CIV. He stood like Atlas, with a world of words Boil'd in his veins, and rather than descend A thousand times of him had made an end; At length perceiving the "foot" could not stand, Baba proposed that he should kiss the hand. CV. Here was an honourable compromise, To use all fit and proper courtesies, Adding, that this was commonest and best, For through the South, the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands. CVI. And he advanced, though with but a bad grace, Though on more thorough-bred (1) or fairer fingers No lips e'er left their transitory trace: On such as these the lip too fondly lingers, And for one kiss would fain imprint a brace, As you will see, if she you love shall bring hers In contact; and sometimes even a fair stranger's An almost twelvemonth's constancy endangers. (1) There is nothing, perhaps, more distinctive of birth than the hand. It is almost the only sign of blood which aristocracy can generate. [See antè, p. 23.] CVII. The lady eyed him o'er and o'er, and bade And looking on him with a sort of smile, CVIII. When he was gone, there was a sudden change : I know not what might be the lady's thought, But o'er her bright brow flash'd a tumult strange, And into her clear cheek the blood was brought, Blood-red as sunset summer clouds which range The verge of Heaven; and in her large eyes wrought A mixture of sensations, might be scann'd, Of half-voluptuousness and half command. CIX. Her form had all the softness of her sex, Eve, and paved (God knows how) the road to evil; The sun himself was scarce more free from specks Than she from aught at which the eye could cavil; Yet, somehow, there was something somewhere wanting, As if she rather order'd than was granting. CX. Something imperial, or imperious, threw A chain o'er all she did; that is, a chain CXI. Her very smile was haughty, though so sweet; There was a self-will even in her small feet, As though they were quite conscious of her station They trod as upon necks; and to complete Her state (it is the custom of her nation), A poniard deck'd her girdle, as the sign She was a sultan's bride, (thank Heaven, not mine!) CXII. "To hear and to obey” had been from birth Had been her slaves' chief pleasure, as her will; CXIII. Whate'er she saw and coveted was brought; There was no end unto the things she bought, Nor to the trouble which her fancies caused; CXIV. Juan, the latest of her whims, had caught And Baba, who had ne'er been known to fail At all such auctions knew how to prevail : She had no prudence, but he had; and this Explains the garb which Juan took amiss. CXV. His youth and features favour'd the disguise, (1) [MS. .“ And husbands now and then are mystified."] CXVI. But to the main point, where we have been tending: CXVII. And so it was, in proper time and place; Felt the warm blood, which in his face was glowing, Rush back upon his heart, which fill'd apace, And left his cheeks as pale as snowdrops blowing: These words went through his soul like Arab-spears, So that he spoke not, but burst into tears. CXVIII. She was a good deal shock'd; not shock'd at tears, |