from Canto XVI

91

But of all nature’s discrepancies, none
     Upon the whole is greater than the difference
Beheld between the country and the town,
     Of which the latter merits every preference
From those who have few resources of their own,
     And only think, or act, or feel with reference
To some small plan of interest or ambition—
Both which are limited to no condition.

92

But “en avant!” The light loves languish o’er
     Long banquets and too many guests, although
A slight repast makes people love much more,
     Bacchus and Ceres being, as we know,
Even from our grammar upwards, friends of yore
    With vivifying Venus, who doth owe
To these the invention of champagne and truffles:
Temperance delights her, but long fasting ruffles.

93

Dully past o’er the dinner of the day;
     And Juan took his place, he knew not where,
Confused, in the confusion, and distrait,
     And sitting as if nailed upon his chair;
Though knives and forks clanged round as in a fray,
     He seemed unconscious of all passing there,
Till some one, with a groan, exprest a wish
(Unheeded twice) to have a fin of fish.

94

On which, at the third asking of the banns,
     He started; and perceiving smiles around
Broadening to grins, he coloured more than once,
     And hastily—as nothing can confound
A wise man more than laughter from a dunce—
     Inflicted on the dish a deadly wound,
And with such hurry, that ere he could curb it,
He had paid his neighbour’s prayer with half a turbot.

95

This was no bad mistake, as it occurred,
    The supplicator being an amateur;
But others, who were left with scarce a third,
     Were angry—as they well might, to be sure.
They wondered how a young man so absurd
     Lord Henry at his table should endure;
And this, and his not knowing how much oats
Had fallen last market, cost his host three votes.

96

They little knew, or might have sympathised,
     That he the night before had seen a ghost;
A prologue which but slightly harmonised
     With the substantial company engrossed
By Matter, and so much materialised,
     That one scarce knew at what to marvel most
Of two things—how (the question rather odd is)
Such bodies could have souls, or souls such bodies.

97

But what confused him more than smile or stare
    From all the ‘squires and ‘squiresses around,
Who wondered at the abstraction of his air,
     Especially as he had been renowned
For some vivacity among the fair,
     Even in the country circle’s narrow bound—
(For little things upon my Lord’s estate
Were good small-talk for others still less great)—

98

Was, that he caught Aurora’s eye on his,
     And something like a smile upon her cheek.
Now this he really rather took amiss:
     In those who rarely smile, their smiles bespeak
A strong external motive; and in this
     Smile of Aurora’s there was nought to pique
Or hope, or love, with any of the wiles
Which some pretend to trace in ladies’ smiles.

99

‘Twas a mere quiet smile of contemplation,
     Indicative of some surprise and pity;
And Juan grew carnation with vexation,
     Which was not very wise and still less witty,
Since he had gained at least her observation,
    A most important outwork of the city—
As Juan should have known, had not his senses
By last night’s ghost been driven from their defences.

100

But what was bad, she did not blush in turn,
     Nor seem embarrassed—quite the contrary;
Her aspect was as usual, still—not stern—
     And she withdrew, but cast not down, her eye,
Yet grew a little pale—with what? concern?
     I know not; but her colour ne’er was high—
Though sometimes faintly flushed—and always clear,
As deep seas in a Sunny Atmosphere.