The eye might doubt if it were well awake, But Shakspeare also says 'tis very silly Haidée and Juan are amused, while at table, by dwarfs and dancing-girls, black eunuchs, and a poet, of whom I shall say nothing, Christopher, because I do not think the account is very good, but his song, I am persuaded, you will think is the very loftiest bachanalian ever penned-You will, indeed, although with a grumble, I know, allow this as if you were suffering a jerk of your rheumatism. "The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece, "The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Their place of birth alone is mute And musing there an hour alone, But one arise, we come, we come!" Fill high the cup with Samian wine! And shed the blood of Scio's vine! Hark! rising to the ignoble callHow answers each bold bacchanal ! You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one? You have the letters Cadmus gave "Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! He served but served Polycrates- "The tyrant of the Chersonese Was freedom's best and bravest friend; Oh! that the present hour would lend " Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Such as the Doric mothers bore; And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, I dream'd that Greece might still be free; The Heracleidan blood might own. For, standing on the Persians' grave, "A king sate on the rocky brow "And where are they? and where art thou, The heroic bosom beats no more! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine? "'Tis something, in the dearth of fame, To feel at least a patriot's shame, "Must we but weep o'er days more blest? "Trust not for freedom to the Franks- The only hope of courage dwells; But gazing on each glowing maid, "Place me on Sunium's marbled steep- There is a little confusion in the narrative; or perhaps it is the hurry in which I am going over it, that make me not able to trace it so clearly as might do, through digressions. Lam bro arrived while the lovers were a dinner, and we are led to suppos that he witnesses their dalliance an revelling; but it would seem that thi was not the case, for we find Haidé and Juan left alone after the banquet admiring the rosy twilight of the even ing sky. - "Tour tale. The feast was over, the slaves gone, The dwarfs and dancing girls had all retired; The Arab lore and poet's song were done, And every sound of revelry expired; The lady and her lover, left alone, The rosy flood of twilight sky admired; Ave Maria! o'er the earth and sea, That heavenliest hour of Heaven is wor thiest thee! "Ave Maria! blessed be the hour, The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft Have felt that moment in its fullest power Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, While swung the deep bell in the distant tower, Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, And not a breath crept through the rosy air, And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer. "Ave Maria! 'tis the hour of prayer! Ave Maria! 'tis the hour of love! Ave Maria! may our spirits dare Look up to thine, and to thy Son's above! Ave Maria! oh that face so fair! Those downcast eyes beneath the Almighty dove What though 'tis but a pictured image That painting is no idol, 'tis too like. Now, Christopher, after this, take thy crutch, and, with the help of Blackwood'sporter, John Lesley, crawlupthe new road along the Salisbury Craigs, on the first fine Sabbath evening, when all the west is still one broad glow of heavenly ruby; and the castle, in the middle of the view, appears like the crowned head of some great being, resting on his elbow in contemplation; repeat these verses, and I will venture to bet a plack to a bawbee, that from that hour all animosity against the wayward and unfortunate Byron will be for ever hushed in thy bosom. Even John himself will, by the mere sound of thy solemn voice of prayer, thenceforth forego the grudge that he has long borne his lordship for the many burdens he has made him bear, and, bear, melting into tears of tenderness, dry the big drops from his eyes with a corner of the same handkerchief which thou wilt apply to wipe the Ave Maria creep; And Haidée's sweet lips murmur'd like a brook A wordless music, and her face so fair Stirr'd with her dream as rose-leaves with the air; "Or as the stirring of a deep clear stream, Within the Alpine hollow, when the wind Walks over it, was she shaken by the dream, The mystical usurper of the mindO'erpowering us to be whate'er may seem Good to the soul which we no more can bind; Strange state of being! (for 'tis still to be) Senseless to feel, and with seal'd eyes to see." In this state, the ominous fancies of Haidée take at last the definite form of a regular dream, in which she sees Juan dead in a cavern. As she gazes on him, he seems to change into the resemblance of her father. Startled by the apparition, she awakes, and the first object that her eyes meet are those of the pirate sternly fixed upon herJuan is in the same moment roused by the shriek she gave. "Up Juan sprung to Haidée's bitter shriek, And caught her falling, and from off the wall Snatch'd down his sabre, in hot haste to wreak Vengeance on him who was the cause of all: Then Lambro, who till now forbore to Smiled scornfully, and said, 'Within strike dew from thine own. While Haidée and Juan were contemplating the glorious stillness of a speak, my coll. Juan replied, Not while this arm is free.' The old man's cheek grew pale, but not with dread, And drawing from his belt a pistol, he Replied, Your blood be then on your own head.' Then look'd close at the flint, as if to see 'Twas fresh, for he had lately used the lock, And next proceeded quietly to cock. "It has a strange quick jar upon the ear, That cocking of a pistol, when you know A moment more will bring the sight to bear "I said they were alike, their features and Their stature differing but in sex and years; Even to the delicacy of their hands There was resemblance, such as true blood wears; And now to see them, thus divided, stand In fix'd ferocity, when joyous tears, And sweet sensations, should have w lcomed both, Show what the passions are in their full growth." This, Christopher, you must allow, is spirited, and you will observe a curious mark of propinquity which the poet notices with respect to the hands of the father and daughter. The poet, I suspect, is indebted for the first hint of this to Ali Pashaw, who, by the bye, is the original of Lambro; for when his Lordship was introduced, with his squat friend, Cam, to that agreeablemannered tyrant, the vizier said that he knew he was the Magotos Anthropos by the smallness of his ears and hands. Don Juan is dangerously wounded, and being seized by some of the pirate's sailors, is carried from the scene. The effect on poor Haidée is deplo rable. For several days she lay insensible, and, when she awoke from her trance, she was in such a state as Mlle. Nob let is seen in the ballet of Nina. The first time you see your venison friend, the Thane of Fife, ask him if there is not some reason to suspect that Byron had her in his eye when he wrote the following description: "Afric is all the sun's, and as her earth Her human clay is kindled; full of power For good or evil, burning from its birth, The Moorish blood partakes the planet's hour, And like the soil beneath it will bring forth : Beauty and love were Haidée's mother's dower; How like they look'd! the expression was the same; Serenely savage, with a little change In the large dark eye's mutual darted flame; For she too was as one who could avenge, If cause should be a lioness, though tame: Her father's blood before her fathers's face Boil'd up, and proved her truly of his race. Terror to earth, and tempest to the air, Had held till now her soft and milky way; But overwrought with passion and despair, The fire burst forth from her Numidian veins, "Short solace, vain relief!-thought came too quick, Even as the Simoom sweeps the blasted plains." And whirl'd her brain to madness; she arose As one who ne'er had dwelt among the sick, Her's was a phrensy which disdain'd to rave, save. "Yet she betray'd at times a gleam of sense; Food she refused, and raiment; no pretence Nor time, nor skill, nor remedy, could "Twelve days and nights she wither'd Without a groan, or sigh, or glance, to show " Her handmaids tended, but she heeded A parting pang, the spirit from her past; not; And he begun a long low island song And sung of love; the fierce name struck Like mountain mists at length dissolved in rain. VOL. X. not know Don Juan in the meantime is carried aboard one of Lambro's vessels, where he is placed among a cargo of singers, who had been taken in going on from Leghorn to Sicily on a professional trip. The pirate destined them for the Constantinople slavemarket, where in due time they arrive, and Don Juan is purchased for the favourite Sultana. Baba, the eunuch who made the bargain, carries him to the palace where she resided. "Baba led Juan onward room by room Till a gigantic portal through the gloom, Warriors thereon were battling furiously; Here stalks the victor, there the vanquish'd lies; There captives led in triumph droop the eye, Andin perspective many a squadron flies; It seems the work of times before the line Of Rome transplanted fell with Constantine. "This massy portal stood at the wide close Of a huge hall, and on its either side Two little dwarfs, the least you could suppose, Were sate, like ugly imps, as if allied In mockery to the enormous gate which rose O'er them in almost pyramidic pride : The gate so splendid was in all its features, You never thought about those little creatures, "Until you nearly trod on them, and then You started back in horror to survey The wond'rous hideousness of those small men, Whose colour was not black, nor white, To ope this door, which they could really do, The hinges being as smooth as Rogers' rhymes; And now and then with tough strings of the bow, As is the custom of those eastern climes, To give some rebel Pacha a cravat; For mutes are generally used for that. "They spoke by signs-that is, not spoke at all; And looking like two incubi, they glared As Baba with his fingers made them fall Toheaving back the portal folds: it scared Juan a moment, as this pair so small With shrinking serpent optics on him stared; Baba having opened the door, Juan is introduced into a magnificent room, where wealth had done wonders, taste not much. " In this imperial hall, at distance lay Under a canopy, and there reclined Quite in a confidential queenly way, A lady; Baba stopp'd, and kneeling sign'd To Juan, who though not much used to pray, Knelt down by instinct, wondering in his mind What all this meant: while Baba bow'd and bended His head, until the ceremony ended. " The lady rising up with such an air As Venus rose with from the wave, on them Bent like an antelope a Paphian pair Of eyes, which put out each surrounding gem; And raising up an arm as moonlight fair, She sign'd to Baba, who first kiss'd the hem Of her deep-purple robe, and speaking low Pointed to Juan, who remain'd below. 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, Could I do justice to the full detail; "Something imperial, or imperious, threw A chain o'er all she did; that is, a chain Was thrown as 'twere about the neck of youAnd rapture's self will seem almost a pain With aught which looks like despotism in view; Our souls at least are free, and 'tis in vain We would against them make the flesh obeyThe spirit in the end will have its way. " Her very smile was haughty, though so sweet; Her very nod was not an inclination; These was a self-will even in her small feet, As though they were quite conscious of her station They trode as upon necks; and to complete She had seen Juan in the market, and had ordered him to be bought for her. The description of a seraglian love-making is touched with the author's gayest satire, but Juan, still quivering at the heart with the remem. brance of Haidée, is very coy to the Sul. tana, and actually bursts into tears wher she says to him, "Christian, can'st thou love." "She was a good deal shock'd; not shock' at tears, For women shed and use them at thei liking; But there is something when man's ey appears Wet, still more disagreeable and striking |