X. It is observed that ladies are litigious Upon all legal objects of possession, Which doubles what they think of the transgression. As the tribunals show through many a session, XI. Now, if this holds good in a christian land, And take what kings call "an imposing attitude;" And for their rights connubial make a stand, When their liege husbands treat them with ingratitude; And as four wives must have quadruple claims, The Tigris hath its jealousies like Thames. XII. Gulbeyaz was the fourth, and (as I said) The favourite; but what 's favour amongst four? Polygamy may well be held in dread, Not only as a sin, but as a bore: Most wise men, with one moderate woman wed, And all (except Mahometans) forbear To make the nuptial couch a "Bed of Ware." XIII. His highness, the sublimest of mankind,— To those sad hungry jacobins, the worms, (A" Highland welcome" all the wide world over). XIV. Now here we should distinguish; for howe'er Kisses, sweet words, May look like what is embraces, and all that neither here nor there; They are put on as XV. A slight blush, a soft tremor, a calm kind Of love, when seated on his loveliest throne, XVI. For over warmth, if false, is worse than truth; Would like (I think) to trust all to desire, And apt to be transferr'd to the first buyer At a sad discount : while your over chilly Women, on t' other hand, seem somewhat silly.— XVII. That is, we cannot pardon their bad taste; XVIII. The "tu 's too much, but let it stand-the verse Requires it, that 's to say, the English rhyme, And not the pink of old hexameters ; But, after all, there 's neither tune nor time In the last line, which cannot well be worse, And was thrust in to close the octave's chime : I own no prosody can ever rate it As a rule, Truth may, if you translate it. XIX. If fair Gulbeyaz overdid her part, I know not-it succeeded, and success Self-love in man too beats all female art; They lie, we lie, all lie, but love no less: And no one virtue yet, except starvation, Could stop that worst of vices-propagation. XX. We leave this royal couple to repose, A bed is not a throne, and they may sleep, Our least of sorrows are such as we weep; XXI. A scolding wife, a sullen son, a bill To pay, unpaid, protested or discounted At a per-centage; a child cross, dog ill, A favourite horse fallen lame just as he 's mounted; A bad old woman making a worse will, Which leaves you minus of the cash you counted As certain; these are paltry things, and yet I've rarely seen the man they did not fret. XXII. I'm a philosopher; confound them all! Bills, beasts, and men, and-no! not womankind! With one good hearty curse I vent my gall, And then my stoicism leaves nought behind Which it can either pain or evil call, And I can give my whole soul up to mind; Though what is soul or mind, their birth or growth, Is more than I know-the deuce take them both. XXIII. So now all things are d-n'd, one feels at ease, Which doth your true believer so much please : 'T is so sententious, positive, and terse, And decorates the book of Common Prayer, As doth a rainbow the just clearing air. XXIV. Gulbeyaz and her lord were sleeping, or At least one of them-Oh the heavy night! When wicked wives who love some bachelor Lie down in dudgeon to sigh for the light Of the gray morning, and look vainly for Its twinkle through the lattice dusky quite, To toss, to tumble, doze, revive, and quake Lest their too lawful bed-fellow should wake. XXV. These are beneath the canopy of heaven, XXVI. Don Juan in his feminine disguise, With all the damsels in their long array, XXVII. I love the sex, and sometimes would reverse And much more tender on the whole than fierce : XXVIII. Oh enviable Briareus! with thy hands And heads, if thou hadst all things multiplied In such proportion!-But my Muse withstands The giant thought of being a Titan's bride, Or travelling in Patagonian lands; So let us back to Lilliput, and guide Our hero through the labyrinth of love In which we left him several lines above. XXIX. He went forth with the lovely odalisques, Yet he could not at times keep by the way, (Although the consequences of such frisks Are worse than the worst damages men pay XXX.! Still he forgot not his disguise :-along The galleries from room to room they walk'd, A virgin-like and edifying throng, By eunuchs flank'd; while at their head there stalk'd A dame who kept up discipline among The female ranks, so that none stirr'd or talk'd Without her sanction on their she-parades : Her title was "the Mother of the Maids." XXXI. Whether she was a "mother," I know not, Or whether they were "maids" who call'd her mother; But this is her seraglio title, got I know not how, but good as any other; So Cantemir can tell you, or De Tott: Her office was to keep aloof or smother All bad propensities in fifteen hundred Young women, and correct them when they blunder'd. XXXII. A goodly sinecure, no doubt! but made More easy by the absence of all men Except his Majesty, who, with her aid, And guards, and bolts, and walls, and now and then A slight example, just to cast a shade Along the rest, contrived to keep this den Of beauties cool as an Italian convent, Where all the passions have, alas! but one vent. XXXIII. And what is that? Devotion, doubtless-how Of ladies of all countries at the will Of one good man, with stately march and slow, XXXIV. But when they reach'd their own apartments, there, When freed from bonds (which are of no great use Their guards being gone, and, as it were, a truce |