from Canto V

151

Except in shape of envoys, who were sent
     To lodge there when a war broke out, according
To the true law of nations, which ne’er meant
     Those scoundrels, who have never had a sword in
Their dirty diplomatic hands, to vent
     Their spleen in making strife, and safely wording
Their lies, ycleped despatches, without risk or
The singeing of a single inky whisker.

152

He had fifty daughters and four dozen sons,
     Of whom all such as came of age were stowed,
The former in a palace, where like nuns
     They lived till some Bashaw was sent abroad,
When she, whose turn it was, was wed at once,
     Sometimes at six years old—though this seems odd,
‘Tis true; the reason is, that the Bashaw
Must make a present to his sire in law.

153

His sons were kept in prison, till they grew
    Of years to fill a bowstring or the throne,
One or the other, but which of the two
     Could yet be known unto the fates alone;
Meantime the education they went through
     Was princely, as the proofs have always shown:
So that the heir apparent still was found
No less deserving to be hanged than crowned.

154

His Majesty saluted his fourth spouse
     With all the ceremonies of his rank,
Who cleared her sparkling eyes and smoothed her brows,
     As suits a matron who has played a prank;
These must seem doubly mindful of their vows,
     To save the credit of their breaking bank:
To no men are such cordial greetings given
As those whose wives have made them fit for heaven.

155

His Highness cast around his great black eyes,
     And looking, as he always looked, perceived
Juan amongst the damsels in disguise,
     At which he seemed no whit surprised nor grieved,
But just remarked with air sedate and wise
     While still a fluttering sigh Gulbeyaz heaved,
“I see you’ve bought another girl; ‘tis pity
That a mere christian should be half so pretty.”

156

This compliment, which drew all eyes upon
     The new-bought virgin, made her blush and shake.
Her comrades, also, thought themselves undone:
     Oh! Mahomet! that his Majesty should take
Such notice of a giaour, while scarce to one
     Of them his lips imperial ever spake!
There was a general whisper, toss, and wriggle,
But etiquette forbade them all to giggle.

157

The Turks do well to shut—at least, sometimes—
     The women up—because in sad reality,
Their chastity in these unhappy climes
     Is not a thing of that astringent quality,
Which in the north prevents precocious crimes,
     And makes our snow less pure than our morality;
The sun, which yearly melts the polar ice,
Has quite the contrary effect on vice.

158

Thus in the East they are extremely strict,
     And Wedlock and a Padlock mean the same;
Excepting only when the former’s pick’d
     It ne’er can be replaced in proper frame;
Spoilt, as a pipe of claret is when prick’d:
     But then their own Polygamy’s to blame;
Why don’t they knead two virtuous souls for life
Into that moral centaur, man and wife?

159

Thus far our chronicle; and now we pause,
     Though not for want of matter; but ‘tis time,
According to the ancient epic laws,
     To slacken sail, and anchor with our rhyme.
Let this fifth canto meet with due applause,
     The sixth shall have a touch of the sublime;
Meanwhile, as Homer sometimes sleeps, perhaps
You’ll pardon to my muse a few short naps.