She ceased, and turn'd upon her pillow; pale She lay, her dark eyes flashing through their tears, Like skies that rain and lighten; as a veil, Waved and o'ershading her wan cheek, appears Her streaming hair; the black curls strive, but fail, To hide the glossy shoulder, which uprears Its snow through all;- her soft lips lie apart, And louder than her breathing beats her heart.
The Senhor Don Alfonso stood confused;
Antonia bustled round the ransack'd room, And, turning up her nose, with looks abused Her master and his myrmidons, of whom Not one, except the attorney, was amused;
He, like Achates, faithful to the tomb, So there were quarrels, cared not for the cause, Knowing they must be settled by the laws.
With prying snub-nose, and small eyes, he stood, Following Antonia's motions here and there, With much suspicion in his attitude;
For reputations he had little care;
So that a suit or action were made good, Small pity had he for the young and fair, And ne'er believed in negatives, till these Were proved by competent false witnesses.
But Don Alfonso stood with downcast looks, And, truth to say, he made a foolish figure;
When, after searching in five hundred nooks, And treating a young wife with so much rigour, He gain'd no point, except some self-rebukes, Added to those his lady with such vigour Had pour'd upon him for the last half-hour, Quick, thick, and heavy- as a thunder-shower.
At first he tried to hammer an excuse, To which the sole reply was tears and sobs, And indications of hysterics, whose Prologue is always certain throes, and throbs, Gasps, and whatever else the owners choose:
Alfonso saw his wife, and thought of Job's;
He saw too, in perspective, her relations, And then he tried to muster all his patience.
He stood in act to speak, or rather stammer, But sage Antonia cut him short before The anvil of his speech received the hammer, With 'Pray, sir, leave the room, and say no more, Or madam dies.'- Alfonso mutter'd, 'D- n her,'
But nothing else, the time of words was o'er;
He cast a rueful look or two, and did, He knew not wherefore, that which he was bid.
With him retired his 'posse comitatus,'
The attorney last, who linger'd near the door Reluctantly, still tarrying there as late as Antonia let him- not a little sore At this most strange and unexplain'd 'hiatus'
In Don Alfonso's facts, which just now wore An awkward look; as he revolved the case, The door was fasten'd in his legal face.
No sooner was it bolted, than- Oh shame!
Oh sin! Oh sorrow! and oh womankind!
How can you do such things and keep your fame, Unless this world, and t' other too, be blind?
Nothing so dear as an unfilch'd good name!
But to proceed- for there is more behind:
With much heartfelt reluctance be it said, Young Juan slipp'd half-smother'd, from the bed.
He had been hid- I don't pretend to say How, nor can I indeed describe the where-Young, slender, and pack'd easily, he lay, No doubt, in little compass, round or square;
But pity him I neither must nor may His suffocation by that pretty pair;
'T were better, sure, to die so, than be shut With maudlin Clarence in his Malmsey butt.
And, secondly, I pity not, because He had no business to commit a sin, Forbid by heavenly, fined by human laws, At least 't was rather early to begin;
But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So much as when we call our old debts in At sixty years, and draw the accompts of evil, And find a deuced balance with the devil.
Of his position I can give no notion:
'T is written in the Hebrew Chronicle, How the physicians, leaving pill and potion, Prescribed, by way of blister, a young belle, When old King David's blood grew dull in motion, And that the medicine answer'd very well;
Perhaps 't was in a different way applied, For David lived, but Juan nearly died.
What 's to be done? Alfonso will be back The moment he has sent his fools away.
Antonia's skill was put upon the rack, But no device could be brought into play-And how to parry the renew'd attack?
Besides, it wanted but few hours of day:
Antonia puzzled; Julia did not speak, But press'd her bloodless lip to Juan's cheek.
He turn'd his lip to hers, and with his hand Call'd back the tangles of her wandering hair;
Even then their love they could not all command, And half forgot their danger and despair:
Antonia's patience now was at a stand-'Come, come, 't is no time now for fooling there,'
She whisper'd, in great wrath- 'I must deposit This pretty gentleman within the closet:
'Pray, keep your nonsense for some luckier night-Who can have put my master in this mood?
What will become on 't- I 'm in such a fright, The devil 's in the urchin, and no good-Is this a time for giggling? this a plight?
Why, don't you know that it may end in blood?
You 'll lose your life, and I shall lose my place, My mistress all, for that half-girlish face.
'Had it but been for a stout cavalier Of twenty-five or thirty (come, make haste)-But for a child, what piece of work is here!
I really, madam, wonder at your taste (Come, sir, get in)- my master must be near:
There, for the present, at the least, he's fast, And if we can but till the morning keep Our counsel- (Juan, mind, you must not sleep).'
Now, Don Alfonso entering, but alone, Closed the oration of the trusty maid:
She loiter'd, and he told her to be gone, An order somewhat sullenly obey'd;
However, present remedy was none, And no great good seem'd answer'd if she stay'd:
Regarding both with slow and sidelong view, She snuff'd the candle, curtsied, and withdrew.
Alfonso paused a minute- then begun Some strange excuses for his late proceeding;
He would not justify what he had done, To say the best, it was extreme ill-breeding;
But there were ample reasons for it, none Of which he specified in this his pleading:
His speech was a fine sample, on the whole, Of rhetoric, which the learn'd call 'rigmarole.'
