 Don Jewan by Lord Byron, read by Peter Gallagher. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Canto 1 Part 1 I want a hero. An uncommon want when every year and month sends forth a new one until after clawing the gazettes with Kant the age discovers he is not the true one. Of such as these I should not care to vaunt. I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Jewan. We've all seen him in the pantomime. Sent to the devil, somewhat air his time. Vernon The butcher Cumberland Wolf, Hawk Prince Ferdinand, Granby Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe Evil and good have had their tithes of talk and filled their signposts then, like Wellesley now. Each in their turn, like Banquet's monarchs stalk, followers of fame, nine pharaohs of that sour, France too had Bonaparte and Dumaurier, recorded in the monitor and courier. Banave, Brisseau, Condorcet, Mirabeau, Pétion, Cloutes, Danton, Marat, Lafayette were French and famous people, as we know. And there were others, scarce forgotten yet. Dubet, Hosh, Marceau, Lan, Dessay, Moreau, with many of the military set, exceedingly remarkable at times. But not at all adapted to my rhymes. Nelson was once Britannia's god of war and still should be so, but the tide has turned. There's no more to be said of Trafalgar, it is with our hero quietly and earned, because the army's grown more popular, at which the navel people are concerned, besides the prince is all for the land service, forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe and Gervus. Brave men were living before Agamemnon and since, exceeding valorous and sage, a good deal like him too, though quite the same nun, but then they shone not on the poet's page and so have been forgotten. I condemn none, but can't find any in the present age fit for my poem, that is, for my new one. So as I said, I'll take my friend Don Dewan. Most epic poets plunge in medius rees. Horus makes this the heroic turnpike road and then your hero tells, When are you please, what went before, by way of episode, while seated after dinner at his ease, beside his mistress, in some soft abode, palace or garden, paradise or cavern, which serves the happy couple for a tavern. That is the usual method, but not mine. My way is to begin with the beginning. The regularity of my design forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning and therefore I shall open with a line, although it cost me half an hour in spinning, narrating somewhat of Don Dewan's father and also of his mother, if you'd rather. In Seville was he born. A pleasant city, famous for oranges and women, he who has not seen it will be much to pity, so says the proverb and I quite agree. Of all the Spanish towns, none is more pretty. Cades, perhaps, but that you soon may see. Don Dewan's parents lived beside the river. A noble stream and called the Guadalquiva. His father's name was Jose, Don, of course, a true Hidalgo free from every strain of Moro-Hebrew blood. He traced his source through the most gothic gentleman of Spain. A better Cavalier near Mounted Horse, or being Mounted Air got down again than Jose, who begot our hero who begot, but that's to come. Well to renew, his mother was a learned lady, famed for every branch of every science known in every Christian language ever named. With virtues equaled by her wit alone, she made the cleverest people quite ashamed and even the good within would envy grown, finding themselves so very much exceeded in their own way by all the things that she did. Her memory was a mine. She knew by heart all Calderon and the greater part of Lopez, so that of any actor missed his part, she could have served him for the prompter's copy. For her finagles were in useless art, and he himself obliged to shut up shop. He could never make a memory so fine as that which adorned the brain of Donna Ines. Her favorite science was the mathematical. Her noblest virtue was her magnanimity. Her wit, she sometimes tried at wit, was atical. Her serious sayings darkened to sublimity in short. In all things, she was fairly what I call a prodigy. Her morning dress was dimity, her evening silk, or in the summer muslin, and other stuffs with which I won't stay puzzling. She knew the Latin, that is the Lord's Prayer, and Greek, the alphabet, I'm nearly sure. She read some French romances here and there, although her mode of speaking was not pure. For native Spanish, she had no great care. At least her conversation was obscure. Her thoughts were theorems. Her words are problem, as if she deemed that mystery would ennoble them. She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue, and said there was an allergy between them. She proved it somehow, out of sacred song, but I must leave the proof to those who've seen them. But this I heard her say, and can't be wrong, and all may think which way their judgments lean them. To strange the Hebrew noun, which means I am, English always used to govern, damn. Some women use their tongues. She looked a lecture. Each eye a sermon at her brow a homily, an all-in-all sufficient self-director, like the lamented late Sir Samuel Romely, the law's expounder and the state's corrector, whose suicide was almost an anomaly. One sad example more, that all is vanity. The jury bought their verdict in, insanity. In short, she was a walking calculation. Miss Edgeworth's novel, stepping from their covers, or Mrs. Trimmer's books on education, or Caleb's wife set out in quest of lovers. Morality's prim personification, in which, not envy's self, a flaw discovers. To others share, let female errors fall, for she had not even won. The worst of all. She was perfect, past all parallel of any modern female saint's comparison. So far above the cunning powers of hell, her guardian angel had given up his garrison. Even her minutest motions went as well as those of the best timepiece made by Harrison. In virtues, nothing earthly could surpass her, save thine incomparable oil, Maccassa. Perfect she was. But as perfection is insipid in this naughty world of ours, where our first parents never learned to kiss, till they were exiled from their earlier bars, where all was peace and innocence and bliss, I wonder how they got through the twelve hours. Don Jose, like a lineal son of Eve, went plucking various fruit without her leave. He was a mortal of the careless kind, with no great love for learning or the learned, who chose to go where he had a mind, and never dreamed his lady was concerned. The world, as usual, wickedly inclined to see a kingdom or a house or turned, whispered he had a mistress. Some said two. But for domestic quarrels one will do. Now Donna Ines had with all her merit a great opinion of her own good qualities. Neglect indeed requires a saint to bear it, and such indeed she was in her moralities, but then she had the devil of a spirit, and sometimes mixed up fancies with realities, and let few opportunities escape of getting her liege lord into a scrape. This was an easy matter with a man often the wrong, and never on his guard. And even the wisest do the best they can, have moments, hours and days, so unprepared that you might brain them with their lady's fan. And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard, and fans turn into falchions in fair hands. And why, and wherefore, no one understands. Tis pity learned virgins ever wed with persons of no sort of education, or gentlemen, who though well-born and bred, grow tired of scientific conversation. I don't choose to say much upon this head, I'm a plain man, and in single station. But oh ye lords of ladies intellectual, informus truly, have they not henpectual? Don Jose and his lady quarrelled. Why, not any of them any could divine, though several thousand people chose to try, to surely no concern of theirs, nor mine. I loathe that low vice curiosity. But if there's anything in which I shined, as in arranging all my friends affairs, not having of my own domestic cares, and so I interfered, and with the best intentions. But their treatment was not kind. I think the foolish people were possessed, for neither of them could I ever find, although their porter afterwards confessed, but that's no matter, and the worst behind, for little Jewen or me threw downstairs a pail of housemaids' waters, unawares. A little curly-headed, good-for-nothing, and mischief-making monkey from his birth. His parents ne'er agreed, except in doting upon the most unquiet imp on earth. Instead of quarrelling, had they been but both in their senses, they'd have sent young master forth to school, or had him soundly whipped at home to teach him manners for the time to come. Don Jose and the Donna Ines led for some time an unhappy sort of life, wishing each other not divorced, but dead. They lived respectively as man and wife. Their conduct was exceedingly well-bred, and gave no outward sign of inward strife, until at length the smothered fire broke out, and put the business past all kind of doubt, for Ines called some druggists and physicians, and tried to prove her loving-lord was mad. But as he had some lucid intermission, she next decided he was only bad. Yet when they asked her for her depositions, no sort of explanation could be had, save that her duty both to man and god required this conduct. Which seemed very odd. She kept a journal where his faults were noted, and opened certain trunks of books and letters, all which might, if occasion, served be quoted. And then she had all sevile forebetters, besides her good-old grandmother, who doted. The hearers of her case became repeaters, then advocates, inquisitors and judges, some for amusement, others for old grudges. And then this best and weakest woman bore with such serenity her husband's woes. Just as the Spartan ladies did of yore, who saw their spouses killed, and nobly chose never to say a word about them more. Calmly she heard each calamity that rose and saw his agonies with such sublimity that all the world exclaimed, what magnanimity. No doubt this patience when the world is damning us is philosophic in our former friends, it is also pleasant to be deemed magnanimous, and them also in obtaining our own ends. And what the lawyers call a malice animus conduct like this by no means comprehends. Revenge in person certainly no virtue, but then it is not my fault, if others hurt you. And if your quarrels should rip up old stories and help them with a lie or two additional, I'm not to blame. As you well know, no more is anyone else. They will become traditional. Besides, their resurrection aids our glories by contrast, which is just what we were wishing all, and science profits by this resurrection. Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection. Their friends had tried at reconciliation, then their relations, who made matters worse, to hide to tell upon a like occasion to whom it may be best to have recourse. I can't say much for friend or yet relation. The lawyers did their utmost for divorce, but scarce of fee was paid on either side before, unluckily, Don Jose died. He died. And most unluckily, because according to all hints I could collect from council learned in those kinds of laws, although their talks obscure and circumspect, his death contrived to spoil a charming cause. A thousand pities, also with respect to public feelings, which on this occasion was manifested in a great sensation. But ah, he died. And buried with him lay the public feeling and the lawyer's fees. His house was sold, his servants sent away. A Jew took one of his two mistresses, a priest the other, at least so they say. I asked the doctors after his disease. He died of the slow fever called the tertian, and left his widow to her owner version. Yet Jose was an honorable man. That I must say who knew him well. Therefore his frailties I'll no further scan. Indeed there were not many more to tell, and if his passions now and then outran discretion and were not so peaceable as numers, who was also named Pompilius, he had been ill-bought up and was born bilious. Whatever might be his worthlessness or worth poor fellow, he had many things to wound him. Let's own, since it can do no good on earth, it was a trying moment that which found him standing alone beside his desolate hearth, where all his household gods lay shivered round him. No choice was left his feelings or his pride. Saved death or doctors' commons. So he died. Don Jewan by Lord Byron. Canto 1, Part 2, read by Peter Gallagher for LibriVox.org. Dying in Testet, Jewan was sole heir to a chancery suit and messengers and lands which, with a long minority and care, promised to turn out well in proper hands. Ines became sole guardian, which was fair, and answered but to nature's just demands, an only son left with an only mother is bought up much more wisely than another. Sages of women, even of widows, she resolved that Jewan should be quite a paragon and worthy of the noblest degree – Sire was old Castile, his dam from Aragon. Then, for accomplishments of chivalry, in case our Lord the King should go to war again, he learned the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, and how to scale a fortress. Or a nunnery. But that which Don Ines most desired and saw into herself each day before all the learned tutors whom for him she hired was that his breeding should be strictly moral. Much into all his studies she inquired and so they were submitted first to her all arts, sciences. No branch was made a mystery to Jewan's eyes, accepting natural history. The languages, especially the dead, the sciences, and most of all the Obstruse, the arts, at least all such as could be said to be the most remote from common use, in all these he was much and deeply read. But not a page of anything that's loose or hints continuation of the species was ever suffered, lest he should grow vicious. His classic studies made a little puzzle, because of filthy loves of gods and goddesses who in the earlier ages raised a bustle but never put on pantaloons or bodices. His reverend tutors had at times a tussle and for their Aenids, Iliads, and Odyssey's were forced to make an odd sort of apology for Don Ines dreaded the mythology. Ovid's a rake as half his verses show him. Anachronian's morals are a still worse sample. Catullus scarcely has a decent poem. I don't think Sappho's owed a good example, although Longinus tells us there is no him where the sublime soars forth on wings more ample. But Virgil's songs are pure, except that horrid one beginning with Formosum past or Corridon. Lucretius's irreligion is too strong for early strummocks to prove wholesome food. I can't help thinking Juvenal was wrong, although no doubt his real intent was good for speaking out so plainly in his song. So much indeed as to be downright rude. And then what proper person could be partial to all those nauseous epigrams of Marshall? Jewin was taught from out the best edition, expurgated by learned men who placed judiciously from out the schoolboy's vision the grosser parts. But fearful to deface too much their modest bard by this omission and pitting sore his mutilated case, they only add them all in an appendix. Which saves, in fact, the trouble of an index. For there we have them all at one fell swoop. Instead of being scattered through the pages, they stand forth marshalled in a handsome troop to meet the ingenious youth of future ages, till some less rigid editor shall stoop to call them back into their separate cages instead of standing, staring all together, like garden gods. And not so decent, either. The missile, too, it was the family missile, was ornamented in a sort of way which ancient mass books often are, and this all kinds of grotesque illumined, and how they who saw those figures on the margin kiss all could turn their optics into text and pray is more than I know. But Don June's mother kept this herself and gave her son another. Sermons he read, and lectures he endured, and homilies and lives of all the saints. To Jerome and Chrysostom endued, he did not take such studies for restraints. But how faith is acquired and then ensured so well not one of the aforesaid paints is St. Augustine in his fine confessions, which makes the reader envy his transgressions. This, too, was a sealed book to little June, but I can't but say his mama was right if such an education was the true one. She scarcely trusted him from out her sight. Her maids were old, and if she took a new one you might be sure she was a perfect fright. She did this during even her husband's life. I recommend as much to every wife. Young June waxed in goodliness and grace at six a charming child, and at eleven with all the promise of his finer face as heir to man's mature growth was given. He studied steadily and grew apace and seemed at least in the right road to heaven for half his days were passed in church, the other between his tutors, confessor, and mother. At six I said he was a charming child. At twelve he was a fine but quiet boy, though in infancy a little while they tamed him down amongst them to destroy his natural spirit, not in vain they toiled, at least it seemed so, and his mother's joy was to declare how sage and still and steady her young philosopher was grown already. I had my doubts. Perhaps I have them still, but what I say is neither he nor there. I knew his father well and have some skill in character, but it would not be fair from sire to son to augur good or ill. He and his wife were manual-sorted pair, but scandals my aversion. I protest against all evil speaking, even in jest. For my part I say nothing, nothing but this I will say, my reasons are my own, that if I had an only son to put to school, as God be praised that I have none, it is not with Donna Ines I would shut him up to learn his catechism alone. No. No I'd send him out but times to college. For there it was, I picked up my own knowledge. For there one learns, it is not for me to boast, though I acquired, but I pass over that. As well as all the Greek I since have lost, I say there's the place, but verbem sat. I think I picked up too, as well as most knowledge of matters, but no matter what, I never married. But I think I know that sons should not be educated so. Young Dewan now was 16 years of age, tall, handsome, slender, but well-knit, he seemed active, though not so sprightly as a page, and everybody but his mother deemed him almost man. But she flew in a rage and bit her lips, for else she might have screamed if any said so, for doobie precocious was in her eyes a thing the most atrocious. This recording is in the public domain. Don Dewan by Lord Byron. Canto 1, Part 3, read by Peter Gallagher for LibriVox.org. Amongst her numerous acquaintance, all selected for discretion and devotion, there was the Donna Julia, whom to call pretty were about to give a feeble notion of many charms and her as natural, as sweetness to the flower, or salt to ocean, her zone to Venus or his bow to Cupid. But this last simile is trite and stupid. The darkness of her orient lie accorded with her Moorish origin. Her blood was not all Spanish, by the by. In Spain, you know, this is a sort of sin. When Prad Granada fell and forced to fly, Boabdil wept. Of Donna Julia's kin, some went to Africa, some stayed in Spain. Her great-great-grandmama chose to remain. She married, I forget the degree, with an Hidalgo who transmitted down his blood less noble than such blood should be. At such alliances, his sires would frown in that point so precise in each degree that they bred in and in, as might be shown, marrying their cousins, their aunts and nieces, which always spoils the breed if it increases. This heathenish cross restored the breed again, ruined its blood, but much improved its flesh, fraught from a root the ugliest in all Spain sprung up a branch as beautiful as fresh. The sons no more were short the daughter's plain, but there's a rumour which I feign would hush to say that Donna Julia's grandmother produced her don more heirs at love than law. However, this might be the race went on improving still through every generation until it centered in an only son who left an only daughter. My narration may have suggested that this single one could be but Julia, whom on this occasion I shall have much to speak about and she was married, charming, chaste and 23. Her eye, I'm very fond of handsome eyes, was large and dark, suppressing half its fire until she spoke and then through its soft disguise flashed an expression more of pride than ire and love than either and they would arise as something in them which was not desire but would have been perhaps but for the soul which struggled through and chasen down the hall. Her glossy hair was clustered or a brow bright with intelligence and fair and smooth her eyebrow shape was like the aerial bow her cheek all purple with the beam of youth mounting her transparent glow as if her veins ran lightning. She and Soothe possessed an air and grace by no means common her stature tall I hate a dumpy woman wedded she was some years and to a man of fifty and such husbands are in plenty and yet I think instead of such a one to a better to have two of five and twenty especially in countries near the sun and Mi Vien in Menti ladies of even the most uneasy virtue prefer a spouse whose age is short of thirty. It is a sad thing I cannot choose to say and all the fault of that indecent son who cannot leave alone ire hopeless clay but will keep baking broiling burning on that how so ever people fast and pray the flesh is frail and so the soul undone. What men call gallantry and gods adultery is much more common with the climate sultry. Happy the nations of the moral north where all is virtue and the winter seasons in sin without a rag on shivering forth to a snow that bought St. Anthony to reason where jewellery is cast up what a wife is worth by laying what airs some in malt they please on the lover who must pay a handsome price because it is a marketable vice. Alfonso was the name of Julia's lord a man well looking for his years and who was neither much beloved nor yet aboard. They lived together as most people do suffering each other's foibles by a cord and not exactly either one or two yet he was jealous though he did not show it for jealousy dislikes the world to know it. Julia was yet I could never see why with Donna Ines quite a favourite friend between their tastes there was small sympathy for not a line Julia ever penned some people whisper but no doubt they lie for Malice still imputes some private end that Ines had aired on Alfonso's marriage forgot with him her very prudent carriage and that still keeping up the old connection which time had lately rendered much more chaste she took his lady also in affection and certainly this course was much the best. She flattered Julia with her sage protection and complimented Donna Alfonso's taste and if she could not who can silent scandal at least she left it a more slender handle I can't tell whether Julia saw the affair with other people's eyes or if her own discoveries made but none could be aware of this at least no symptom here was shown perhaps she did not know or did not care indifferent from the first or callous grown I'm really puzzled what to think or say she kept her council in so close away June she saw and as a pretty child caressed him often such a thing might be quite innocently done and harmless stiled when she had 20 years and 13 he but I'm not so sure I should have smiled when he was 16 Julia 23 these few short years make wondrous alterations particularly among the sunburnt nations what either cause might be they had become changed for the dame grew distant the youth shy their looks cast down their greetings almost dumb and much embarrassment in either eye there surely will be little doubt with some that Donna Julia knew the reason why but as for June he had no more notion than he who never saw the sea of ocean yet Julia's very coldness still was kind and tremulously gentle her small hand withdrew itself from his but left behind a little pressure thrilling and so bland and slight so very slight that to the mind was but a doubt but near magicians wand wrought change with all I meaners fairy art like what this light touch left on June's heart and if she met him though she smiled or she looked a sadness sweeter than her smile as if her heart had deeper thoughts in store she must not own but cherished more the while for that compression in its burning core even innocence itself has many a while and will not dare to trust itself with truth and love is taught hypocrisy from youth but passion most assembles yet betrays even by its darkness black as sky for tells the heaviest tempest it displays its working through the vainly guarded eye and in whatever aspect it arrays itself to still the same hypocrisy coldness or anger even disdain or hate a mask sit often wears and still too late then there was sighs the deeper for suppression and stolen glances sweeter for the theft and burning blushes though for no transgression trembling when met and restlessness when left all these are little preludes to possession of which young passion cannot be bereft and merely tend to show how greatly love is embarrassed at first starting with a novice poor Julia's heart was in an awkward state she felt it going and resolved to make the noblest efforts for herself and mate for honours, prides, religions virtue's sake her resolutions were most truly great and almost might have made a tarquin quake she prayed the Virgin Mary for her grace as being the best judge of a lady's case she vowed she never would see Jewynne Moore and next day paid a visit to his mother and looked extremely at the opening door which by the Virgin's grace let in another grateful she was and yet a little sore again it opens it can be no other and now no I'm afraid that night the Virgin was no further prayed she now determined that a virtuous woman should rather face and overcome temptation that flight was base and dastardly and no man should ever give her heart the least sensation that is to say a thought beyond the common preference that we must field upon occasion for people who are pleasanter than others but then they only seem so many brothers and even if by chance and who can tell the devil so very sly she should discover that all within was not so very well and if still free that such or such a lover might please perhaps a virtuous wife can quell such thoughts and be the better when they're over and if the man should ask it is but denial I recommend young ladies to make trial and then there are such things as love divine bright and immaculate unmixed and pure such as the angels think so very fine and matrons who would be no less secure platonic perfect just such love as mine thus Julia said and thought so to be sure and so I'd have her think were I the man on whom her reverie celestial ran such love is innocent and may exist between young persons without any danger a hand may first and then a lip be kissed for my part to such doings I'm a stranger but here these freedoms form the utmost list of all or which such love may be a ranger if people go beyond it is quite a crime but not my fault I tell them all in time love then but love within its proper limits was Julia's innocent determination in young Don John's favor and to him its version might be useful on occasion and lighted at too pure a shrine to dim its ethereal luster with what sweet persuasions he might be taught by love and her together I really don't know what nor Julia either fraught with his fine intention and well fenced in mail of proof her purity of soul she for the future of her strength convinced and that her honor was a rock or mole exceeding sagely from that hour dispensed with any kind of troublesome control but whether Julia to the task was equal is that which must be mentioned in the sequel her plan she deemed both innocent and feasible and surely with a stripling of sixteen not scandals fangs could fix on much that's or if they did so satisfied to me nothing but what was good her breast was peaceable a quiet conscience makes one so serene Christians have burnt each other quite persuaded that all the Apostles would have done as they did and if in the meantime her husband died but heaven forbid that such a thought should cross her brain though in a dream and then she sighed never could she survive that common loss but just suppose that moment should be tied I only say suppose it it's an os this should be entre new for Julia thought in French but then the rhyme would go for naught I only say suppose this supposition Jewen being then grown up to man's estate would fully suit a widow of condition even seven years hence it would not be too late and in the interim to pursue this vision the mischief after all could not be great for he would learn the rudiments of love I mean the serif ways of those above this recording is in the public domain Don Jewen by Lord Byron canto one part four read by Peter Gallagher for LibriVox.org so much for Julia now we'll turn to Jewen poor little fellow he had no idea of his own case and never hit the true one in feelings quick as Ovid's Miss Medea he puzzled over what he found a new one but not as yet imagined it could be thing quite in course and not at all alarming which with a little patience might grow charming silent and pensive idle restless slow his home deserted for the lonely wood tormented with a wound he could not know his like all deep grief plunged in solitude I'm fond myself of solitude or so but then I beg it may be understood by solitude I mean assaultons not a hermits for a grot oh love in such a wilderness as this where transport and security entwine here is the empire of thy perfect bliss and here thou art a god indeed divine the bard I quote from does not sing amiss with the exception of the second line for that same twining transport and security are twisted to a phrase of some obscurity the poet meant no doubt and thus appeals to the good sense and senses of mankind the very thing which everybody feels as all have found on trial or may find that no one likes to be disturbed at meals or love I won't say more about entwined or transport as we knew all that before but beg security will bolt the door young jewellin wandered by the glassy brooks thinking unutterable things he threw himself at length within the leafy nooks where the wild branch of the cork forest grew their poets find material for their books and every now and then we read them through so that their plan and prosody are eligible unless like Wordsworth they prove unintelligible he, jewellin and not Wordsworth so pursued his self communion with his own high soul until his mighty heart and its great mood mitigated part though not the whole of its disease he did the best he could with things not very subject to control and turned without perceiving his condition like college into a metaphysition he thought about himself and the whole earth of man the wonderful and of the stars and how the deuce they ever could have birth and then he thought of earthquakes and of wars how many miles the moon might have in girth of air balloons and of the many bars to perfect knowledge of the boundless skies and then he thought of Donna Julia's eyes in thoughts like these true wisdom made a certain longing sublime and aspirations high which some are born with but the most part learned to plague themselves with all they know not why to a strange that once so young should thus concern his brain about the action of the sky if you think to us philosophy that this did I can't help thinking puberty assisted he poured upon the leaves and on the flowers and heard a voice in all the winds and then he thought of wood nymphs and immortal powers and how the goddesses came down to men he missed the pathway he forgot the hours and when he looked upon his watch again he found how much old time had been a winner he also found that he had lost his dinner sometimes he turned to gaze upon his book Boscan or Gasilassou by the wind even as the pages rustled while we look so by the poise of his own mind over the mystic leaf his soul was shook as if to a one whereon magicians bind their spells and give them to the passing gale according to some good old woman's tale thus would he while his lonely hours away dissatisfied nor knowing what he wanted nor glowing reverie nor poets lay could yield his spirit that for which it panted a bosom whereon he his head might lay and hear the heart beat with a love it granted with several other things which I forget or which at least I need not mention yet those lonely walks and lengthening reveries could not escape the gentle Julia's eyes she saw the Jewon was not at his ease but that which chiefly may and must surprise is that Donna Ines did not tease her only son with question or surmise whether it was she did not see or would not or like all very clever people could not this may seem strange but yet is very common for instance a gentleman whose ladies take leave to or step the written rights of woman and break the which commandment is they break I have forgot the number and I think no man should rashly quote for fear of a mistake I say when these same gentlemen are jealous they make some blunder which their ladies tell us a real husband always is suspicious but still no less suspects in the wrong place jealous of someone who had no such wishes or pandering blindly to his own by harboring some dear friend extremely vicious this last indeed infallibly the case and when the spouse and friend are gone off wholly he wonders at their vice and not his folly thus parents also are at time short-sighted though watchful as the links they near discover the wild the wicked world beholds mistress or Miss Fanny's lover till some confounded escapade has blighted the plan of 20 years and all is over and then the mother cries the father swears and wonders why the devil he got is but Inais was so anxious and so clear of sight but I must think on this occasion she had some other motive much more near for leaving due into this new temptation what that motive was I shan't say here perhaps to finish Dewan's education perhaps to open Don Alfonso's eyes in case he thought his wife too great a prize it was upon a day a summer's day summer's indeed a very dangerous season and so is spring about the end of May the sun no doubt is the prevailing reason but what's aware the causes one may say must stand convicted more of truth than treason that there are months which nature grows more merry in March has its hairs and May must have its heroine it was on a summer's day the 6th of June I like to be particular in dates not only of the age and year but moon they are a sort of post house where the fates change horses making history change its tune then spur away or empires and or states leaving at last not much beside chronology excepting the post orbits of theology to us on the 6th of June about the hour of Huffpast 6 perhaps still near a 7 when Julia sat within as pretty a bar as air held hoary in that heathenish heaven described by Muhammad and an acrean moor to whom the lyre and laurels have been given with all the trophies of triumph at song he won them well and may he wear them long she sat but not alone I know not well how this same interview had taken place and even if I knew I should not tell people should hold their tongues in any case no matter how or why the thing befell but there was she in juan face to face when two such faces are so would be wise but very difficult to shut their eyes how beautiful she looked her conscious heart glowed in her cheek and yet she felt no wrong oh love how perfect is thy mystic art strengthening the weak and trampling on the strong how self deceitful is the sagest part of mortals whom thy lure hath led along the precipice she stood on was immense so was her creed in her own innocence she thought of her own strength and juan's youth and of the folly of all prudish fears victoria's virtue and domestic truth and then of don alfonso's 50 years I wish these last had not occurred in sooth because that number really much in tears and through all climbs the snowy and the sunny sounds ill in love for it may in money when people say I've told you 50 times they mean to scold and very often do when poets say I've written 50 rhymes they make you dread that they'll recite them too in gangs of 50 thieves commit their crimes at 50 love for love is rare it is true but then no doubt it equally as true is a good deal may be bought for 50 louis Julia had honor, virtue, truth and love for don alfonso and she inly swore by all the vows below to powers above she never would disgrace the ring she wore nor leave a wish which wisdom might reprove and while she pondered this besides much more one hand on juan's carelessly was thrown quite by mistake she thought it was her own unconsciously she leaned upon the other which played within the tangles of her hair and to contend with thought she could not smother she seemed by the distraction of her air to a surely very wrong of juan's mother to leave together this imprudent pair she who for many years had watched her son so I'm very certain mine would not have done so the hand which still held juans by degrees gently but palpably confirmed its grasp as if it said detain me if you please yet there's no doubt she only meant to clasp his fingers with a pure platonic squeeze she would have shrunk as from a toad or asp had she imagined such a thing could rouse a feeling dangerous to a prudent sparse I cannot know what juan thought of this but what he did is much what you would do his young lip thanked it with a grateful kiss and then abashed at its own joy withdrew in deep despair lest he had done a miss love is so very timid when it is new she blushed and frowned not but she strove to speak and held her tongue her voice was grown so weak the sun set and up rose the yellow moon and rose in the moon for mischief they who called her chaste me thinks began too soon there is not a day the longest not the 21st of June sees half the business in a wicked way on which three single hours of moonshine smile and then she looks so modest all the while there is a dangerous silence in that hour a stillness which leaves room for the full soul to open for itself without the power of calling holy back its self control the silver light which hallowing tree and tower sheds beauty and deep softness all the whole breathes also to the heart and or it throws a loving langer which is not repose and Julia sat with June half embraced and half retiring from the glowing arm which trembled like the bosom where it was placed yet still she must have thought there was no harm or else to her easy to withdraw her waist but then the situation had its charm and then God knows what next I can't go on I'm almost sorry that I air begun oh Plato Plato you have paved the way with your confounded fantasies to more immoral conduct by the fancied sway your system fanes or the controllers core of human hearts than all the long array of poets and romances you're a bore a charlatan a coxcomb and have been at best no better than a go-between and Julia's voice was lost except in size until too late for useful conversation the tears were gushing from her gentle eyes I wish indeed they had not had occasion but who alas can love and then be wise not that remorse did not oppose temptation a little while she strove and much repented and whispering I will ne'er consent consented this recording is in the public domain Don Jewen by Lord Byron Canto 1 part 5 read by Peter Gallagher for LibriVox.org Tiz said that Xerxes offered a reward to those who could invent him a new pleasure me thinks the requisition's rather hard and must have cost his majesty a treasure for my part I'm a moderate-minded bard fond of a little love which I call leisure I care not for new pleasures as the old are quite enough for me so they but hold oh pleasure you're a pleasant thing although one must be damned for you no doubt I make a resolution every spring of reformation every year run out but somehow this my vestal vow takes wing yet still I trust it may be kept throughout I'm very sorry very much ashamed and mean next winter to be quite reclaimed here my chaste muse a liberty must take start not still chased a reader she'll be nice hence forward and there's no great cause to quake this liberty is a poetic license which some irregularity may make in the design and as I have a high sense of Aristotle and the rules it is fit to beg his pardon when I err a bit this license is to hope the reader will suppose from June the 6th the fatal day without his epic my poetic skill for what of facts would all be thrown away but keeping Julia and Don Juan still in sight that several months have passed we'll say it was in November but I'm not so sure about the day the era is more obscure we'll talk of that and on to sweet to hear at midnight on the blue and moonlit deep the song and awe of Adria's gondolia by distance mellowed or the water's sweep to sweet to see the evening star appear to sweet to listen as the night winds creep from leaf to leaf to sweet to view on high the rainbow based on ocean span the sky to sweet to hear the watchdog's honest bark bay deep mouthed welcome as we draw near home to sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming and look brighter when we come to sweet to be awakened by the lark or lulled by falling waters sweet the hum of bees the voice of girls the song of birds the lisp of children and their earliest words sweet as the vintage when the showering grapes in bacchanal profusion reeled to earth purple and gushing sweet our escapes from civic revelry to rural mirth sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps sweet to the father is his first born's birth sweet is revenge especially to women pillaged to soldiers prize money to see men sweet is a legacy and passing sweet the unexpected death of some old lady or gentleman of 70 years complete who've made us youth wait too, too long already for an estate or cash or country seat still breaking but with stamina so steady that all the Israelites are fit to mob its next owner for their double damned post orbits to sweet to win no matter how one's laurels by blood or ink to sweet to put an end to strife sometimes sweet to have our quarrels particularly with a tiresome friend sweet as old wine in bottles ale in barrels dear as the helpless creature we defend against the world and dear the schoolboy's spot we near forget though there we have forgot but sweeter still than this than these than all is first and passionate love it stands alone like Adam's vision of his fall the tree of knowledge has been plucked all's known and life yields nothing further to recall worthy of this ambrosial sin so shown no doubt in fable as the unforgiven fire which Prometheus filched for us from heaven man's a strange animal and makes strange use of his own nature and the various arts and likes particularly to produce some new experiment this is the age of oddities let loose where different talents find their different marks you'd best begin with truth and when you've lost your labor there's a sure market for imposture what opposite discoveries we have seen signs of true genius and of empty pockets one makes new noses one a guillotine one breaks your bones one sets them in their sockets but vaccinations certainly has been a kind antithesis to congreaves rockets with which the doctor paid off an old pox by borrowing a new one from an ox bread has been made indifferent from potatoes and galvanism has set some corpses grinning but has not answered like the apparatus of the humane societies beginning by which men are unsophocated gratis what wondrous new machines of late been spinning I said the small pox has gone out of late perhaps it may be followed by the great tis said the great came from America perhaps it may set out on its return the population there so spreads they say tis grown high time to thin it in its turn with war or plague or famine anyway so that civilization they may learn and which in ravage the more loathsome evil is their real lures or our pseudo civilis this is the patent age of new inventions for killing bodies and for saving souls all propagated with the best intentions so Humphrey Davies Lantern by which coals are safely mined for in the mode he mentions tom buck two travels voyages to the poles are ways to benefit mankind as true perhaps as shooting them at waterloo man's a phenomenon one knows not what and wonderful beyond all wondrous measure tis pity though in this sublime world that pleasures are sin and sometimes sins are pleasure few mortals know what end they would be at but with a glory power or love or treasure the path is through perplexing ways and when the goal is gained we die you know and then what then I do not know no more do you and so good night return we to our story twas in November when fine days a few and the far mountains wax a little hoary and clap a white cape on their mantles blue and the sea dashes round the promontory and the loud breaker boils against the rock and sober suns must set at five o'clock twas as the watchmen say a cloudy night no moon no stars the wind was low or loud by gusts and many a sparkling hearth was bright with piled wood round which the family crowd there's something cheerful in that sort of light even as a summer sky without a cloud I'm fond of fire and crickets and all that a lobster salad and champagne and chat twas midnight Donna Julia was in bed sleeping most probably when at her door that I might awake the dead if they had never been awoke before and that they have been so we all have read and are to be so at the least once more the door was fastened but with voice and fist first knocks were heard then madame madame hissed for God's sake madame madame here's my master with more than half the city at his back was ever heard of such a cursed disaster it is not my fault I kept a good watch a lack do pray undo the bolt a little faster they're on the stair just now and in a crack will all be here perhaps he yet may fly surely the windows not so very high by this time Don Alfonso was arrived with tortures, friends and servants in great number the major part of them had long been whived and therefore paused not to disturb the slumber of any wicked woman who contrived by stealth her husband's temples to encumber examples of this kind are so contagious where one not punished all would be outrageous I can't tell how why or what suspicion could enter into Don Alfonso's head but for a cavalier of his condition it surely was exceedingly ill-bred without a word of previous admonition to hold a lever around his lady's bed and some and lackeys armed with fire and sword to prove himself the thing he most aboard poor Donna Julia starting as from sleep mind that I do not say she had not slept began at once to scream and yawn her maid Antonia who was an adept contrived to fling the bedclothes in a heap as if she had just now from out them crept I can't tell why she should take all this trouble to prove her mistress had been sleeping double but Julia mistress and Antonia maid appeared like two poor harmless women who of goblins but still more of men afraid had thought one man might be deterred by two and therefore side by side were gently laid until the hours of absence should run through and true and husband should return and say my dear I was the first to came away now Julia found at length the voice and cried in heavens named on Alfonso what do you mean as madness sees you what did I had died as such a monsters victim I have been what may this midnight violence betide a sudden fit of drunkenness or spleen dare you suspect me whom the cat would kill search then the room Alfonso said I will he searched they searched and rummaged everywhere clothes and closet press chest and windows seat and found much linen lace and several pair stockings slippers brushes combs complete with other articles of ladies fair to keep them beautiful leave them neat Arras they pricked and curtains with their swords and wounded several shutters and some boards under the bed they searched and there they found no matter what it was not that they sought they opened windows gazing at the ground had signs or footmarks but the earth said not and then they stared each other's faces round it is odd not one of all those seekers thought and seems to me almost a sort of blunder of looking in the bed as well as under during this inquisition Julia's tongue was not asleep yes search and search she cried insult on insult heap and wrong on wrong it was for this that I became a bride for this in silence I have suffered long a husband like Alfonso at my side but now I'll bear no more nor here remain if there be law or lawyers in all Spain yes Don Alfonso husband now no more if ever you indeed deserve the name it's worthy of your years you have three score 50 or 60 it is all the same it's wise or fitting causeless to explore for facts against the virtuous woman's fame ungrateful purged barbarist on Alfonso how dare you think your lady would go on so it's for this I have disdain to hold the common privileges of my sex that I have chosen a confessor so old and deaf that any other it would vex and never once has he had caused a scold but found a very innocent's perplex so much he always doubted I was married how sorry you will be when I have miscarried what's for this that no Coteuere I yet have chosen from out the youth of all Seville it's for this I scarce went anywhere except to bullfights, mass, play, rout and revel it's for this where there my suitors were I favored none nay was most uncivil it's for this the general Count O'Reilly his declares I used him viley did not the Italian music or Kazani sing at my heart six months at least in vain did not his countryman Count Cornyani call me the only virtuous wife in Spain were there not also Russians English many, the Count Strong Stroganoff I put in pain and Lord Mount Coffey House the Irish peer who killed himself for love with wine last year have I not had two bishops the Duke of Ica and Don Ferran Nunes and is it thus a faithful wife you treat I wonder in what quarter now the moon is I praise your vast forbearance not to beat me also since the time so opportune is oh valiant man with sword drawn and cocked trigger now tell me don't you cut a pretty figure was it for this you took your sudden journey under pretence of business indispensable with that sublime of rascals your attorney whom I see standing there and looking sensible of having played the fool though both I spurn he deserves the worst his contacts less defensible because no doubt was for his dirty fee and not from heavy love to you or me if he comes here to take a deposition by all means let the gentleman proceed you've made the apartment in a fit condition there's pen and ink for you sir when you need let everything be noted with precision I would not you for nothing you should be feed but as my maids undressed pray turn your spies out oh sobs Antonio I could tear their eyes out there is the closet there the toilet there the anti-chamber search them under over there's the sofa there's the great armchair the chimney which would really hold a lover I wish to sleep and beg you will take care and make no further noise till you discover the secret cavern of this lurking treasure and when tis found let me too have that pleasure and now Hidalgo now that you have thrown doubt upon me confusion overall pray have the courtesy to make it known who is the man you search for how do you call him what's his lineage let him be but shown I hope he's young and handsome is he tall tell me and be assured that since you stain my honour of us it shall not be in vain at least perhaps he has not 60 years at that age you would be too old for slaughter or for so young a husband's jealous fears Antonio let me have a glass of water I am ashamed of having shed these tears they are unworthy of my father's daughter my mother dreamed not in my natal hour that I should fall into a monster's power perhaps tis of Antonio you are jealous you saw that she was sleeping by my side when you broke in upon us with your fellows look where you please weaved nothing sir to hide only another time I trust you'll tell us all for the sake of decency abide a moment at the door that we may be dressed to receive so much good company and now sir I have done and say no more the little I have said may serve to show the guileless heart in silence may grieve all the wrongs to whose exposure it is slow I leave you to your conscience as before to a one day ask you why you use me so God grant you feel not then the bitterest grief Antonio where's my pocket handkerchief this recording is in the public domain Don Dewan by Lord Byron Canto 1 part 6 read by Peter Gallagher for LibriVox.org she ceased and turned upon her pillow pale she lay her dark eyes flashing through their tears like skies that rain and lighten as a veil waived and or shading her one cheek appears her streaming hair the black curls strive but fail to hide the glossy which up rears its snow through all her soft lips lie apart and louder than her breathing beats her heart the senior Don Alfonso stood confused and Tony a bustled round the ransacked room and turning up her nose with looks abused her master and his myrmidons of whom not one except the attorney was amused he like a kitty's faithful to the tomb so there were quarrels cared not for the cause knowing they must be settled by the laws with prying snub nose and small eyes he stood following Antonia's motions here and there with much suspicion in his attitude for reputations he had little care so that a suit or action were made good small pity had he for the young and fair and there believed in negatives till these were proved by competent false witnesses but Don Alfonso stood with downcast looks and truth to say he made a foolish figure when after searching in five hundred nooks and treating a young wife with so much rigor he'd gained no point except some self rebukes added to those his lady with such vigor had poured upon him for the last half hour quick thick and heavy as a thundershire at first he tried to hammer an excuse to which the sole reply was tears and sobs and indications of hysterics whose prologue is always certain throes and throbs gasps and whatever else the owners choose Alfonso saw his wife and thought of Job's he saw too in perspective her relations and then he tried to muster all his patience he stood in act to speak or rather stammer but say Antonia cut him short before the anvil of his speech received the hammer with her or madam dies Alfonso muttered damn her but nothing else the time of words was o'er he cast a rueful look or two and did he knew not wherefore that which he was bid with him retired his posicomitatus the attorney last who lingered near the door reluctantly still tarrying there as late as Antonia let him not a little sore at this most strange and unexplained hiatus on Alfonso's facts which just now wore an awkward look as he revolved the case the door was fastened in his legal face no sooner was it bolted than oh shame oh sin oh sorrow and oh womankind how can you do such things and keep your fame unless this world and other too be blind nothing so dear as an unfilched good name but to proceed for there is more behind with much heartfelt reluctance be it said young Dewan slipped half smothered from the bed he had been hid I don't pretend to say how nor can I indeed describe the where young slender and packed easily he lay no doubt in little compass round or square but pity him I neither must nor may his suffocation by that pretty pair to a better sure to die so than be shut with mortal and clarence in his mamsy but and secondly I pity not because he had no business to commit a sin forbid by heavenly find by human laws at least was rather early to begin but at 16 the conscience rarely knows so much as when we call our old debts in that 60 years and draw the accounts of evil and find a duced balance with the devil of his position I can give no notion is written in the Hebrew chronicle how the physicians leaving pill and potion prescribed by way of blister a young bell when all King David's blood grew dull in motion and that the medicine answered very well perhaps was in a different way applied for David lived but Dewan nearly died what's to be done Alfonso will be back the moment he has sent his way and Tonya skill was put upon the rack but no device could be bought into play and how to parry the renewed attack besides it wanted but few hours of day Antonio puzzled Julia did not speak but pressed her bloodless lip to Dewan's cheek he turned his lip to hers and with his hand called back the tangles of her wandering hair even then their love they could not all command and half forgot their danger and despair and Tonya's patients now was at a stand come come it is no time now for fooling there she whispered in great wrath I must deposit this pretty gentleman within the closet pray keep your nonsense for some luckier night who can have put my master in this mood what will be come on I'm in such a fright the devil's in the urchin and no good is this a time for giggling this a plight why don't you know that it may end in blood but you lose your life and I shall lose my place my mistress all for that half girlish face headed but being for a stout cavalier of twenty five or thirty come make haste but for a child what a piece of work is here I really madam wonder at your taste come sir get in my master must be near there for the present at the least he's fast and if we can but till the morning keep our council Dewan mind you must not sleep now don Alfonso entering but alone close the oration of the trusty maid she loitered and he told her to be gone and order somewhat sullenly obeyed however present remedy was none and no great good seemed answered if she stayed regarding both with slow and side long view she snuffed the candle curtsied and withdrew Alfonso paused a minute then begun some strange excuses for his late proceeding he would not justify what he had done to say the best it was extremely breeding but there were ample reasons for it none of which he specified in this is pleading his speech was a fine sample on the whole of rhetoric which the learned call rigmarole Julia said not though all the while there rose a ready answer which at once enables a matron who her husband's foible knows by a few timely words to turn the tables which if it does not silence still must pose even if it should comprise a pack of fables tears to retort with firmness and when he suspects with one do you reproach with three Julia in fact had tolerable grounds Alfonso's loves with Highness were well known but whether it was that one's own guilt confounds but that can't be as has been often shown a lady with apologies abounds it might be that her silence sprang alone from delicacy to Don Jewins ear to whom she knew his mother's fame was dear there might be one more motive which makes two Alfonso near to Jewin had alluded mentioned his jealousy but never who had been the happy lover he concluded concealed among his premises it is true his mind the more or this it's mystery brooded to speak of Highness now were one may say like throwing Jewin in Alfonso's way a hint in tender cases is enough silence is best besides there is a tact that modern phrase appears to me sad stuff but it will serve to keep my verse compact which keeps when pushed by questions rather rough a lady always distant from the fact the charming creatures lie with such a grace there's nothing so becoming to the face they blush and we believe them at least I have always done so tis of no great use in any case attempting a reply for then their eloquence grows quite profuse and when at length they're out of breath they sigh and cast their languid eyes down and let loose a tear or two and then we make it up and then and then and then sit down and sub Alfonso closed his speech and begged her pardon which Julia half withheld and then half granted and laid conditions he thought very hard on denying several little things he wanted he stood like Adam lingering near his garden with useless penitence perplexed and haunted beseeching she no further would refuse when low he stumbled or a pair of shoes a pair of shoes what then? not much if they are such as fit with ladies feet but these no one can tell how much I grieve to say were masculine to see them and to seize was but a moment's act oh well a day my teeth begin to chatter my veins freeze Alfonso first examined well their fashion then flew out into another passion he left the room for his relinquished sword and Julia instant to the closet flew fly chew and fly for heaven's sake not a word the door is open you may yet slip through the passage you so often have explored here is the garden key fly fly a dew haste haste I hear Alfonso's hurrying feet day has not broke there's no one in the street none can say this was not good advice the only mischief was it came too late of all experienced as the usual price a sort of income tax laid on by fate Jewyn had reached the room door in a trice and might have done so by the garden gate but met Alfonso in his dressing gown who threatened death so Jewyn knocked him down dire was the scuffle and out went the light Antonia cried out rape and Julia fire but not a servant stirred to aid the fight Alfonso pommel to his heart's desire swore lustily he'd be revenge this night and Jewyn too blasphemed and knocked of hire his blood was up though young he was a tartar and not at all disposed to prove a matter Alfonso's sword had dropped ere he could draw it and they continued battling hand to hand for Jewyn very luckily near saw it his temper not being under great command if at that moment he had chance to chlorate Alfonso's days had not been in the land much longer think of husbands lovers lives and how you may be doubly widows wives Alfonso grappled to detain the foe and Jewyn throttled him to get away the blood was from the nose began to flow at last as they more faintly wrestling lay Jewyn contrived to give an awkward blow and then his only garment quite gave way he fled like Joseph leaving it but there I doubt all likeness ends between the pair lights came at length and men and maids who found an awkward spectacle their eyes before Antonia in hysterics Julia swooned Alfonso leaning breathless by the door some half-torn drapery scattered on the ground some blood and several footsteps but no more Jewyn the gate gained turned the key about and liking not the inside locked the out this recording is in the public domain Don Jewyn by Lord Byron canto 1 part 7 read by Peter Gallagher for LibriVox.org here ends this canto need I sing or say how Jewyn favored by the night to favors what she should not found his way and reached his home in an unseemly plight the pleasant scandal which arose next day the nine days wonder which was brought to light and how Alfonso sued for a divorce were in the English newspapers of course if you would like to see the whole proceedings the depositions and the cause at full the names of all the witnesses the pleadings of counsel to non-suit or to annul there's more than one addition and the readings are various but they none of them are dull the best is that in shorthand tamed by Gurney who to Madrid on purpose made a journey but Donna Ines to divert the train of one of the most circulating scandals that had for centuries been known in Spain at least since the retirement of the vandals first vowed and never had she vowed in vain to Virgin Mary several pounds of candles and then by the advice of some old ladies she sent her son to be shipped off from Cades she had resolved that he should travel through all European climes by land or sea to mend his former morals and get new especially in France and Italy at least this is the thing most people do Julia was sent into a convent she grieved but perhaps her feelings may be better shown in the following copy of her letter they tell me it is decided you depart it is wise it is well but not the less a pain I have no further claim on your young heart mine is the victim and would be again to love too much has been the only art I used I write in haste and if a stain beyond this sheet it is not what it appears my eyeballs burn and throb but have no tears I loved I love you for this love have lost state station, heaven, mankind my own esteem and yet cannot regret what it hath cost so dear is still the memory of that dream yet if I name my guilt it is not to boast none can deem harshlier of me than I deem I trace this scrawl because I cannot rest I have nothing to reproach or to request man's love is of man's life a thing apart to his woman's whole existence man may range the court, camp, church the vessel and the mart sword, gown, gain, glory offer an exchange, pride, fame ambition to fill up his heart and few there are whom these cannot estrange men have all these resources we but one to love again and be again undone you will proceed in pleasure and in pride beloved and loving many all is all for me on earth except some years to hide my shame and sorrow deep in my heart's core these I could bear but cannot cast aside the passion which still rages as before and so farewell forgive me, love me no, that word is idle now but let it go my breast has been all weakness is so yet but still I think I can collect my mind my blood still rushes where my spirit set as roll the waves before the settled wind my heart is feminine nor can forget to all except one image madly blind so shakes the needle and so stands the pole as vibrates my fond heart to my fixed soul I have no more to say but linger still and dare not set my seal upon this sheet and yet I may as well the task fulfill my misery can scarce be more complete I had not lived till now could sorrow kill death shuns the wretch who feign the blow would meet and I must even survive this last to-do and bear with life to love and pray for you this note was written upon guilt-edge paper with a neat little crowquill slight and new her small white hand could hardly reach the taper it trembled as magnetic needles do and yet she did not let one tear escape her to seal the sunflower elvus we patu the motto cut upon a white cornelian the wax was superfine its hue vermilion this was Don Dewan's earliest scrape but whether I shall proceed with his adventures is dependent on the public altogether we'll see, however, what they say to this their favour in an author's caps are feather and no great mischief stunned by their caprice and if their approbation we experience perhaps they'll have some more about a year hence my poem's epic and is meant to be divided in 12 books each book containing with love and war a heavy gale at sea a list of ships and captains reigning new characters the episodes are three a panoramic view of hells in training after the style of Virgil and of Homer so that my name of epic's no misnomer all these things will be specified in time with strict regard to Aristotle's rules the vade makum of the true sublime which makes so many poets and some fools prose poets like blank verse I'm fond of rhyme good workmen never quarrel with their tools mythological machinery and very handsome supernatural scenery there's only one slight difference between me and my epic brethren god before and here the advantage is my own, I wean not that I have not several merits more but this will more peculiarly be seen they so embellish that is quite a bore their labyrinth of fables to thread through whereas this story's actually true any person doubt it, I appeal to history, tradition and to facts to newspapers whose truth all know and feel to plays in five and operas in three acts all these confirm my statement a good deal but that which more completely faith extracts is that myself and several now in Seville saw Juin's last elopement with the devil this recording is in the public domain