LVII.

Catherine, who was the grand epitome

Of that great cause of war, or peace, or what You please (it causes all the things which be, So you may take your choice of this or that) — Catherine, I say, was very glad to see

The handsome herald, on whose plumage sat Victory; and, pausing as she saw him kneel With his despatch, forgot to break the seal. (1)

LVIII.

Then recollecting the whole empress, nor Forgetting quite the woman (which composed At least three parts of this great whole), she tore The letter open with an air which posed

The court, that watch'd each look her visage wore, Until a royal smile at length disclosed

Fair weather for the day. Though rather spacious, Her face was noble, her eyes fine, mouth gracious. (2)

(1) [The union of debauchery and ferocity which characterised Catherine, are admirably depicted in her manner of feeding her ambition with the perusal of the dispatch, and gratifying her rising passion with the contemplation of Juan; who, in spite of the jealousy and murmurings of rival expectants and candidates, is fairly installed into the " high official situation" of Catherine's favourite. CAMPBELL.]

(2) ["Catherine had been handsome in her youth, and she preserved a gracefulness and majesty to the last period of her life. She was of a moderate stature, but well proportioned; and as she carried her head very high, she appeared rather tall. She had an open front, an aquiline nose, an agreeable mouth, and her chin, though long, was not misshapen. Her hair was auburn, her eyebrows black and rather thick, and her blue eyes had a gentleness which was often affected, but oftener still a mixture of pride. Her physiognomy was not deficient in expression; but this expression never discovered what was passing in the soul of Catherine, or rather it served her the better to disguise it."- TOOKE]

LIX.

Great joy was hers, or rather joys: the first
Was a ta'en city, thirty thousand slain.
Glory and triumph o'er her aspect burst,
As an East Indian sunrise on the main.
These quench'd a moment her ambition's thirst—
So Arab deserts drink in summer's rain:
In vain ! As fall the dews on quenchless sands,
Blood only serves to wash Ambition's hands!

LX.

Her next amusement was more fanciful;

She smiled at mad Suwarrow's rhymes, who threw Into a Russian couplet rather dull

The whole gazette of thousands whom he slew. (1) Her third was feminine enough to annul

The shudder which runs naturally through

Our veins, when things call'd sovereigns think it best To kill, and generals turn it into jest.

LXI.

The two first feelings ran their course complete, And lighted first her eye, and then her mouth: The whole court look'd immediately most sweet, Like flowers well water'd after a long drouth :But when on the lieutenant at her feet

Her majesty, who liked to gaze on youth Almost as much as on a new despatch,

Glanced mildly, all the world was on the watch.

(1) ["Suwarrow is as singular for the brevity of his style as for the rapidity of his conquests. On the taking Tourtourkaya, in Bulgaria, he actually wrote no more to the empress than two lines of Russ poetry: 'Slawo Bogon, Slawo bowam, Glory to God, glory to you, Tourtourkaya aviala, ia tam,

Tourtourkaya is taken, here am I.'"-TOOKE.]

LXII.

Though somewhat large, exuberant, and truculent, When wroth-while pleased, she was as fine a figure As those who like things rosy, ripe, and succulent, Would wish to look on, while they are in vigour. She could repay each amatory look you lent

With interest, and in turn was wont with rigour To exact of Cupid's bills the full amount At sight, nor would permit you to discount.

LXIII.

With her the latter, though at times convenient,
Was not so necessary; for they tell [lenient,
That she was handsome, and though fierce look'd
And always used her favourites too well.

If once beyond her boudoir's precincts in ye went,
Your "fortune" was in a fair way " to swell
A man" (as Giles says) (1); for though she would

widow all

Nations, she liked man as an individual.

LXIV.

What a strange thing is man! and what a stranger
Is woman! What a whirlwind is her head,
And what a whirlpool full of depth and danger
Is all the rest about her! Whether wed,
Or widow, maid or mother, she can change her
Mind like the wind: whatever she has said
Or done, is light to what she'll say or do ;-
The oldest thing on record, and yet new!

(1) "His fortune swells him, it is rank, he's married."Overreach; MASSINGER'S "New Way to pay old Debts."

Sir Giles

LXV.

Oh Catherine! (for of all interjections,
To thee both oh! and ah! belong of right
In love and war) how odd are the connections

Of human thoughts, which jostle in their flight! Just now yours were cut out in different sections:

First Ismail's capture caught your fancy quite; Next of new knights, the fresh and glorious batch; And thirdly he who brought you the despatch!

LXVI.

Shakspeare talks of "the herald Mercury
New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;"(1)
And some such visions cross'd her majesty,
While her young herald knelt before her still.
'Tis very true the hill seem'd rather high,
For a lieutenant to climb up; but skill

Smooth'd even the Simplon's steep, and by God's blessing

With youth and health all kisses are "heaven-kissing."

LXVII.

Her majesty look'd down, the youth look'd

up

And so they fell in love;—she with his face, His grace, his God-knows-what: for Cupid's cup With the first draught intoxicates apace,

A quintessential laudanum or "black drop,"

Which makes one drunk at once, without the base Expedient of full bumpers; for the eye

In love drinks all life's fountains (save tears) dry.

(I) [Hamlet, act iii. sc. iv.]

LXVIII.

He, on the other hand, if not in love,

C

Fell into that no less imperious passion, Self-love-which, when some sort of thing above Ourselves, a singer, dancer, much in fashion, Or duchess, princess, empress, "deigns to prove” (1) ('Tis Pope's phrase) a great longing, though a For one especial person out of many, [rash one, Makes us believe ourselves as good as any.

LXIX.

Besides, he was of that delighted age

Which makes all female ages equal—when We don't much care with whom we may engage, As bold as Daniel in the lion's den,

So that we can our native sun assuage

In the next ocean, which may flow just then, To make a twilight in, just as Sol's heat is Quench'd in the lap of the salt sea, or Thetis.

LXX.

And Catherine (we must say thus much for Catherine),
Though bold and bloody, was the kind of thing
Whose temporary passion was quite flattering,
Because each lover look'd a sort of king,
Made up upon an amatory pattern,

A royal husband in all save the ring-
Which, being the damn'dest part of matrimony,
Seem'd taking out the sting to leave the honey.

(1) ["Not Cæsar's empress would I deign to prove :

No! make me mistress to the man I love."- POPE: Eloisa.]