from Canto V

41

Here their conductor tapping at the wicket
     Of a small iron door, ‘twas opened, and
He led them onward, first through a low thicket
     Flank’d by large groves, which tower’d on either hand:
They almost lost their way, and had to pick it—
     For night was closing ere they came to land.
The eunuch made a sign to those on board,
Who rowed off, leaving them without a word.

42

As they were plodding on their winding way
     Through orange bowers, and jasmine, and so forth:
(Of which I might have a good deal to say,
     There being no such profusion in the North
Of oriental plants, “et cetera,”
     But that of late your scribblers think it worth
Their while to rear whole hotbeds in their works
Because one poet travelled ‘mongst the Turks):

43

As they were threading on their way, there came
     Into Don Juan’s head a thought, which he
Whispered to his companion:—’twas the same
     Which might have then occurred to you or me.
“Methinks,”—said he,—”it would be no great shame
     If we should strike a stroke to set us free;
Let’s knock that old black fellow on the head,
And march away—’twere easier done than said.”

44

“Yes,” said the other, “and when done, what then?
     How get out? how the devil got we in?
And when we once were fairly out, and when
     From Saint Bartholomew we have saved our skin,
To-morrow’d see us in some other den,
     And worse off than we hitherto have been;
Besides, I’m hungry, and just now would take,
Like Esau, for my birthright a beef-steak.

45

“We must be near some place of man’s abode;—
     For the old negro’s confidence in creeping,
With his two captives, by so queer a road,
     Shows that he thinks his friends have not been sleeping;
A single cry would bring them all abroad:
     ‘Tis therefore better looking before leaping—
And there, you see, this turn has brought us through.
By Jove, a noble palace!—lighted too.”

46

It was indeed a wide extensive building
     Which opened on their view, and o’er the front
There seemed to be besprent a deal of gilding
     And various hues, as is the Turkish wont,—
A gaudy taste; for they are little skilled in
     The arts of which these lands were once the font:
Each villa on the Bosphorus looks a screen
New painted, or a pretty opera-scene.

47

And nearer as they came, a genial savour
    Of certain stews, and roast-meats, and pilaus,
Things which in hungry mortals’ eyes find favour,
     Made Juan in his harsh intentions pause,
And put himself upon his good behaviour:
     His friend, too, adding a new saving clause,
Said, “In Heaven’s name let’s get some supper now,
And then I’m with you, if you’re for a row.”

48

Some talk of an appeal unto some passion,
     Some to men’s feelings, others to their reason;
The last of these was never much the fashion,
     For reason thinks all reasoning out of season.
Some speakers whine, and others lay the lash on,
     But more or less continue still to tease on,
With arguments according to their “forte”:
But no one ever dreams of being short.—

49

But I digress: of all appeals,—although
     I grant the power of pathos, and of gold,
Of beauty, flattery, threats, a shilling,—no
     Method’s more sure at moments to take hold
Of the best feelings of mankind, which grow
     More tender, as we every day behold,
Than that all-softening, over-powering knell,
The tocsin of the soul—the dinner bell.

50

Turkey contains no bells, and yet men dine;
     And Juan and his friend, albeit they heard
No christian knoll to table, saw no line
    Of lacqueys usher to the feast prepared,
Yet smelt roast-meat, beheld a huge fire shine,
     And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared,
And gazed around them to the left and right
With the prophetic eye of appetite.