Their chains so slight, 't was not worth while to break The world beheld them with indulgent air; The pious only wish'd "the devil take them!" He took them not; he very often waits, And leaves old sinners to be young ones' bai's. LX. This is the case in England; at least was The demagogues of fashion: all below LXI. Crush'd was Napoleon by the northern Thor, A blundering novice in his new French grammar; 'The more I should believe in her divinity. LXII. She rules the present, past, and all to be yet, LXIII. To turn, and to return;-the devil take it! It needs must be-and so it rather lingers; But must keep time and tune like public singers; They went to the Ridotto, ('t is a place may borrow May lurk beneath each mask, and as my sorrow Slackens its pace sometimes, I'll make, or find, Something shall leave it half an hour behind.) LXXXVII. The Count and Laura found their boat at last, The dancers and their dresses, too, beside; (As to their palace stairs the rowers glide) Sate Laura by the side of her Adorer, When lo! the Mussulman was there before her. LXXXVIII. 'Sir," said the Count, with brow exceeding grave, "Your unexpected presence here will make It necessary for myself to crave Its import? But perhaps 't is a mistake; I hope it is so; and at once to wave All compliment, I hope so for your sake; You understand my meaning, or you shall." Sir," (quoth the Turk,) "'t is no mistake at all. XCII. And are you really, truly, now a Turk? With any other women did you wive? Is 't true they use their fingers for a fork? Well, that's the prettiest shawl-as I'm alive! You'll give it me? They say you eat no pork. And how so many years did you contrive To-Bless me! did I ever? No, I never Saw a man grown so yellow! How's your liver? "Beppo! that beard of your's becomes you not; It shall be shaved before you're a day older: Why do you wear it? Oh! I had forgot Pray don't you think the weather here is colder? How do I look? You sha'n't stir from this spot In that queer dress, for fear that some beholder Should find you out, and make the story known. How short your hair is! Lord! how gray it's grown!" XCIV. What answer Beppo made to these demands Of pirates landing in a neighbouring bay, XCV. But he grew rich, and with his riches grew so And so he hired a vessel come from Spain, They reach'd the island, he transferr'd his lading, Or else the people would perhaps nave shot him : XCVIII. His wife received, the patriarch rebaptized him, XCIX. Whate'er his youth had suffer'd, his old age With wealth and talking made him some amends, Though Laura sometimes put him in a rage, I've heard the Count and he were always friends. My pen is at the bottom of a page, Which being finish'd, here the story ends; "T is to be wish'd it had been sooner done, But stories somehow lengthen when begun. Note 1, page 150, line 80. Lake the lost Pleiad seen no more below. Que septem dici ser tamen esse solent." OVID. Note 2, page 151, line 40. His name Giuseppe, called more briefly, Beppo. Beppo is the Joe of the Italian Joseph. Note 3, page 152, line 3. The Spaniards call the person a "Cortejo." rate, according to the Arabesque guttural. It means what there is as yet no precise name for in England, though the practice is as common as in any tramontane country whatever. Note 4, page 152, line 75. Raphael, who died in thy embrace. For the received accounts of the cause of Raphael's "Cortejo" is pronounced "Corteho," with an aspi- death, see his Lives. MAZEPPA. ADVERTISEMENT. "CELUI qui remplissait alors cette place était un gentilhomme Polonais, nommé Mazeppa, né dans le palatinat de Padolie; i avait été élevé page de Jean Casimir, et avait pris à sa cour quelque teinture des belles-lettres. Une intrigue qu'il eut dans sa jeunesse avec la femme d'un gentilhomme Polonais, ayant été découverte, le mari le fit lier tout nu sur un cheval farouche, et le laissa aller en cet état. Le cheval, qui était du pays de l'Ukraine, y retourna, et y porta Mazeppa, demi-mort de fatigue et de faim. Quelques paysans le secoururent: il resta longtems parmi eux, et se signala dans plusieurs courses contre les Tartares. La supériorité de ses lumières lui donna une grande considération parmi les Cosaques: sa réputation s'augmentant de jour en jour, obligea le Czar à le faire Prince de l'Ukraine."-VOLTAIRE, Hist. de Charles XII. p. 196. "Le roi fuyant et poursuivi eut son cheval tué sous lui; le Colonel Gieta, blessé, et perdant tout son sang, lui donna le sien. Ainsi on remit deux fois à cheval, dans la fuite, ce conquérant qui n'avait pu y monter pendant la bataille."-VOLTAIRE, Hist. de Charles XII. p. 216. "Le roi alla par un autre chemin avec quelques cavaliers. Le carrosse, où il était, rompit dans la marche; on le remit à cheval. Pour comble de disgrace, il s'égara pendant la nuit dans un bois; la, son courage ne pouvant plus suppléer à ses forces épuisées, les douleurs de sa blessure devenues plus insupportables par la fatigue, son cheval étant tombé de lassitude, il se coucha quelques heures au pied d'un arbre, en danger d'être surpris à tout moment par les vainqueurs qui le cherchaient de tous côtés.”—VOLTAIRE, Histoire de Charles XII. p. 218. 1. "T WAS after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede, Around a slaughter'd army lay, No more to combat and to bleed. The power and glory of the war, Faithless as their vain votaries, men, Had pass'd to the triumphant Czar, And Moscow's walls were safe again, Until a day more dark and drear, And a more memorable year, Should give to slaughter and to shame A mightier host and haughtier name; A greater wreck, a deeper fall, II. Such was the hazard of the die; The wounded Charles was taught to fly Are these the laurels and repose In outworn nature's agony; His wounds were stiff-his limbs were stark-. A band of chiefs!-alas! how few, And all are fellows in their need. |