LVII. She married (I forget the pedigree) With an Hidalgo, who transmitted down In that point so precise in each degree That they bred in and in, as might be shown, Marrying their cousins-nay, their aunts, and nieces, Which always spoils the breed, if it increases. LVIII. This heathenish cross restored the breed again, Ruin'd its blood, but much improved its flesh; For from a root the ugliest in Old Spain Sprung up a branch as beautiful as fresh; The sons no more were short, the daughters plain : But there's a rumour which I fain would hush, (1) 'Tis said that Donna Julia's grandmamma Produced her Don more heirs at love than law. LIX. However this might be, the race went on Who left an only daughter; my narration Could be but Julia (whom on this occasion I shall have much to speak about), and she Was married, charming, chaste, and twenty-three. (1) [MS. "I'll tell you too a secret- -{silence! hush! which you LX. Her eye (I'm very fond of handsome eyes) Flash'd an expression more of pride than ire, A something in them which was not desire, But would have been, perhaps, but for the soul Which struggled through and chasten'd down the whole. LXI. Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow As if her veins ran lightning; she, in sooth, Possess'd an air and grace by no means common: Her stature tall-I hate a dumpy woman. LXII. Wedded she was some years, and to a man 'Twere better to have Two of five-and-twenty, Especially in countries near the sun : And now I think on't, “ mi vien in mente,” Ladies even of the most uneasy virtue Prefer a spouse whose age is short of thirty.(1) (1) [MS." Spouses from twenty years of age to thirty LXIII. 'Tis a sad thing, I cannot choose but say, The flesh is frail, and so the soul undone : LXIV. Happy the nations of the moral North! Where all is virtue, and the winter season Sends sin, without a rag on, shivering forth ('Twas snow that brought St. Anthony (1) to reason); Where juries cast up what a wife is worth, By laying whate'er sum, in mulct, they please on The lover, who must pay a handsome price, Because it is a marketable vice. LXV. Alfonso was the name of Julia's lord, A man well looking for his years, and who Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, (1) For the particulars of St. Anthony's recipe for hot blood in cold weather, see Mr. Alban Butler's "Lives of the Saints." LXVI. Julia was-yet I never could see why- For malice still imputes some private end) LXVII. And that still keeping up the old connection, And certainly this course was much the best: LXVIII. I can't tell whether Julia saw the affair Of this, at least no symptom e'er was shown; LXIX. Juan she saw, and, as a pretty child, Caress'd him often-such a thing might be Quite innocently done, and harmless styled, When she had twenty years, and thirteen he; But I am not so sure I should have smiled When he was sixteen, Julia twenty-three; These few short years make wondrous alterations, Particularly amongst sun-burnt nations. LXX. Whate'er the cause might be, they had become But as for Juan, he had no more notion LXXI. Yet Julia's very coldness still was kind, A little pressure, thrilling, and so bland 'Twas but a doubt; but ne'er magician's wand Wrought change with all Armida's fairy art Like what this light touch left on Juan's heart. |