XLVI. It was indeed a wide extensive building Which opened on their view, and o'er the front There seemed to be besprent a deal of gilding And various hues, as is the Turkish wont,-- A gaudy taste; for they are little skilled in The arts of which these lands were once the font: Each villa on the Bosphorus looks a screen New painted, or a pretty opera-scene.[283] XLVII. And nearer as they came, a genial savour Of certain stews, and roast-meats, and pilaus, Things which in hungry mortals' eyes find favour, Made Juan in his harsh intentions pause, And put himself upon his good behaviour: His friend, too, adding a new saving clause, Said, "In Heaven's name let's get some supper now, And then I'm with you, if you're for a row." XLVIII. Some talk of an appeal unto some passion, Some to men's feelings, others to their reason; The last of these was never much the fashion, For Reason thinks all reasoning out of season: Some speakers whine, and others lay the lash on, But more or less continue still to tease on, With arguments according to their "forte:" But no one ever dreams of being short.-- XLIX. But I digress: of all appeals,--although I grant the power of pathos, and of gold, Of beauty, flattery, threats, a shilling,--no Method's more sure at moments to take hold[fa] Of the best feelings of mankind, which grow More tender, as we every day behold, Than that all-softening, overpowering knell, The Tocsin of the Soul--the dinner-bell. L. Turkey contains no bells, and yet men dine; And Juan and his friend, albeit they heard No Christian knoll to table, saw no line Of lackeys usher to the feast prepared, Yet smelt roast-meat, beheld a huge fire shine, And cooks in motion with their clean arms bared, And gazed around them to the left and right, With the prophetic eye of appetite. LI. And giving up all notions of resistance, They followed close behind their sable guide, Who little thought that his own cracked existence Was on the point of being set aside: He motioned them to stop at some small distance, And knocking at the gate, 't was opened wide, And a magnificent large hall displayed The Asian pomp of Ottoman parade. LII. I won't describe; description is my "forte," But every fool describes in these bright days His wondrous journey to some foreign court, And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise-- Death to his publisher, to him 't is sport; While Nature, tortured twenty thousand ways, Resigns herself with exemplary patience To guide-books, rhymes, tours, sketches, illustrations.[284] LIII.