His Highness was a man of solemn port, Shawl’d to the nose, and bearded to the eyes, Snatch’d from a prison to preside at court, His lately bowstrung brother caused his rise; He was as good a sovereign of the sort As any mention’d in the histories Of Cantemir, or Knolles, where few shine Save Solyman, the glory of their line. He went to mosque in state, and said his prayers With more than ‘Oriental scrupulosity;’ He left to his vizier all state affairs, And show’d but little royal curiosity: I know not if he had domestic cares— No process proved connubial animosity; Four wives and twice five hundred maids, unseen, Were ruled as calmly as a Christian queen. If now and then there happen’d a slight slip, Little was heard of criminal or crime; The story scarcely pass’d a single lip— The sack and sea had settled all in time, From which the secret nobody could rip: The Public knew no more than does this rhyme; No scandals made the daily press a curse— Morals were better, and the fish no worse. He saw with his own eyes the moon was round, Was also certain that the earth was square, Because he had journey’d fifty miles, and found No sign that it was circular anywhere; His empire also was without a bound: ’Tis true, a little troubled here and there, By rebel pachas, and encroaching giaours, But then they never came to ‘the Seven Towers;’ Except in shape of envoys, who were sent To lodge there when a war broke out, according To the true law of nations, which ne’er meant Those scoundrels, who have never had a sword in Their dirty diplomatic hands, to vent Their spleen in making strife, and safely wording Their lies, yclep’d despatches, without risk or The singeing of a single inky whisker. He had fifty daughters and four dozen sons, Of whom all such as came of age were stow’d, The former in a palace, where like nuns They lived till some Bashaw was sent abroad, When she, whose turn it was, was wed at once, Sometimes at six years old—though it seems odd, ’Tis true; the reason is, that the Bashaw Must make a present to his sire in law. His sons were kept in prison, till they grew Of years to fill a bowstring or the throne, One or the other, but which of the two Could yet be known unto the fates alone; Meantime the education they went through Was princely, as the proofs have always shown: So that the heir apparent still was found No less deserving to be hang’d than crown’d. His majesty saluted his fourth spouse With all the ceremonies of his rank, Who clear’d her sparkling eyes and smooth’d her brows, As suits a matron who has play’d a prank; These must seem doubly mindful of their vows, To save the credit of their breaking bank: To no men are such cordial greetings given As those whose wives have made them fit for heaven.