And they the room were on the point of quitting, When lo! those cursed gondoliers had got Just in the very place where they should not. LXXXVI. In this they're like our coachmen, and the cause LXXXVII. The Count and Laura found their boat at last, The dancers and their dresses, too, beside; (As to their palace stairs the rowers glide) Sate Laura by the side of her Adorer, When lo! the Mussulman was there before her. LXXXVIII. "Sir," said the Count, with brow exceeding grave, "Your unexpected presence here will make It necessary for myself to crave Its import? But perhaps 'tis a mistake; I hope it is so; and at once to waive All compliment, I hope so for your sake: You understand my meaning, or you shall." "Sir," (quoth the Turk) "'tis no mistake at all: LXXXIX. "That lady is my wife!" Much wonder paints They only call a little on their saints, And then come to themselves, almost or quite; Which saves much hartshorn, salts, and sprinkling faces, And cutting stays, as usual in such cases. XC. She said what could she say? Why, not a word: The stranger, much appeased by what he heard: XCI. They enter'd, and for coffee call'd-it came, To speak, cries "Beppo! what's your pagan name? XCII. "And are you really, truly, now a Turk? XCIII. "Beppo, that beard of yours becomes you not; It shall be shaved before you're a day older: Why do you wear it? Oh! I had forgot Pray don't you think the weather here is colder? How do I look? You shan't stir from this spot In that queer dress, for fear that some beholder Should find you out, and make the story known. How short your hair is! Lord! how grey it's grown!" XCIV. What answer Beppo made to these demands Had bread and bastinadoes, till some bands XCV. But he grew rich, and with his riches grew so And so he hired a vessel come from Spain, Mann'd with twelve hands, and laden with tobacco. XCVI. Himself, aud much (Heaven knows how gotten !) cash, He then embark'd, with risk of life and limb, And got clear off, although the attempt was rash; In our opinions:-well, the ship was trim, XCVII. They reach'd the island, he transferr'd his lading, Or else the people would perhaps have shot him; And thus at Venice landed to reclaim His wife, religion, house and Christian name. XCVIII. His wife received, the patriarch re-baptized him XCIX. Whate'er his youth had suffer'd, his old age With wealth and talking make him some amends; Though Laura sometimes put him in a rage, I've heard the Count and he were always friends. My pen is at the bottom of a page, Which being finish'd, here the story ends; "Tis to be wish'd it had been sooner done, But stories somehow lengthen when begun. MAZEPPA. ADVERTISEMENT. "CELUI qui remplissait alors cette place était un gentilhomme Polonais, nommé Mazeppa, né dans le palatinat de Podolie: il avait été élevé page de Jean Casimir, et avait pris à sa cour quelque teinture des belles-lettres. Une intrigue qu'il eut dans sa jeunesse avec la femme d'un gentilhomme Polonais ayant été découverte, le mari le fit lier tout nu sur un cheval farouche, et le laissa aller en cet état. Le cheval, qui était du pays de l'Ukraine, y retourna, et y porta Mazeppa, demi-mort de fatigue et de faim. Quelques paysans le secoururent: il resta long-tems parmi eux, et se signala dans plusieurs courses contre les Tartares. La supériorité de ses lumières lui donna une grande considération parmi les Cosaques : sa réputation s'augmentant de jour en jour obligea le Czar à le faire Prince de l'Ukraine."-VOLTAIRE, Hist. de Charles XII. p. 196. "Le roi fuyant, et poursuivi, eut son cheval tué sous lui; le Colonel Gieta, blessé, et perdant tout son sang, lui donna le sien. Ainsi on remit deux fois à cheval, dans sa fuite, ce conquérant qui n'avait pu y monter pendant la bataille."-Ib., p. 216. "Le roi alla par un autre chemin avec quelques cavaliers. Le carrosse où il était rompit dans la marche; on le remit à cheval. Pour comble de disgrace, il s'égara pendant la nuit dans un bois; là, son courage ne pouvant plus suppléer à ses forces épuisées, les douleurs de sa blessure devenues plus insupportables par la fatigue, son cheval étant tombé de lassitude, il se coucha quelques heures au pied d'un arbre, en danger d'être surpris à tout moment par les vainqueurs, qui le cherchaient de tous côtés."-Ib., p. 218. I. "TWAS after dread Pultowa's day, No more to combat and to bleed. And Moscow's walls were safe again, A shock to one-a thunderbolt to all. II. Such was the hazard of the die; When truth had nought to dread from power, A king must lay his limbs at length. For which the nations strain their strength? In outworn nature's agony; His wounds were stiff-his limbs were stark- A transient slumber's fitful aid: And thus it was; but yet through all, III. A band of chiefs!-alas! how few, Each sat him down, all sad and mute, And smooth'd his fetlocks and his mane, His wearied courser might refuse To browse beneath the midnight dews: |