LII.

I call such things transmission; for there is

A floating balance of accomplishment
Which forms a pedigree from Miss to Miss,
According as their minds or backs are bent.
Some waltz; some draw; some fathom the abyss
Of metaphysics; others are content

With music; the most moderate shine as wits,

While others have a genius turned for fits.

LIII.

But whether fits, or wits, or harpsichords,
Theology, Fine Arts, or finer stays

May be the baits for gentlemen or lords,

With regular descent, in these our days The last

year to the new transfers its hoards;

New vestals claim men's eyes with the same praise

Of" elegant" et cetera, in fresh batches

All matchless creatures and yet bent on matches.

LIV.

But now I will begin my poem.-'Tis

Perhaps a little strange, if not quite new, That from the first of Cantos up to this

I've not begun what we have to go through. These first twelve books are merely flourishes, Preludios, trying just a string or two

Upon my lyre, or making the pegs sure;

And when so, you shall have the overture.

LV.

My Muses do not care a pinch of rosin

About what's called success, or not succeeding:

Such thoughts are quite below the strain they have

chosen;

"Tis a "great moral lesson" they are reading.

I thought, at setting off, about two dozen
Cantos would do; but at Apollo's pleading,
If that my Pegasus should not be foundered,
I think to canter gently through a hundred.

LVI.

Don Juan saw that microcosm on stilts,

Yclept the Great World; for it is the least, Although the highest: but as swords have hilts By which their power of mischief is encreased, When man in battle or in quarrel tilts,

Thus the low world, north, south, or west, or east,

Must still obey the high-which is their handle,

Their moon, their sun, their gas, their farthing candle.

LVII.

He had many friends who had many wives, and was Well looked upon by both, to that extent

Of friendship which you may accept or pass,

It does nor good nor harm; being merely meant To keep the wheels going of the higher class,

And draw them nightly when a ticket's sent : And what with masquerades, and fêtes, and balls, For the first season such a life scarce palls.

C

A young

LVIII.

unmarried man, with a good name

And fortune, has an awkward part to play;

For good society is but a game,

"The royal game of Goose," as I may say,
Where every body has some separate aim,
An end to answer, or a plan to lay-

The single ladies wishing to be double,
The married ones to save the virgins trouble.

LIX.

I don't mean this as general, but particular
Examples may be found of such pursuits :
Though several also keep their perpendicular

Like poplars, with good principles for roots;
Yet many have a method more reticular-

66

Fishers for men," like Sirens with soft lutes: For talk six times with the same single lady,

And you may get the wedding dresses ready.

LX.

Perhaps you'll have a letter from the mother,

To say her daughter's feelings are trepanned; Perhaps you'll have a visit from the brother,

All strut and stays and whiskers, to demand What " your intentions are ?”—One way or other It seems the virgin's heart expects your hand; And between pity for her case and yours,

You'll add to Matrimony's list of cures.

LXI.

I've known a dozen weddings made even thus,

And some of them high names: I have also known

Young men who-though they hated to discuss

Pretensions which they never dreamed to have shown—

Yet neither frightened by a female fuss,

Nor by mustachios moved, were let alone,
And lived, as did the broken-hearted fair,
In happier plight than if they formed a pair.