The Works of Lord Byron Volume VI Part 52

Before they entered, Baba paused to hint To Juan some slight lessons as his guide: "If you could just contrive," he said, "to stint That somewhat manly majesty of stride, 'T would be as well, and--(though there's not much in 't) To swing a little less from side to side, Which has at times an aspect of the oddest;-- And also could you look a little modest,

XCII.

"'T would be convenient; for these mutes have eyes Like needles, which may pierce those petticoats; And if they should discover your disguise, You know how near us the deep Bosphorus floats; And you and I may chance, ere morning rise, To find our way to Marmora without boats, St.i.tched up in sacks--a mode of navigation A good deal practised here upon occasion."[298]

XCIII.

With this encouragement he led the way Into a room still n.o.bler than the last; A rich confusion formed a disarray In such sort, that the eye along it cast Could hardly carry anything away, Object on object flashed so bright and fast; A dazzling ma.s.s of gems, and gold, and glitter, Magnificently mingled in a litter.

XCIV.

Wealth had done wonders--taste not much; such things Occur in Orient palaces, and even In the more chastened domes of Western kings (Of which I have also seen some six or seven), Where I can't say or gold or diamond flings Great l.u.s.tre, there is much to be forgiven; Groups of bad statues, tables, chairs, and pictures, On which I cannot pause to make my strictures.

XCV.

In this imperial hall, at distance lay Under a canopy, and there reclined Quite in a confidential queenly way, A lady; Baba stopped, and kneeling signed To Juan, who though not much used to pray, Knelt down by instinct, wondering in his mind What all this meant: while Baba bowed and bended His head, until the ceremony ended.

XCVI.

The lady rising up with such an air As Venus rose with from the wave, on them Bent like an antelope a Paphian pair[fi]

Of eyes, which put out each surrounding gem; And raising up an arm as moonlight fair, She signed to Baba, who first kissed the hem Of her deep purple robe, and, speaking low, Pointed to Juan who remained below.

XCVII.

Her presence was as lofty as her state; Her beauty of that overpowering kind, Whose force Description only would abate: I'd rather leave it much to your own mind, Than lessen it by what I could relate Of forms and features; it would strike you blind Could I do justice to the full detail; So, luckily for both, my phrases fail.

XCVIII.

Thus much however I may add,--her years Were ripe, they might make six-and-twenty springs, But there are forms which Time to touch forbears, And turns aside his scythe to vulgar things:[fj]

Such as was Mary's, Queen of Scots; true--tears And Love destroy; and sapping Sorrow wrings Charms from the charmer, yet some never grow Ugly; for instance--Ninon de l'Enclos.[299]

XCIX.

She spake some words to her attendants, who Composed a choir of girls, ten or a dozen, And were all clad alike; like Juan, too, Who wore their uniform, by Baba chosen: They formed a very nymph-like looking crew,[300]

Which might have called Diana's chorus "cousin,"

As far as outward show may correspond-- I won't be bail for anything beyond.

C.

They bowed obeisance and withdrew, retiring, But not by the same door through which came in Baba and Juan, which last stood admiring, At some small distance, all he saw within This strange saloon, much fitted for inspiring Marvel and praise; for both or none things win; And I must say, I ne'er could see the very Great happiness of the "Nil admirari."[301]

CI.

"Not to admire is all the art I know (Plain truth, dear Murray, needs few flowers of speech)-- To make men happy, or to keep them so"

(So take it in the very words of Creech)-- Thus Horace wrote we all know long ago; And thus Pope[302] quotes the precept to re-teach From his translation; but had _none admired_, Would Pope have sung, or Horace been inspired?[303]

CII.

Baba, when all the damsels were withdrawn, Motioned to Juan to approach, and then A second time desired him to kneel down, And kiss the lady's foot; which maxim when He heard repeated, Juan with a frown Drew himself up to his full height again, And said, "It grieved him, but he could not stoop To any shoe, unless it shod the Pope."

CII.

Baba, indignant at this ill-timed pride, Made fierce remonstrances, and then a threat He muttered (but the last was given aside) About a bow-string--quite in vain; not yet Would Juan bend, though 't were to Mahomet's bride: There's nothing in the world like _etiquette_ In kingly chambers or imperial halls, As also at the Race and County b.a.l.l.s.

CIV.

He stood like Atlas, with a world of words About his ears, and nathless would not bend; The blood of all his line's Castilian lords Boiled in his veins, and, rather than descend To stain his pedigree, a thousand swords A thousand times of him had made an end; At length perceiving the "_foot_" could not stand, Baba proposed that he should kiss the hand,

CV.

Here was an honourable compromise, A half-way house of diplomatic rest, Where they might meet in much more peaceful guise; And Juan now his willingness expressed To use all fit and proper courtesies, Adding, that this was commonest and best, For through the South, the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.

CVI.

And he advanced, though with but a bad grace, Though on more _thorough-bred_[304] or fairer fingers No lips e'er left their transitory trace: On such as these the lip too fondly lingers, And for one kiss would fain imprint a brace, As you will see, if she you love shall bring hers In contact; and sometimes even a fair stranger's An almost twelvemonth's constancy endangers.

CVII.

The lady eyed him o'er and o'er, and bade Baba retire, which he obeyed in style, As if well used to the retreating trade; And taking hints in good part all the while, He whispered Juan not to be afraid, And looking on him with a sort of smile, Took leave, with such a face of satisfaction, As good men wear who have done a virtuous action.

CVIII.

When he was gone, there was a sudden change: I know not what might be the lady's thought, But o'er her bright brow flashed a tumult strange, And into her clear cheek the blood was brought, Blood-red as sunset summer clouds which range The verge of Heaven; and in her large eyes wrought, A mixture of sensations might be scanned, Of half voluptuousness and half command.

CIX.

Her form had all the softness of her s.e.x, Her features all the sweetness of the Devil, When he put on the Cherub to perplex[305]

Eve, and paved (G.o.d knows how) the road to evil; The Sun himself was scarce more free from specks Than she from aught at which the eye could cavil; Yet, somehow, there was something somewhere wanting, As if she rather _ordered_ than was _granting_.--

CX.

Something imperial, or imperious, threw A chain o'er all she did; that is, a chain Was thrown as 't were about the neck of you,-- And Rapture's self will seem almost a pain With aught which looks like despotism in view; Our souls at least are free, and 't is in vain We would against them make the flesh obey-- The spirit in the end will have its way.

CXI.

Her very smile was haughty, though so sweet; Her very nod was not an inclination; There was a self-will even in her small feet, As though they were quite conscious of her station-- They trod as upon necks; and to complete Her state (it is the custom of her nation), A poniard decked her girdle, as the sign She was a Sultan's bride (thank Heaven, not mine!).

CXII.

"To hear and to obey" had been from birth The law of all around her; to fulfil All phantasies which yielded joy or mirth, Had been her slaves' chief pleasure, as her will; Her blood was high, her beauty scarce of earth: Judge, then, if her caprices e'er stood still; Had she but been a Christian, I've a notion We should have found out the "perpetual motion."

CXIII.

Whate'er she saw and coveted was brought; Whate'er she did _not_ see, if she supposed It might be seen, with diligence was sought, And when 't was found straightway the bargain closed: There was no end unto the things she bought, Nor to the trouble which her fancies caused; Yet even her tyranny had such a grace, The women pardoned all except her face.[fk]

CXIV.

Juan, the latest of her whims, had caught Her eye in pa.s.sing on his way to sale; She ordered him directly to be bought, And Baba, who had ne'er been known to fail In any kind of mischief to be wrought, At all such auctions knew how to prevail:[fl]

She had no prudence, but he had--and this Explains the garb which Juan took amiss.