LIII.

Along this hall, and up and down, some, squatted Upon their hams, were occupied at chess; Others in monosyllable talk chatted,

And some seem'd much in love with their own dress, And divers smoked superb pipes decorated

With amber mouths of greater price or less; And several strutted, others slept, and some Prepared for supper with a glass of rum. (1)

LIV.

As the black eunuch enter'd with his brace
Of purchased Infidels, some raised their eyes
A moment without slackening from their pace;
But those who sate, ne'er stirr'd in any wise: (2)
One or two stared the captives in the face,

Just as one views a horse to guess his price;
Some nodded to the negro from their station,
But no one troubled him with conversation. (3)

"Effusions in Rhyme," &c. - (3)" Lady Morgan's Tour in Italy," "Tour through Istria," &c. &c. -(4) "Sketches of Italy," "Sketches of Modern Greece," &c. &c. (5) A playful allusion to Mr. Hobhouse's "Illustrations of Childe Harold."]

(1) In Turkey nothing is more common than for the Mussulmans to take several glasses of strong spirits by way of appetizer. I have seen them take as many as six of raki before dinner, and swear that they dined the better for it: I tried the experiment, but fared like the Scotchman, who having heard that the birds called kittiwakes were admirable whets, ate six of them, and complained that "he was no hungrier than when he began."]

(2) [MS

"The sitters never stirr'd in any wise."]

(3) ["Every thing is so still in the court of the seraglio, that the motion of a fly might, in a manner, be heard; and if any one should presume to raise his voice ever so little, or show the least want of respect to the mansion-place of their emperor, he would instantly have the bastinado by the officers that go the rounds."-TOURNEFORT.]

LV.

He leads them through the hall, and, without stopping, On through a farther range of goodly rooms, Splendid but silent, save in one, where, dropping, (1)

A marble fountain echoes through the glooms Of night, which robe the chamber, or where popping Some female head most curiously presumes To thrust its black eyes through the door or lattice, As wondering what the devil noise that is.

LVI.

Some faint lamps gleaming from the lofty walls
Gave light enough to hint their farther way,
But not enough to show the imperial halls
In all the flashing of their full array ;
Perhaps there's nothing-I'll not say appals,
But saddens more by night as well as day,
Than an enormous room without a soul
To break the lifeless splendour of the whole.

LVII.

Two or three seem so little, one seems nothing:
In deserts, forests, crowds, or by the shore,
There solitude, we know, has her full growth in

The spots which were her realms for evermore;

(1) A common furniture. I recollect being received by Ali Pacha, in a large room, paved with marble, containing a marble basin, and fountain playing in the centre, &c. &c. [See antè, Vol. VIII. p. 92. —

"In marble-paved pavilion, where a spring

Of living water from the centre rose,
Whose bubbling did a genial freshness fling,
And soft voluptuous couches breathed repose,
ALI reclined, a man of war and woes," &c.]

But in a mighty hall or gallery, both in

More modern buildings and those built of yore, A kind of death comes o'er us all alone, Seeing what's meant for many with but one.

LVIII.

A neat, snug study on a winter's night, (1)
A book, friend, single lady, or a glass
Of claret, sandwich, and an appetite,

Are things which make an English evening pass;
Though certes by no means so grand a sight
As is a theatre lit up by gas.

I pass my evenings in long galleries solely,
And that's the reason I'm so melancholy.

LIX.

Alas! man makes that great which makes him little: I grant you in a church 't is very well:

What speaks of Heaven should by no means be brittle, But strong and lasting, till no tongue can tell Their names who rear'd it; but huge houses fit ill

And huge tombs worse-mankind, since Adam fell: Methinks the story of the tower of Babel Might teach them this much better than I'm able.

LX.

Babel was Nimrod's hunting-box, and then

A town of gardens, walls, and wealth amazing, Where Nabuchadonosor, king of men,

Reign'd, till one summer's day he took to grazing,

(1) [MS." A small, snug chamber on a winter's night,

VOL. XVI.

Well furnish'd with a book, friend, girl, or glass," &c.]

G

And Daniel tamed the lions in their den,

The people's awe and admiration raising;

'Twas famous, too, for Thisbe and for Pyramus, (1) And the calumniated queen Semiramis.—(2)

LXI.

That injured Queen, by Chroniclers so coarse
Has been accused (I doubt not by conspiracy)
Of an improper friendship for her horse

(Love, like religion, sometimes runs to heresy): This monstrous tale had probably its source

(For such exaggerations here and there I see) In writing "Courser" by mistake for "Courier:" I wish the case could come before a jury here. (3)

LXII.

But to resume, should there be (what may not
Be in these days?) some infidels, who don't,
Because they can't find out the very spot (4)
Of that same Babel, or because they won't

(1) [See Ovid's Metamorphoses, lib. iv.

"In Babylon, where first her queen, for state,
Raised walls of brick magnificently great,

Lived Pyramus and Thisbe, lovely pair!

He found no Eastern youth his equal there,

And she beyond the fairest nymph was fair."— - GARTH.]

(2) Babylon was enlarged by Nimrod, strengthened and beautified by Nabuchadonosor, and rebuilt by Semiramis.

(3) [At the time when Lord Byron was writing this Canto, the unfortunate affair of Queen Caroline, charged, among other offences, with admitting her chamberlain, Bergami, originally a courier, to her bed, was occupying much attention in Italy, as in England. The allusions to the domestic troubles of George IV. in the text, are frequent. — E.]

(4) [Excepting the ruins of some large and lofty turrets, like that of Babel or Belus, the cities of Babylon and Nineveh are so completely

(Though Claudius Rich, Esquire, some bricks has got,
And written lately two memoirs upon 't,) (1)
Believe the Jews, those unbelievers, who
Must be believed, though they believe not you.

LXIII.

Yet let them think that Horace has exprest
Shortly and sweetly the masonic folly
Of those, forgetting the great place of rest,
Who give themselves to architecture wholly;
We know where things and men must end at best:
A moral (like all morals) melancholy,
And "Et sepulchri immemor struis domos" (2)
Shows that we build when we should but entomb us.

crumbled into dust, as to be wholly undistinguishable but by a few inequalities of the surface on which they once stood. The humble tent of the Arab now occupies the spot formerly adorned with the palaces of kings, and his flocks procure but a scanty pittance of food, amidst the fallen fragments of ancient magnificence. The banks of the Euphrates and Tigris, once so prolific, are now, for the most part, covered with impenetrable brushwood; and the interior of the province, which was traversed and fertilised with innumerable canals, is destitute of either inhabitants or vegetation. MORIER.]

(1) ["Two Memoirs on the Ruins of Babylon, by Claudius James Rich, Esq., Resident for the East India Company at the Court of the Pasha of Bagdat."]

(2)

["Tu secanda marmora

Locas sub ipsum funus, et sepulchri

Immemor struis domos."

- HOR.

"Day presses on the heels of day,

And moons increase to their decay;
But you, with thoughtless pride elate,
Unconscious of impending fate,

Command the pillar'd dome to rise,

When, lo! the tomb forgotten lies."- FRANCIS.]