Don Juan By Lord Byron Canto VI

'You, Lolah, must continue still to lie
  Alone, for reasons which don't matter; you
The same, Katinka, until by and by;
  And I shall place Juanna with Dudu,
Who 's quiet, inoffensive, silent, shy,
  And will not toss and chatter the night through.
What say you, child?' — Dudu said nothing, as
Her talents were of the more silent class;

But she rose up, and kiss'd the matron's brow
  Between the eyes, and Lolah on both cheeks,
Katinka, too; and with a gentle bow
  (Curt'sies are neither used by Turks nor Greeks)
She took Juanna by the hand to show
  Their place of rest, and left to both their piques,
The others pouting at the matron's preference
Of Dudu, though they held their tongues from deference.

It was a spacious chamber (Oda is
  The Turkish title), and ranged round the wall
Were couches, toilets — and much more than this
  I might describe, as I have seen it all,
But it suffices — little was amiss;
  'Twas on the whole a nobly furnish'd hall,
With all things ladies want, save one or two,
And even those were nearer than they knew.

Dudu, as has been said, was a sweet creature,
  Not very dashing, but extremely winning,
With the most regulated charms of feature,
  Which painters cannot catch like faces sinning
Against proportion — the wild strokes of nature
  Which they hit off at once in the beginning,
Full of expression, right or wrong, that strike,
And pleasing or unpleasing, still are like.

But she was a soft landscape of mild earth,
  Where all was harmony, and calm, and quiet,
Luxuriant, budding; cheerful without mirth,
  Which, if not happiness, is much more nigh it
Than are your mighty passions and so forth,
  Which some call 'the sublime:' I wish they 'd try it:
I 've seen your stormy seas and stormy women,
And pity lovers rather more than seamen.

But she was pensive more than melancholy,
  And serious more than pensive, and serene,
It may be, more than either — not unholy
  Her thoughts, at least till now, appear to have been.
The strangest thing was, beauteous, she was wholly
  Unconscious, albeit turn'd of quick seventeen,
That she was fair, or dark, or short, or tall;
She never thought about herself at all.

And therefore was she kind and gentle as
  The Age of Gold (when gold was yet unknown,
By which its nomenclature came to pass;
  Thus most appropriately has been shown
'Lucus a non lucendo,' not what was,
  But what was not; a sort of style that 's grown
Extremely common in this age, whose metal
The devil may decompose, but never settle:

I think it may be of 'Corinthian Brass,'
  Which was a mixture of all metals, but
The brazen uppermost). Kind reader! pass
  This long parenthesis: I could not shut
It sooner for the soul of me, and class
  My faults even with your own! which meaneth, Put
A kind construction upon them and me:
But that you won't — then don't — I am not less free.

'Tis time we should return to plain narration,
  And thus my narrative proceeds: — Dudu,
With every kindness short of ostentation,
  Show'd Juan, or Juanna, through and through
This labyrinth of females, and each station
  Described — what 's strange — in words extremely few:
I have but one simile, and that 's a blunder,
For wordless woman, which is silent thunder.

And next she gave her (I say her, because
  The gender still was epicene, at least
In outward show, which is a saving clause)
  An outline of the customs of the East,
With all their chaste integrity of laws,
  By which the more a haram is increased,
The stricter doubtless grow the vestal duties
Of any supernumerary beauties.

And then she gave Juanna a chaste kiss:
  Dudu was fond of kissing — which I 'm sure
That nobody can ever take amiss,
  Because 'tis pleasant, so that it be pure,
And between females means no more than this —
  That they have nothing better near, or newer.
'Kiss' rhymes to 'bliss' in fact as well as verse —
I wish it never led to something worse.

In perfect innocence she then unmade
  Her toilet, which cost little, for she was
A child of Nature, carelessly array'd:
  If fond of a chance ogle at her glass,
'Twas like the fawn, which, in the lake display'd,
  Beholds her own shy, shadowy image pass,
When first she starts, and then returns to peep,
Admiring this new native of the deep.

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