LXXV. One hates an author that 's all author, fellows One do n't know what to say to them, or think, Unless to puff them with a pair of bellows; Of coxcombry's worst coxcombs e'en the pink Are preferable to these shreds of paper, These unquench'd snuffings of the midnight taper. LXXVI. Of these same we see several, and of others, LXXVII. The poor dear Mussulwomen whom I mention Have none of these instructive pleasant people, And one would seem to them a new invention, Unknown as bells within a Turkish steeple ; I think 't would almost be worth while to pension (Though best-sown projects very often reap ill) A missionary author, just to preach Our Christian usage of the parts of speech. LXXVIII. No chemistry for them unfolds her gasses, Religious novels, moral tales, and strictures No exhibition glares with annual pictures; They stare not on the stars from out their attics, Nor deal (thank God for that!) in mathematics. LXXIX. Why I thank God for that is no great matter, I fear I have a little turn for satire, And yet methinks the older that one grows Inclines us more to laugh than scold, though laughter Leaves us so doubly serious shortly after. LXXX. Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water! His thirst with such pure beverage. No matter, LXXXI. Our Laura's Turk still kept his eyes upon her, LXXXII. The morning now was on the point of breaking, In any To make their preparations for forsaking The ball-room ere the sun begins to rise, Because when once the lamps and candles fail, His blushes make them look a little pale. LXXXIII. I've seen some balls and revels in my time, To see what lady best stood out the season; LXXXIV. The name of this Aurora I 'll not mention, At the next London or Parisian ball You still may mark her cheek, out-blooming all. LXXXV. Laura, who knew it would not do at all To meet the daylight after seven hours' sitting Among three thousand people at a ball, To make her curtsy thought it right and fitting; And they the room were on the point of quitting, LXXXVI. In this they 're like our coachmen, and the cause At home, our Bow-street gemmen keep the laws, LXXXVII. The Count and Laura found their boat at last, (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 't is a mistake; "I hope it is so; and at once to wave "All compliment, I hope so for your sake; "You understand my meaning, or you shall." Sir," (quoth the Turk,) " 't is no mistake at all. LXXXIX. "That lady is my wife!" Much wonder paints 'The lady's changing cheek, as well it might ; But where an Englishwoman sometimes faints, Italian females do n't do so outright; 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. She said, XC. what could she say? Why, not a word : But the Count courteously invited in The stranger, much appeased by what he heard: For then the chief and only satisfaction XCI. They enter'd, and for coffee call'd - it came, A beverage for Turks and Christians both, Although the way they make it 's not the same. Now Laura, much recover'd, or less loth To speak, cries" Beppo! what's your pagan name? Bless me! your beard is of amazing growth! And how came you to keep away so long? Are not sensible 't was very wrong? you XCII. "And are you really, truly, now a Turk? Well, that's the prettiest shawl- as I'm alive! To-Bless me! did I ever? No, I never 66 Beppo! that beard of XCIII. yours becomes you not; It shall be shaved before you 're a day older : Why do you wear it? Oh! I had forgot Pray do n't you think the weather here is colder? How do I look? You sha'n'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 gray it's grown!" XCIV. What answer Beppo made to these demands Is more than I know. He was cast away XCV. But he grew rich, and with his riches grew so And so he hired a vessel come from Spain, XCVI. Himself, and much (heaven knows how gotten!) cash, For my part, I say nothing, lest we clash In our opinions : well, the ship was trim, Set sail, and kept her reckoning fairly on, Except three days of calm when off Cape Bonn. XCVII. They reach'd the island, he transferr'd his lading, |