Don Juan By Lord Byron Canto XV

And fruits, and ice, and all that art refines
  From nature for the service of the gout —
Taste or the gout, — pronounce it as inclines
  Your stomach! Ere you dine, the French will do;
But after, there are sometimes certain signs
  Which prove plain English truer of the two.
Hast ever had the gout? I have not had it —
But I may have, and you too, reader, dread it.

The simple olives, best allies of wine,
  Must I pass over in my bill of fare?
I must, although a favourite 'plat' of mine
  In Spain, and Lucca, Athens, every where:
On them and bread 't was oft my luck to dine,
  The grass my table-cloth, in open-air,
On Sunium or Hymettus, like Diogenes,
Of whom half my philosophy the progeny is.

Amidst this tumult of fish, flesh, and 'fowl,
  And vegetables, all in masquerade,
The guests were placed according to their roll,
  But various as the various meats display'd:
Don Juan sat next 'an l'Espagnole'-
  No damsel, but a dish, as hath been said;
But so far like a lady, that 't was drest
Superbly, and contain'd a world of zest.

By some odd chance too, he was placed between
  Aurora and the Lady Adeline —
A situation difficult, I ween,
  For man therein, with eyes and heart, to dine.
Also the conference which we have seen
  Was not such as to encourage him to shine;
For Adeline, addressing few words to him,
With two transcendent eyes seem'd to look through him.

I sometimes almost think that eyes have ears:
  This much is sure, that, out of earshot, things
Are somehow echoed to the pretty dears,
  Of which I can't tell whence their knowledge springs.
Like that same mystic music of the spheres,
  Which no one bears, so loudly though it rings,
'T is wonderful how oft the sex have heard
Long dialogues — which pass'd without a word!

Aurora sat with that indifference
  Which piques a preux chevalier — as it ought:
Of all offences that 's the worst offence,
  Which seems to hint you are not worth a thought.
Now Juan, though no coxcomb in pretence,
  Was not exactly pleased to be so caught;
Like a good ship entangled among ice,
And after so much excellent advice.

To his gay nothings, nothing was replied,
  Or something which was nothing, as urbanity
Required. Aurora scarcely look'd aside,
  Nor even smiled enough for any vanity.
The devil was in the girl! Could it be pride?
  Or modesty, or absence, or inanity?
Heaven knows? But Adeline's malicious eyes
Sparkled with her successful prophecies,

And look'd as much as if to say, 'I said it;'
  A kind of triumph I 'll not recommend,
Because it sometimes, as I have seen or read it,
  Both in the case of lover and of friend,
Will pique a gentleman, for his own credit,
  To bring what was a jest to a serious end:
For all men prophesy what is or was,
And hate those who won't let them come to pass.

Juan was drawn thus into some attentions,
  Slight but select, and just enough to express,
To females of perspicuous comprehensions,
  That he would rather make them more than less.
Aurora at the last (so history mentions,
  Though probably much less a fact than guess)
So far relax'd her thoughts from their sweet prison,
As once or twice to smile, if not to listen.

From answering she began to question; this
  With her was rare: and Adeline, who as yet
Thought her predictions went not much amiss,
  Began to dread she'd thaw to a coquette —
So very difficult, they say, it is
  To keep extremes from meeting, when once set
In motion; but she here too much refined —
Aurora's spirit was not of that kind.

But Juan had a sort of winning way,
  A proud humility, if such there be,
Which show'd such deference to what females say,
  As if each charming word were a decree.
His tact, too, temper'd him from grave to gay,
  And taught him when to be reserved or free:
He had the art of drawing people out,
Without their seeing what he was about.

Aurora, who in her indifference
  Confounded him in common with the crowd
Of flatterers, though she deem'd he had more sense
  Than whispering foplings, or than witlings loud —
Commenced (from such slight things will great commence)
  To feel that flattery which attracts the proud
Rather by deference than compliment,
And wins even by a delicate dissent.

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