from Canto XVI

101

But Adeline was occupied by fame
     This day; and watching, witching, condescending
To the consumers of fish, fowl and game,
     And dignity with courtesy so blending,
As all must blend whose part it is to aim
     (Especially as the sixth year is ending)
At their lord’s, son’s, or similar connection’s
Safe conduct through the rocks of re-elections.

102

Though this was most expedient on the whole,
     And usual—Juan, when he cast a glance
On Adeline while playing her grand role,
     Which she went through as though it were a dance,
(Betraying only now and then her soul
    By a look scarce perceptibly askance
Of weariness or scorn) began to feel
Some doubt how much of Adeline was real;

103

So well she acted, all and every part
     By turns—with that vivacious versatility,
Which many people take for want of heart.
     They err—’tis merely what is called mobility,
A thing of temperament and not of art,
     Though seeming so, from its supposed facility;
And false—though true; for surely they’re sincerest,
Who are strongly acted on by what is nearest.

104

This makes your actors, artists, and romancers,
     Heroes sometimes, though seldom—sages never;
But speakers, bards, diplomatists, and dancers,
     Little that’s great, but much of what is clever;
Most orators, but very few financiers,
     Though all Exchequer Chancellors endeavour,
Of late years, to dispense with Cocker’s rigours,
And grow quite figurative with their figures.

105

The poets of arithmetic are they
     Who, though they prove not two and two to be
Five, as they might do in a modest way,
     Have plainly made it out that four are three,
Judging by what they take, and what they pay.
     The Sinking Fund’s unfathomable sea,
That most unliquidating liquid, leaves
The debt unsunk, yet sinks all it receives.

106

While Adeline dispensed her airs and graces,
     The fair Fitz-Fulke seemed very much at ease;
Though too well bred to quiz men to their faces,
     Her laughing blue eyes with a glance could seize
The ridicules of people in all places—
     That honey of your fashionable bees—
And store it up for mischievous enjoyment;
And this at present was her kind employment.

107

However, the day closed, as days must close;
     The evening also waned—and coffee came.
Each carriage was announced, and ladies rose,
    And curtseying off, as curtsies country dame,
Retired: with most unfashionable bows
    Their docile esquires also did the same,
Delighted with the dinner and their host,
But with the Lady Adeline the most.

108

Some praised her beauty; others her great grace;
     The warmth of her politeness, whose sincerity
Was obvious in each feature of her face,
     Whose traits were radiant with the rays of verity.
Yes; she was truly worthy her high place!
     No one could envy her deserved prosperity;
And then her dress—what beautiful simplicity
Draperied her form with curious felicity!

109

Meanwhile sweet Adeline deserved their praises,
     By an impartial indemnification
For all her past exertion and soft phrases,
     In a most edifying conversation,
Which turned upon their late guests’ miens and faces,
     And families, even to the last relation;
Their hideous wives, their horrid selves and dresses,
And truculent distortion of their tresses.

110

True, she said little—’twas the rest that broke
     Forth into universal epigram;
But then ‘twas to the purpose what she spoke:
     Like Addison’s “faint praise,” so wont to damn,
Her own but served to set off every joke,
    As music chimes in with a melodrame.
How sweet the task to shield an absent friend!
I ask but this of mine, to—not defend.