Don Juan By Lord Byron Canto XVI

Now justices of peace must judge all pieces
  Of mischief of all kinds, and keep the game
And morals of the country from caprices
  Of those who have not a license for the same;
And of all things, excepting tithes and leases,
  Perhaps these are most difficult to tame:
Preserving partridges and pretty wenches
Are puzzles to the most precautious benches.

The present culprit was extremely pale,
  Pale as if painted so; her cheek being red
By nature, as in higher dames less hale
  'T is white, at least when they just rise from bed.
Perhaps she was ashamed of seeming frail,
  Poor soul! for she was country born and bred,
And knew no better in her immorality
Than to wax white — for blushes are for quality.

Her black, bright, downcast, yet espiegle eye,
  Had gather'd a large tear into its corner,
Which the poor thing at times essay'd to dry,
  For she was not a sentimental mourner
Parading all her sensibility,
  Nor insolent enough to scorn the scorner,
But stood in trembling, patient tribulation,
To be call'd up for her examination.

Of course these groups were scatter'd here and there,
  Not nigh the gay saloon of ladies gent.
The lawyers in the study; and in air
  The prize pig, ploughman, poachers; the men sent
From town, viz., architect and dealer, were
  Both busy (as a general in his tent
Writing despatches) in their several stations,
Exulting in their brilliant lucubrations.

But this poor girl was left in the great hall,
  While Scout, the parish guardian of the frail,
Discuss'd (he hated beer yclept the 'small')
  A mighty mug of moral double ale.
She waited until justice could recall
  Its kind attentions to their proper pale,
To name a thing in nomenclature rather
Perplexing for most virgins — a child's father.

You see here was enough of occupation
  For the Lord Henry, link'd with dogs and horses.
There was much bustle too, and preparation
  Below stairs on the score of second courses;
Because, as suits their rank and situation,
  Those who in counties have great land resources
Have 'Public days,' when all men may carouse,
Though not exactly what 's call'd 'open house.'

But once a week or fortnight, uninvited
  (Thus we translate a general invitation),
All country gentlemen, esquired or knighted,
  May drop in without cards, and take their station
At the full board, and sit alike delighted
  With fashionable wines and conversation;
And, as the isthmus of the grand connection,
Talk o'er themselves the past and next election.

Lord Henry was a great electioneerer,
  Burrowing for boroughs like a rat or rabbit;
But county contests cost him rather dearer,
  Because the neighbouring Scotch Earl of Giftgabbit
Had English influence in the self-same sphere here;
  His son, the Honourable Dick Dicedrabbit,
Was member for the 'other interest' (meaning
The same self-interest, with a different leaning).

Courteous and cautious therefore in his county,
  He was all things to all men, and dispensed
To some civility, to others bounty,
  And promises to all — which last commenced
To gather to a somewhat large amount, he
  Not calculating how much they condensed;
But what with keeping some, and breaking others,
His word had the same value as another's.

A friend to freedom and freeholders — yet
  No less a friend to government — he held,
That he exactly the just medium hit
  'Twixt place and patriotism — albeit compell'd,
Such was his sovereign's pleasure (though unfit,
  He added modestly, when rebels rail'd),
To hold some sinecures he wish'd abolish'd,
But that with them all law would be demolish'd.

He was 'free to confess' (whence comes this phrase?
  Is 't English? No — 't is only parliamentary)
That innovation's spirit now-a-days
  Had made more progress than for the last century.
He would not tread a factious path to praise,
  Though for the public weal disposed to venture high;
As for his place, he could but say this of it,
That the fatigue was greater than the profit.

Heaven, and his friends, knew that a private life
  Had ever been his sole and whole ambition;
But could he quit his king in times of strife,
  Which threaten'd the whole country with perdition?
When demagogues would with a butcher's knife
  Cut through and through (oh! damnable incision!)
The Gordian or the Geordi-an knot, whose strings
Have tied together commons, lords, and kings.

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