LI. Juan, who was a little superficial, And not in literature a great Drawcansir, Examined by this learned and especial Jury of matrons, scarce knew what to answer: His duties warlike, loving or official, His steady application as a dancer, Had kept him from the brink of Hippocrene, LII. However, he replied at hazard, with A modest confidence and calm assurance, (Who at sixteen translated " Hercules Furens" Into as furious English), with her best look, Set down his sayings in her common-place book. LIII. Juan knew several languages—as well He might and brought them up with skill, in time To save his fame with each accomplish'd belle, Who still regretted that he did not rhyme. There wanted but this requisite to swell His qualities (with them) into sublime : Lady Fitz-Frisky, and Miss Mævia Mannish, Both long'd extremely to be sung in Spanish. LIV. However, he did pretty well, and was The coteries, and, as in Banquo's glass, At great assemblies or in parties small, LV. In twice five years the "greatest living poet," Even I-albeit I'm sure I did not know it, The grand Napoleon of the realms of rhyme. LVI. But Juan was my Moscow, and Faliero My Leipsic, and my Mont Saint Jean seems Cain: (1) "La Belle Alliance" of dunces down at zero, Now that the Lion's fall'n, may rise again: But I will fall at least as fell my hero; Nor reign at all, or as a monarch reign; Or to some lonely isle of gaolers go, With turncoat Southey for my turnkey Lowe. (1) [See antè, Vol. XV. p. 104.] LVII. Sir Walter reign'd before me; Moore and Campbell With poets almost clergymen, or wholly; Beneath the very Reverend Rowley Powley, LVIII. (1) Then there's my gentle Euphues; who, they say, To turn out both, or either, it may be. Some persons think that Coleridge hath the sway; And Wordsworth has supporters, two or three; And that deep-mouth'd Boeotian" Savage Landor" (3) Has taken for a swan rogue Southey's gander. LIX. John Keats, who was kill'd off by one critique, If not intelligible, without Greek Contrived to talk about the gods of late, (1) [A stanza is left blank in this place in the printed copies. Mr. Murray possesses no MS. of this Canto.] " on (2) [Some Reviewer had bestowed the title of "a Moral Byron Mr. Bryan Procter, author of Dramatic Sketches,' &c. &c. all published under the name of Barry Cornwall.'] (3) [See antè, Vol. XII. p. 248.] Much as they might have been supposed to speak. (') Poor fellow! His was an untoward fate; 'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle, (2) Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article. LX. The list grows long of live and dead pretenders Their chances;-they're too numerous, like the thirty LXI. This is the literary lower empire, Where the prætorian bands take up the matter; A dreadful trade," like his who "gathers samphire," (3) The insolent soldiery to soothe and flatter, With the same feelings as you'd coax a vampire. Now, were I once at home, and in good satire, I'd try conclusions with those Janizaries, And show them what an intellectual war is. (1) [The Biographical Dictionary says,-" Being in delicate health, he was induced to try the climate of Italy, where he arrived in November, 1820, and died in the following December. His death has been attributed to the attacks of critics; but it was, in fact, owing to a consumptive complaint of long standing." Compare, however, antè, Vol. XV. p. 92.] (2) "Divinæ particulum auræ." Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade!"- Lear.] LXII. while I think I know a trick or two, would turn And even my Muse's worst reproof's a smile; And then she drops a brief and modern curtsy, And glides away, assured she never hurts ye. LXIII. My Juan, whom I left in deadly peril And henceforth found himself more gaily class'd Amongst the higher spirits of the day, The sun's true son, no vapour, but a ray. LXIV. His morns he pass'd in business-which dissected, That leads to lassitude, the most infected And talk in tender horrors of our loathing (1) "Illita Nesseo tibi texta veneno."— OVID. Epist. ix. |