Don Juan By Lord Byron Canto V

'Farewell!' said Juan: 'should we meet no more,
  I wish you a good appetite.' — 'Farewell!'
Replied the other; 'though it grieves me sore;
  When we next meet we 'll have a tale to tell:
We needs must follow when Fate puts from shore.
  Keep your good name; though Eve herself once fell.'
'Nay,' quoth the maid, 'the Sultan's self shan't carry me,
Unless his highness promises to marry me.

And thus they parted, each by separate doors;
  Baba led Juan onward room by room
Through glittering galleries and o'er marble floors,
  Till a gigantic portal through the gloom,
Haughty and huge, along the distance lowers;
  And wafted far arose a rich perfume:
It seem'd as though they came upon a shrine,
For all was vast, still, fragrant, and divine.

The giant door was broad, and bright, and high,
  Of gilded bronze, and carved in curious guise;
Warriors thereon were battling furiously;
  Here stalks the victor, there the vanquish'd lies;
There captives led in triumph droop the eye,
  And in perspective many a squadron flies:
It seems the work of times before the line
Of Rome transplanted fell with Constantine.

This massy portal stood at the wide close
  Of a huge hall, and on its either side
Two little dwarfs, the least you could suppose,
  Were sate, like ugly imps, as if allied
In mockery to the enormous gate which rose
  O'er them in almost pyramidic pride:
The gate so splendid was in all its features,
You never thought about those little creatures,

Until you nearly trod on them, and then
  You started back in horror to survey
The wondrous hideousness of those small men,
  Whose colour was not black, nor white, nor grey,
But an extraneous mixture, which no pen
  Can trace, although perhaps the pencil may;
They were mis-shapen pigmies, deaf and dumb —
Monsters, who cost a no less monstrous sum.

Their duty was — for they were strong, and though
  They look'd so little, did strong things at times —
To ope this door, which they could really do,
  The hinges being as smooth as Rogers' rhymes;
And now and then, with tough strings of the bow,
  As is the custom of those Eastern climes,
To give some rebel Pacha a cravat;
For mutes are generally used for that.

They spoke by signs — that is, not spoke at all;
  And looking like two incubi, they glared
As Baba with his fingers made them fall
  To heaving back the portal folds: it scared
Juan a moment, as this pair so small
  With shrinking serpent optics on him stared;
It was as if their little looks could poison
Or fascinate whome'er they fix'd their eyes on.

Before they enter'd, Baba paused to hint
  To Juan some slight lessons as his guide:
'If you could just contrive,' he said, 'to stint
  That somewhat manly majesty of stride,
'T would be as well, and (though there 's not much in 't)
  To swing a little less from side to side,
Which has at times an aspect of the oddest; —
And also could you look a little modest,

''T would be convenient; for these mutes have eyes
  Like needles, which may pierce those petticoats;
And if they should discover your disguise,
  You know how near us the deep Bosphorus floats;
And you and I may chance, ere morning rise,
  To find our way to Marmora without boats,
Stitch'd up in sacks — a mode of navigation
A good deal practised here upon occasion.'

With this encouragement, he led the way
  Into a room still nobler than the last;
A rich confusion form'd a disarray
  In such sort, that the eye along it cast
Could hardly carry anything away,
  Object on object flash'd so bright and fast;
A dazzling mass of gems, and gold, and glitter,
Magnificently mingled in a litter.

Wealth had done wonders — taste not much; such things
  Occur in Orient palaces, and even
In the more chasten'd domes of Western kings
  (Of which I have also seen some six or seven),
Where I can't say or gold or diamond flings
  Great lustre, there is much to be forgiven;
Groups of bad statues, tables, chairs, and pictures,
On which I cannot pause to make my strictures.

In this imperial hall, at distance lay
  Under a canopy, and there reclined
Quite in a confidential queenly way,
  A lady; Baba stopp'd, and kneeling sign'd
To Juan, who though not much used to pray,
  Knelt down by instinct, wondering in his mind,
What all this meant: while Baba bow'd and bended
His head, until the ceremony ended.

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