

(To save description) fair as fair can be Were they, according to the best report,

Though differing in stature and degree,

And clime and time, and country and complexion; They all alike admired their new connection.

XLI.

Lolah was dusk as India and as warm;

Katinka was a Georgian, (3) white and red, With great blue eyes, a lovely hand and arm, And feet so small they scarce seem'd made to tread, But rather skim the earth; while Dudu's form Look'd more adapted to be put to bed, Being somewhat large, and languishing, and lazy, Yet of a beauty that would drive you crazy.

XLII.

A kind of sleepy Venus seem'd Dudù,

Yet very fit to "murder sleep" in those Who gazed upon her cheek's transcendent hue, Her Attic forehead, and her Phidian nose: Few angles were there in her form, 'tis true,

Thinner she might have been, and yet scarce lose, Yet, after all, 't would puzzle to say where It would not spoil some separate charm to pare. XLIII.

She was not violently lively, but

Stole on your spirit like a May-day breaking;
Her eyes were not too sparkling, yet, half-shut,

They put beholders in a tender taking;
She look'd (this simile's quite new) just cut
From marble, like Pygmalion's statue waking,
The mortal and the marble still at strife,
And timidly expanding into life.

XLIV.

Lolah demanded the new damsel's name"Juanna."-Well, a pretty name enough. Katinka ask'd her also whence she came-"From Spain."—"But where is Spain?"—"Don't ask such stuff,

the skin, the symmetry of the features, and the expression of the countenance: the men are formed for action, the wo men for love." Gibbon.-L. E.

(1) Padisha is the Turkish title of the Grand Signior.L. E.

(2) Katinka was the name of the youngest of the three girls, at whose house Lord Byron resided while at Athens, in 1810.-L. E.

Nor show your Georgian ignorance-for shame!"
Said Lolah, with an accent rather rough,
To poor Katinka: "Spain's an island near
Morocco, betwixt Egypt and Tangier.”

XLV.

Dudù said nothing, but sat down beside
Juanna, playing with her veil or hair;
And looking at her steadfastly, she sigh'd,
As if she pitied her for being there,
A pretty stranger without friend or guide,

And all abash'd, too, at the general stare Which welcomes hapless strangers in all places, With kind remarks upon their mien and faces. XLVI.

But here the Mother of the Maids drew near,
With, "Ladies, it is time to go to rest.
I'm puzzled what to do with you, my dear,"
She added to Juanna, their new guest:
"Your coming has been unexpected here,

And every couch is occupied; you had best
Partake of mine; but by to-morrow early
We will have all things settled for you fairly."

She took Juanna by the hand to show

Their place of rest, and left to both their piques The others, pouting at the matron's preference Of Dudu, tho' they held their tongues from deference. LI.

It was a spacious chamber (Oda is

The Turkish title), and ranged round the wall
Were couches, toilets-and much more than this
I might describe, as I have seen it all,
But it suffices-little was amiss;

T was on the whole a nobly-furnish'd hall,
With all things ladies want, save one or two,
And even those were nearer than they knew.

But still the spouseless virgin Knowledge flies.
What are we? and whence came we? what shall be
Our ultimate existence! what's our present?
Are questions answerless, and yet incessant.
LXIV.

There was deep silence in the chamber: dim
And distant from each other burn'd the lights,
And slumber hover'd o'er each lovely limb

[trim,

Of the fair occupants: if there he sprites, They should have walk'd there in their sprightliest By way of change from their sepulchral sites, And shown themselves as ghosts of better taste Than haunting some old ruin or wild waste. LXV.

Many and beautiful lay those around,

Like flowers of different hue, and clime, and root, In some exotic garden sometimes found,

With cost, and care, and warmth induced to shoot. One with her auburn tresses lightly bound,

And fair brows gently drooping, as the fruit Nods from the tree, was slumbering with soft breath, And lips apart, which show'd the pearls beneath.

LXVI.

One with her flush'd cheek laid on her white arm, And raven ringlets gather'd in dark crowd Above her brow, lay dreaming soft and warm;

And smiling through her dream, as through a cloud The moon breaks, half unveil'd each further charm, As, slightly stirring in her snowy shroud, Her beauties seized the unconscious hour of night All bashfully to struggle into light.

LXVII.

This is no bull, although it sounds so; for

"T was night, but there were lamps, as hath been said. A third's all pallid aspect offer'd mor

The traits of sleeping sorrow, and betray'd Through the heaved breast the dream of some far shore Beloved and deplored; while slowly stray'd (As night-dew, on a cypress glittering, tinges The black bough) tear-drops thro' her eyes' dark fringes. LXVIII.

A fourth as marble, statue-like and still,

Lay in a breathless, hush'd, and stony sleep; White, cold, and pure, as looks a frozen rill,

Or the snow minaret on an Alpine steep,

Or Lot's wife done in salt,-or what you will;—
My similes are gather'd in a heap,
So pick and choose-perhaps you'll be content
With a carved lady on a monument.

LXIX.

And lo! a fifth appears;-and what is she?
A lady of "a certain age," which means
Certainly aged-what her years might be

I know not, never counting past their teens;
But there she slept, not quite so fair to see,
As ere that awful period intervenes
Which lays both men and women on the shelf,
To meditate upon their sins and self.

LXX.

But all this time how slept, or dream'd, Dudu? With strict inquiry I could ne'er discover,

And scorn to add a syllable untrue;

But ere the middle watch was hardly over, Just when the fading lamps waned dim and blue,

And phantoms hover'd, or might seem to hover, To those who like their company, about The apartment, on a sudden she scream'd out: LXXI.

And that so loudly, that upstarted all

The Oda, in a general commotion: Matron and maids, and those whom you may call Neither, came crowding like the waves of ocean, One on the other, throughout the whole hall,

All trembling, wondering, without the least notion More than I have myself of what could make The calm Dudù so turbulently wake.

LXXII.

But wide awake she was, and round her bed,
With floating draperies and with flying hair,
With eager eyes, and light but hurried tread,
And bosoms, arms, and ankles glancing bare,
And bright as any meteor ever bred

By the North Pole,-they sought her cause of care, For she seem'd agitated, flush'd, and frighten'd, Her eye dilated and her colour heighten'd.

LXXIII.

But what is strange-and a strong proof how great
A blessing is sound sleep-Juanna lay
As fast as ever husband by his mate

In holy matrimony snores away.
Not all the clamour broke her happy state

Of slumber, ere they shook her, so they say
At least, and then she, too, unclosed her eyes,
And yawn'd a good deal with discreet surprise.
LXXIV.

And now commenced a strict investigation,
Which, as all spoke at once, and more than once
Conjecturing, wondering, asking a narration,
Alike might puzzle either wit or dunce
To answer in a very clear oration.

Dudu had never pass'd for wanting sense,
But, being "no orator as Brutus is,"
Could not at first expound what was amiss.
LXXV.

At length she said, that in a slumber sound

She dream'd a dream, of walking in a woodA "wood obscure," like that where Dante found 1) Himself in at the age when all grow good; Life's half-way house, where dames with virtue crown'd

Run much less risk of lovers turning rude; And that this wood was full of pleasant fruits, And trees of goodly growth and spreading roots; LXXVI.

And in the midst a golden apple grew,

A most prodigious pippin-but it hung Rather too high and distant; that she threw Her glances on it, and then, longing, flung Stones and whatever she could pick up, to Bring down the fruit, which still perversely clung To its own hough, and dangled yet in sight, But always at a most provoking height;— (1) "Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura," etc. Dante, Inferno