CXLVII.
"Is it for this I have disdained to hold The common privileges of my s.e.x?
That I have chosen a confessor so old And deaf, that any other it would vex, And never once he has had cause to scold, But found my very innocence perplex So much, he always doubted I was married-- How sorry you will be when I"ve miscarried!
CXLVIII.
"Was it for this that no Cortejo[74] e"er I yet have chosen from out the youth of Seville?
Is it for this I scarce went anywhere, Except to bull-fights, ma.s.s, play, rout, and revel?
Is it for this, whate"er my suitors were, I favoured none--nay, was almost uncivil?
Is it for this that General Count O"Reilly, Who took Algiers,[75] declares I used him vilely?
CXLIX.
"Did not the Italian _Musico_ Cazzani Sing at my heart six months at least in vain?
Did not his countryman, Count Corniani,[76]
Call me the only virtuous wife in Spain?
Were there not also Russians, English, many?
The Count Strongstroganoff I put in pain, And Lord Mount Coffeehouse, the Irish peer, Who killed himself for love (with wine) last year.
CL.
"Have I not had two bishops at my feet?
The Duke of Ichar, and Don Fernan Nunez; And is it thus a faithful wife you treat?
I wonder in what quarter now the moon is: I praise your vast forbearance not to beat Me also, since the time so opportune is-- Oh, valiant man! with sword drawn and c.o.c.ked trigger, Now, tell me, don"t you cut a pretty figure?
CLI.
"Was it for this you took your sudden journey, Under pretence of business indispensable With that sublime of rascals your attorney, Whom I see standing there, and looking sensible Of having played the fool? though both I spurn, he Deserves the worst, his conduct"s less defensible, Because, no doubt, "t was for his dirty fee, And not from any love to you nor me.
CLII.
"If he comes here to take a deposition, By all means let the gentleman proceed; You"ve made the apartment in a fit condition:-- There"s pen and ink for you, sir, when you need-- Let everything be noted with precision, I would not you for nothing should be fee"d-- But, as my maid"s undressed, pray turn your spies out."
"Oh!" sobbed Antonia, "I could tear their eyes out."
CLIII.
"There is the closet, there the toilet, there The antechamber--search them under, over; There is the sofa, there the great arm-chair, The chimney--which would really hold a lover.[ae]
I wish to sleep, and beg you will take care And make no further noise, till you discover The secret cavern of this lurking treasure-- And when "t is found, let me, too, have that pleasure.
CLIV.
"And now, Hidalgo! now that you have thrown Doubt upon me, confusion over all, Pray have the courtesy to make it known _Who_ is the man you search for? how d" ye call Him? what"s his lineage? let him but be shown-- I hope he"s young and handsome--is he tall?
Tell me--and be a.s.sured, that since you stain My honour thus, it shall not be in vain.
CLV.
"At least, perhaps, he has not sixty years, At that age he would be too old for slaughter, Or for so young a husband"s jealous fears-- (Antonia! let me have a gla.s.s of water.) I am ashamed of having shed these tears, They are unworthy of my father"s daughter; My mother dreamed not in my natal hour, That I should fall into a monster"s power.
CLVI.
"Perhaps "t is of Antonia you are jealous, You saw that she was sleeping by my side, When you broke in upon us with your fellows: Look where you please--we"ve nothing, sir, to hide; Only another time, I trust, you"ll tell us, Or for the sake of decency abide A moment at the door, that we may be Dressed to receive so much good company.
CLVII.
"And now, sir, I have done, and say no more; The little I have said may serve to show The guileless heart in silence may grieve o"er[af]
The wrongs to whose exposure it is slow:-- I leave you to your conscience as before, "T will one day ask you _why_ you used me so?
G.o.d grant you feel not then the bitterest grief!-- Antonia! where"s my pocket-handkerchief?"
CLVIII.
She ceased, and turned upon her pillow; pale She lay, her dark eyes flashing through their tears, Like skies that rain and lighten; as a veil, Waved and o"ershading her wan cheek, appears Her streaming hair; the black curls strive, but fail To hide the glossy shoulder, which uprears Its snow through all;--her soft lips lie apart, And louder than her breathing beats her heart.
CLIX.
The Senhor Don Alfonso stood confused; Antonia bustled round the ransacked room, And, turning up her nose, with looks abused Her master, and his myrmidons, of whom Not one, except the attorney, was amused; He, like Achates, faithful to the tomb, So there were quarrels, cared not for the cause, Knowing they must be settled by the laws.
CLX.
With prying snub-nose, and small eyes, he stood, Following Antonia"s motions here and there, With much suspicion in his att.i.tude; For reputations he had little care; So that a suit or action were made good, Small pity had he for the young and fair, And ne"er believed in negatives, till these Were proved by competent false witnesses.
CLXI.
But Don Alfonso stood with downcast looks, And, truth to say, he made a foolish figure; When, after searching in five hundred nooks, And treating a young wife with so much rigour, He gained no point, except some self-rebukes, Added to those his lady with such vigour Had poured upon him for the last half-hour, Quick, thick, and heavy--as a thunder-shower.
CLXII.
At first he tried to hammer an excuse, To which the sole reply was tears, and sobs, And indications of hysterics, whose Prologue is always certain throes, and throbs, Gasps, and whatever else the owners choose: Alfonso saw his wife, and thought of Job"s;[77]
He saw too, in perspective, her relations, And then he tried to muster all his patience.
CLXIII.
He stood in act to speak, or rather stammer, But sage Antonia cut him short before The anvil of his speech received the hammer, With "Pray, sir, leave the room, and say no more, Or madam dies."--Alfonso muttered, "D--n her,"[78]
But nothing else, the time of words was o"er; He cast a rueful look or two, and did, He knew not wherefore, that which he was bid.
CLXIV.
With him retired his _"posse comitatus,"_ The attorney last, who lingered near the door Reluctantly, still tarrying there as late as Antonia let him--not a little sore At this most strange and unexplained "_hiatus_"
In Don Alfonso"s facts, which just now wore An awkward look; as he revolved the case, The door was fastened in his legal face.
CLXV.
No sooner was it bolted, than--Oh Shame!
Oh Sin! Oh Sorrow! and Oh Womankind!
How can you do such things and keep your fame, Unless this world, and t" other too, be blind?
Nothing so dear as an unfilched good name!
But to proceed--for there is more behind: With much heartfelt reluctance be it said, Young Juan slipped, half-smothered, from the bed.
CLXVI.