from Canto I

181

A pair of shoes!—what then? not much, if they
     Are such as fit with lady’s 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.—Ah! Well-a-day!
     My teeth begin to chatter, my veins freeze—
Alfonso first examined well their fashion,
And then flew out into another passion.

182

He left the room for his relinquish’d sword,
     And Julia instant to the closet flew.
“Fly, Juan, 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—Adieu!
Haste—haste!—I hear Alfonso’s hurrying feet—
Day has not broke—there’s no one in the street.”

183

None can say that this was not good advice,
     The only mischief was, it came too late;
Of all experience ‘tis the usual price,
     A sort of income-tax laid on by fate:
Juan had reach’d the room-door in a trice,
     And might have done so by the garden-gate,
But met Alfonso in his dressing-gown,
Who threaten’d death—so Juan knock’d him down.

184

Dire was the scuffle, and out went the light,
     Antonia cried out “Rape!” and Julia “Fire!”
But not a servant stirr’d to aid the fight.
    Alfonso, pommell’d to his heart’s desire,
Swore lustily he’d be revenged this night;
    And Juan, too, blasphemed an octave higher,
His blood was up; though young, he was a Tartar,
And not at all disposed to prove a martyr.

185

Alfonso’s sword had dropp’d ere he could draw it,
     And they continued battling hand to hand,
For Juan very luckily ne’er saw it;
     His temper not being under great command,
If at that moment he had chanced to claw it,
     Alfonso’s days had not been in the land
Much longer.—Think of husbands’, lovers’ lives!
And how ye may be doubly widows—wives!

186

Alfonso grappled to detain the foe,
     And Juan throttled him to get away,
And blood (‘twas from the nose) began to flow;
     At last, as they more faintly wrestling lay,
Juan 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.

187

Lights came at length, and men, and maids, who found
     An awkward spectacle their eyes before;
Antonia in hysterics, Julia swoon’d,
     Alfonso leaning, breathless, by the door;
Some half-torn drapery scatter’d on the ground,
     Some blood, and several footsteps, but no more:
Juan the gate gain’d, turn’d the key about,
And liking not the inside, lock’d the out.

188

Here ends this canto.—Need I sing, or say,
     How Juan, naked, favour’d by the night,
Who favours what she should not, found his way,
     And reach’d 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.

189

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 nonsuit, or to annul,
There’s more than one edition, and the readings
     Are various, but they none of them are dull,
The best is that in shorthand ta’en by Gurney,
Who to Madrid on purpose made a journey.

190

But Donna Inez, 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 vow’d (and never had she vow’d in vain)
     To Virgin Mary several pounds of candles;
And then, by the advice of some old ladies,
She sent her son to be shipp’d off from Cadiz.