And the two are so mix'd with human dust, The whole court melted into one wide whisper, As they beheld; the younger cast some leers Smiled as she talk'd the matter o'er; but tears All the ambassadors of all the powers Inquired, who was this very new young man, Who promised to be great in some few hours? Which is full soon (though life is but a span): Already they beheld the silver showers Of rubles rain, as fast as specie can, Upon his cabinet, besides the presents Of several ribands, and some thousand peasants.(1) LXXX. Catherine was generous,-all such ladies are: Above, below, by turnpikes great or small,- LXXXI. Love had made Catherine make each lover's fortune, If history, the grand liar, ever saith His answers with a very graceful bow, As if born for the ministerial trade. Though modest, on his unembarrass'd brow Nature had written "gentleman." He said Little, but to the purpose; and his manner Flung hovering graces o'er him like a banner. LXXXIV. An order from her majesty consign'd Our young lieutenant to the genial care Of those in office: all the world look'd kind (As it will look sometimes with the first stare, Which youth would not act ill to keep in mind), As also did Miss Protasoff then there, Named from her mystic office "l'Eprouveuse," A term inexplicable to the Muse. LXXXV. With her then, as in humble duty bound, And all my fancies whirling like a mill; CANTO X. I. WHEN Newton saw an apple fall, he found In that slight startle from his contemplation'Tis said (for I'll not answer above ground For any sage's creed or calculation)A mode of proving that the earth turn'd round In a most natural whirl, called "gravitation;" And this is the sole mortal who could grapple, The truth; and though grief her old age might shorten, Since Adam, with a fall, or with an apple.(3) LXXXII. But when the levee rose, and all was bustle Of gentle dames, among whose recreations Juan, who found himself, he knew not how, (1) A Russian estate is always valued by the number of the slaves upon it. (2) "Peter the Third died in July, 1762, just one week after his deposition. The real manner in which he came by his death is one of those events over which, it is probable, there will be for ever a veil impenetrable to human eyes, and known only to that Being to whom the heart is open, and from whom no secrets are concealed. The partisans that might have retained their attachment to him after his fall; the murmurs of the populace, who quietly permit revolutions to be effected, and afterwards lament those who have fallen their victims; the difficulties arising from keeping in custody a prisoner of such consequence; all these motives in conjunction tend to give credit to the opinion, II. Man fell with apples, and with apples rose, For ever since immortal man hath glow'd III. And wherefore this exordium?-Why, just now, that some hand of uncontrollable authority shortened his days. But the conduct of Catherine before that event, and especially for four-and-thirty years that she afterwards reigned, is of itself alone a sufficient refutation of so atrecious a calumny as would fix the guilt of it on her." Tooke. -L. E. (3) "The celebrated apple-tree, the fall of one of the apples of which is said to have turned the attention of Newton to the subject of gravity, was destroyed by wind about four years ago. The anecdote of the falling apple is mentioned neither by Dr. Stukeley nor by Mr. Conduit, and, as I have not been able to find any authority for it whatever, I did not feel myself at liberty to use it." Brewster's Life of Newton, p. 344.-L. E. CANTO X. And though so much inferior, as I know, To those who, by the dint of glass and vapour, Discover stars, and sail in the wind's eye, I wish to do as much by poesy. IV. In the wind's eye I have sail'd, and sail; but for Of breakers has not daunted my slight, trim, We left our hero, Juan, in the bloom Of favouritism, but not yet in the blush ;- It is enough that Fortune found him flush VI. But soon they grow again and leave their nest. "Oh!" saith the Psalmist, "that I had a dove's Pinions to flee away, and be at rest!" And who that recollects young years and loves,Though hoary now, and with a withering breast, And palsied fancy, which no longer roves [rather Beyond its dimm'd eye's sphere, but would much Sigh like his son, than cough like his grandfather? VII. But sighs subside, and tears (even widows') shrink, Like Arno in the summer, to a shallow, So narrow as to shame their wintry brink, Which threatens inundations deep and yellow! Such difference doth a few months make. You'd think Grief a rich field which never would lie fallow: No more it doth; its ploughs but change their boys, Who furrow some new soil to sow for joys. VIII. But coughs will come when sighs depart—and now Of life reach'd ten o'clock: and while a glow, IX. But Juan was not meant to die so soon. (1) See post, p. 784.-"I have read the recent article of Jeffrey. I suppose the long and the short of it is, that he wishes to provoke me to reply. But I won't, for I owe him a good turn still for his kindness by-gone. Indeed, I presume that the present opportunity of attacking me again Must come? Much rather should he court the ray, To hoard up warmth against a wintry day. X. Besides, he had some qualities which fix Middle-aged ladies even more than young: The former know what's what; while new-fledged Know little more of love than what is sung [chicks In rhymes, or dreamt (for fancy will play tricks) In visions of those skies from whence Love sprung. Some reckon women by their suns or years, I rather think the moon should date the dears. XI. And why? because she's changeable and chaste. May choose to tax me with; which is not fair, As my friend Jeffrey writes with such an air: (1) However, I forgive him, and I trust He will forgive himself;-if not, I must. XII. Old enemies who have become new friends Should so continue-'tis a point of honour; And I know nothing which could make amends For a return to hatred: I would shun her Like garlic, howsoever she extends Her hundred arms and legs, and fain outrun her. Old flames, new wives, become our bitterest foesConverted foes should scorn to join with those. XIII. This were the worst desertion:-renegadoes, Should not veer round with every breath, nor seize, The lawyer and the critic but behold The baser sides of literature and life, The lawyer's brief is like the surgeon's knife, XV. A legal broom's a moral chimney-sweeper, was irresistible; and I can't blame him, knowing what human nature is." B. Letters, June, 1822.-P. E. (2) "Reformers," or rather "Reformed." The Baron Bradwardine, in Waverley, is authority for the word. (3) Query, suit ?-Printer's Devil. XVI. And all our little feuds, at least all mine, Dear Jeffrey, once my most redoubted foe (As far as rhyme and criticism combine To make such puppets of us things below), Are over: Here's a health to "Auld Lang Syne!" I do not know you, and may never know Your face-but you have acted on the whole Most nobly, and I own it from my soul. (1) XVII. And when I use the phrase of " Auld Lang Syne!" And yet I seek not to be grand nor witty, As" Auld Lang Syne" brings Scotland, one and all, Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and clear streams, The Dee, the Don, Balgounie's brig's black wall, (3) I care not-'tis a glimpse of " Auld Lang Syne." XIX. And though, as you remember, in a fit Of wrath and rhyme, when juvenile and curly, I rail'd at Scots to show my wrath and wit, Which must be own'd was sensitive and surly, Yet 't is in vain such sallies to permit, They cannot quench young feelings fresh and early: I "scotch'd not kill'd" the Scotchman in my blood, And love the land of "mountain and of flood." (4) XX. Don Juan, who was real, or ideal, For both are much the same, since what men think Exists when the once thinkers are less real Than what they thought, for mind can never sink, (1) "This tribute to a former antagonist displays so much frankness, generosity, and manly feeling, that it must eradicate all latent remains of animosity from the bosom of any but the most rancorous and vindictive. In addition to these merits, the felicitous introduction of the poet's recollections of his boyish days renders this passage equal in poetical beauty to any that has proceeded from his pen." Campbell.-L. E. (2) "I don't like to bore you about the Scotch novels (as they call them, though two of them are English, and the rest half so); but nothing can or could ever persuade me, since I was the first ten minutes in your company, that you are not the man: to me these novels have so much of Auld lang syne' (I was bred a canny Scot till ten years old), that I never move without them." Lord B. to Sir IV. Scott, Jan. 12, 1822.-L. E. (3) The brig of Don, near the "auld toun" of Aberdeen, with its one arch, and its black deep salmon stream below, is in my memory as yesterday. I still remember, though perhaps I may misquote, the awful proverb which made me pause to cross it, and yet lean over it with a childish delight, being an only son, at least by the mother's side. The saying as recollected by me was this, but I have never heard or seen it since I was nine years of age: And 'gainst the body makes a strong appeal; And yet 't is very puzzling on the brink Of what is call'd eternity, to stare, And know no more of what is here, than there;XXI. Don Juan grew a very polish'd Russian How we won't mention, why we need not say: Few youthful minds can stand the strong concussion Of any slight temptation in their way; But his just now were spread as is a cushion Smooth'd for a monarch's seat of honour: gay The favour of the empress was agreeable; XXIII. About this time, as might have been anticipated, This we pass over. We will also pass A young lieutenant's with a not old queen, XXV. And Death, the sovereign's sovereign, though the great Gracchus of all mortality, who levels, "Brig of Balgounie, black's your wa', Wi' a wife's ae son, and a mear's ae foal, [Moore, in his Life, states the correct reading of this le gend to be as follows: (4) "Brig o' Balgounie, wight (strong) is thy wa'; Wi' a wife's ae son on a mare's ae foal, Down shalt thou fa'.”—P. E.] "Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood," etc. Lay of the Last Minstrel.-L.E. "Cordial, however, and deep as were the impressions which he retained of Scotland, he would sometimes, in this as in all his other amiable feelings, endeavour perversely to belie his own better nature; and, when under the excitement of anger or ridicule, persuade not only others, but even himself, that the whole current of his feelings ran directly otherwise. . . . A friend of his once described to me the half playful rage into which she saw him thrown one day by a heedless girl, who remarked that she thought he had a little of the Scotch accent. Good God! I hope not!' be exclaimed, 'I'm sure I have n't. I would rather the whole dd country was sunk in the sea. I the Scotch accent!'" Moore.-P. E. Which shrink from touch, as monarchs do from rhymes, In which the Neva's ice would cease to live XXXVIII. Perhaps but, sans perhaps, we need not seek As well as further drain the wither'd form: His bills in, and, however we may storm, They must be paid: though six days smoothly run, The seventh will bring blue devils or a dun. XXXIX. I don't know how it was, but he grew sick: Itself, and show'd a feverish disposition; At which the whole court was extremely troubled, The sovereign shock'd, and all his medicines doubled. XL. Low were the whispers, manifold the rumours: Some said he had been poison'd by Potemkin; Others talk'd learnedly of certain tumours, Exhaustion, or disorders of the same kin; Some said't was a concoction of the humours, Which with the blood too readily will claim kin; Others again were ready to maintain, "'T was only the fatigue of last campaign." XLI. But here is one prescription out of many: Haustus" (And here the surgeon came and cupp'd "R. Pulv. Com. gr. iij. Ipecacuanha” [him) (With more beside if Juan had not stopp'd'em). "Bolus Potassæ Sulphuret. sumendus, Et haustus ter in die capiendus." XLII. This is the way physicians mend or end us In health-when ill, we call them to attend us, To be fill'd up by spade or mattock's near, Juan demurr'd at this first notice to Quit; and though death had threaten'd an ejection, His youth and constitution bore him through, And sent the doctors in a new direction. (1) For an account of Dr. Baillie's visit to Lord Byron, see antè, p. 596.-P. E. (2) Both Dr. Baillie and John Abernethy, the great surgeon, were remarkable for plainness of speech.-L. E. (3) The empress went to the Crimea, accompanied by the But still his state was delicate: the hue Of health but flicker'd with a faint reflection Along his wasted cheek, and seem'd to gravel The faculty-who said that he must travel. XLIV. The climate was too cold, they said, for him, Who did not like at first to lose her minion: But when she saw his dazzling eye wax dim, And drooping like an eagle's with clipt pinion, She then resolved to send him on a mission, But in a style becoming his condition. XLV. There was just then a kind of a discussion, Maintain'd with all the due prevarication XLVI. So Catherine, who had a handsome way At once her royal splendour, and reward Received instructions how to play his card, Was laden with all kinds of gifts and honours, Which show'd what great discernment was the donor XLVII. But she was lucky, and luck's all. Your queen And though her dignity brook'd no complaining, So much did Juan's setting off distress her, She could not find at first a fit successor. XLVIII. But Time, the comforter, will come at last; Nor did she find the quantity encumber, XLIX. While this high post of honour's in abeyance, For one or two days, reader, we request You'll mount with our young hero the conveyance Which wafted him from Petersburgh: the best Barouche, which had the glory to display once The fair czarina's autocratic crest, When, a new Iphigene, she went to Tauris, Was given to her favourite,(3) and now bore his. Emperor Joseph, in the year-I forget which.-[The Print de Ligne, who accompanied Catherine in her prog through her southern provinces, in 1787, gives the fall" ing particulars:-"We have been traversing, during › veral days, an immense tract of deserts formerly inhabeth |