CLVI.

For we all know that English people are
Fed upon beef-I won't say much of beer,
Because 'tis liquor only; and being far

From this my subject, has no business here;
We know, too, they are very fond of war,
A pleasure-like all pleasures-rather dear;
So were the Cretans - from which I infer

That beef and battles both were owing to her.

CLVII.

But to resume. The languid Juan raised
His head upon his elbow, and he saw
A sight on which he had not lately gazed,
As all his latter meals had been quite raw,
Three or four things, for which the Lord he praised,
And, feeling still the famish'd vulture gnaw,
He fell upon whate'er was offer'd, like

A priest, a shark, an alderman, or pike.

CLVIII.

He ate, and he was well supplied; and she,
Who watch'd him like a mother, would have fed
Him past all bounds, because she smiled to see
Such appetite in one she had deem'd dead:
But Zoe, being older than Haidee,

Knew (by tradition, for she ne'er had read)
That famish'd people must be slowly nurst,
And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst.

CLIX.

And so she took the liberty to state,

Rather by deeds than words, because the case Was urgent, that the gentleman, whose fate Had made her mistress quit her bed to trace The sea-shore at this hour, must leave his plate, Unless he wish'd to die

upon

the place

She snatch'd it, and refused another morsel,

Saying, he had gorged enough to make a horse ill.

Next they

CLX.

he being naked, save a tatter'd

Pair of scarce decent trowsers went to work, And in the fire his recent rags they scatter'd,

And dress'd him, for the present, like a Turk, Or Greck - that is, although it not much matter'd, Omitting turban, slippers, pistols, dirk,They furnish'd him, entire except some stitches, With a clean shirt, and very spacious breeches.

CLXI.

And then fair Haidee tried her tongue at speaking, But not a word could Juan comprehend, Although he listen'd so that the young Greek in Her earnestness would ne'er have made an end;

And, as he interrupted not, went eking

Her speech out to her protegé and friend, Till pausing at the last her breath to take, She saw he did not understand Romaic.

CLXII.

And then she had recourse to nods, and signs,
And smiles, and sparkles of the speaking eye,
And read (the only book she could) the lines
Of his fair face, and found, by sympathy,
The answer eloquent, where the soul shines
And darts in one quick glance a long reply;
And thus in every look she saw exprest

A world of words, and things at which she guess'd.

CLXIII.

And now, by dint of fingers and of eyes,
And words repeated after her, he took
A lesson in her tongue; but by surmise,

No doubt, less of her language than her look: As he who studies fervently the skies

Turns oftener to the stars than to his book, Thus Juan learn'd his alpha beta better From Haidee's glance than any graven letter.

CLXIV.

"Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue

that is, I mean,

By female lips and eyes When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been; They smile so when one's right, and when one's wrong

They smile still more, and then there intervene Pressure of hands, perhaps even a chaste kiss; I learn'd the little that I know by this:

CLXV.

That is, some words of Spanish, Turk, and Greek,
Italian not at all, having no teachers;

Much English I cannot pretend to speak,
Learning that language chiefly from its preachers,
Barrow, South, Tillotson, whom every week
I study, also Blair, the highest reachers
Of eloquence in piety and prose

I hate your poets, so read none of those.