He ate, and he was well supplied: and she,Who watch'd him like a mother, would have fed Him past all bounds, because she smiled to see Such appetite in one she had deem'd dead;
But Zoe, being older than Haidee,
Knew (by tradition, for she ne'er had read)
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That famish'd people must be slowly nurst, And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst.
And so she took the liberty to state,
Rather by deeds than words, because the case Was urgent, that the gentleman, whose fate Had made her mistress quit her bed to trace
The sea-shore at this hour, must leave his plate, Unless he wish'd to die upon the place--
She snatch'd it, and refused another morsel, Saying, he had gorged enough to make a horse ill.
Next they--he being naked, save a tatter'd
Pair of scarce decent trowsers--went to work, And in the fire his recent rags they scatter'd, And dress'd him, for the present, like a Turk,
Or Greek--that is, although it not much matter'd, Omitting turban, slippers, pistols, dirk,--
They furnish'd him, entire, except some stitches, With a clean shirt, and very spacious breeches.
And then fair Haidee tried her tongue at speaking, But not a word could Juan comprehend,
Although he listen'd so that the young Greek in Her earnestness would ne'er have made an end; And, as he interrupted not, went eking
Her speech out to her protege and friend, Till pausing at the last her breath to take, She saw he did not understand Romaic.
And then she had recourse to nods, and signs, And smiles, and sparkles of the speaking eye, And read (the only book she could) the lines Of his fair face, and found, by sympathy,
The answer eloquent, where soul shines And darts in one quick glance a long reply; And thus in every look she saw exprest
A world of words, and things at which she guess'd.
And now, by dint of fingers and of eyes,
And words repeated after her, he took
A lesson in her tongue; but by surmise,
No doubt, less of her language than her look: As he who studies fervently the skies
Turns oftener to the stars than to his book, Thus Juan learn'd his alpha beta better
From Haidee's glance than any graven letter.
'T is pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue
By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean,
When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been;
They smile so when one 's right, and when one 's wrong
They smile still more, and then there intervene Pressure of hands, perhaps even a chaste kiss;-- I learn'd the little that I know by this:
That is, some words of Spanish, Turk, and Greek,
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Italian not at all, having no teachers; Much English I cannot pretend to speak,
Learning that language chiefly from its preachers,
Barrow, South, Tillotson, whom every week
I study, also Blair, the highest reachers
Of eloquence in piety and prose--
I hate your poets, so read none of those.
As for the ladies, I have nought to say,
A wanderer from the British world of fashion, Where I, like other 'dogs, have had my day,'
Like other men, too, may have had my passion-- But that, like other things, has pass'd away,
And all her fools whom I could lay the lash on: Foes, friends, men, women, now are nought to me But dreams of what has been, no more to be.
Return we to Don Juan. He begun
To hear new words, and to repeat them; but
Some feelings, universal as the sun,
Were such as could not in his breast be shut
More than within the bosom of a nun:
He was in love,--as you would be, no doubt, With a young benefactress,--so was she,
Just in the way we very often see.
And every day by daybreak--rather early
For Juan, who was somewhat fond of rest-- She came into the cave, but it was merely
To see her bird reposing in his nest;
And she would softly stir his locks so curly, Without disturbing her yet slumbering guest, Breathing all gently o'er his cheek and mouth, As o'er a bed of roses the sweet south.
And every morn his colour freshlier came, And every day help'd on his convalescence;
'T was well, because health in the human frame Is pleasant, besides being true love's essence, For health and idleness to passion's flame
Are oil and gunpowder; and some good lessons Are also learnt from Ceres and from Bacchus, Without whom Venus will not long attack us.
While Venus fills the heart (without heart really Love, though good always, is not quite so good), Ceres presents a plate of vermicelli,--
For love must be sustain'd like flesh and blood,-- While Bacchus pours out wine, or hands a jelly: Eggs, oysters, too, are amatory food;
But who is their purveyor from above
Heaven knows,--it may be Neptune, Pan, or Jove.
When Juan woke he found some good things ready,
A bath, a breakfast, and the finest eyes
That ever made a youthful heart less steady, Besides her maid's as pretty for their size; But I have spoken of all this already--
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And repetition 's tiresome and unwise,-- Well--Juan, after bathing in the sea,
Came always back to coffee and Haidee.
Both were so young, and one so innocent, That bathing pass'd for nothing; Juan seem'd To her, as 'twere, the kind of being sent,
Of whom these two years she had nightly dream'd, A something to be loved, a creature meant
To be her happiness, and whom she deem'd
To render happy; all who joy would win
Must share it,--Happiness was
