from Canto V

11

He had an English look; that is, was square
     In make, of a complexion white and ruddy,
Good teeth, with curling rather dark brown hair,
     And, it might be from thought, or toil, or study,
An open brow a little marked with care:
     One arm had on a bandage rather bloody;
And there he stood with such sang-froid that greater
Could scarce be shown even by a mere spectator.

12

But seeing at his elbow a mere lad,
     Of a high spirit evidently, though
At present weighed down by a doom which had
    O’erthrown even men, he soon began to show
A kind of blunt compassion for the sad
     Lot of so young a partner in the woe,
Which for himself he seem’d to deem no worse
Than any other scrape, a thing of course.

13

“My boy!”—said he, “amidst this motley crew
    Of Georgians, Russians, Nubians, and what not,
All ragamuffins differing but in hue,
     With whom it is our luck to cast our lot,
The only gentlemen seem I and you;
     So let us be acquainted, as we ought:
If I could yield you any consolation,
‘Twould give me pleasure.—Pray, what is your nation?”

14

When Juan answered “Spanish!” he replied,
     “I thought, in fact, you could not be a Greek;
Those servile dogs are not so proudly eyed:
     Fortune has played you here a pretty freak,
But that’s her way with all men till they’re tried;
     But never mind,—she’ll turn, perhaps, next week;
She has served me also much the same as you,
Except that I have found it nothing new.”

15

“Pray, Sir,” said Juan, “if I may presume,
     What brought you here?”—”Oh! nothing very rare—
Six Tartars and a drag-chain—”—”To this doom
     But what conducted, if the question’s fair,
Is that which I would learn.”—”I served for some
     Months with the Russian army here and there,
And taking lately, by Suwarrow’s bidding,
A town, was ta’en myself instead of Widin.”

16

“Have you no friends?”—”I had—but, by God’s blessing,
     Have not been troubled with them lately. Now
I have answered all your questions without pressing,
     And you an equal courtesy should show.”—
“Alas!” said Juan, ”’twere a tale distressing,
     And long besides.”—”Oh! if ‘tis really so,
You’re right on both accounts to hold your tongue;
A sad tale saddens doubly when ‘tis long.

17

“But droop not: Fortune at your time of life,
     Although a female moderately fickle,
Will hardly leave you (as she’s not your wife)
     For any length of days in such a pickle.
To strive too with our fate were such a strife
     As if the corn-sheaf should oppose the sickle:
Men are the sport of circumstances, when
The circumstances seem the sport of men.”

18

”’Tis not,” said Juan, “for my present doom
     I mourn, but for the past;—I loved a maid”:
He paused, and his dark eye grew full of gloom;
     A single tear upon his eyelash staid
A moment, and then dropped; “but to resume,
     ‘Tis not my present lot, as I have said,
Which I deplore so much; for I have borne
Hardships which have the hardiest overworn,

19

“On the rough deep. But this last blow—” and here
     He stopped again, and turned away his face.
“Ay,” quoth his friend, “I thought it would appear
     That there had been a lady in the case;
And these are things which ask a tender tear,
     Such as I too would shed if in your place:
I cried upon my first wife’s dying day,
And also when my second ran away:

20

“My third—”—”Your third!” quoth Juan, turning round;
     “You scarcely can be thirty: have you three?”
“No—only two at present above ground:
     Surely ‘tis nothing wonderful to see
One person thrice in holy wedlock bound!”
     “Well, then, your third,” said Juan; “what did she?
She did not run away, too, did she, sir?”
“No, faith.”—”What then?”—”I ran away from her.”