But to the main point, where we have been tending:-- She now conceived all difficulties past, And deemed herself extremely condescending When, being made her property at last, Without more preface, in her blue eyes blending Passion and power, a glance on him she cast, And merely saying, "Christian, canst thou love?" Conceived that phrase was quite enough to move. CXVII. And so it was, in proper time and place; But Juan, who had still his mind o'erflowing With Haidée's isle and soft Ionian face, Felt the warm blood, which in his face was glowing Rush back upon his heart, which filled apace, And left his cheeks as pale as snowdrops blowing: These words went through his soul like Arab spears,[306] So that he spoke not, but burst into tears. CXVIII. She was a good deal shocked; not shocked at tears, For women shed and use them at their liking; But there is something when man's eye appears Wet, still more disagreeable and striking: A woman's tear-drop melts, a man's half sears, Like molten lead, as if you thrust a pike in His heart to force it out, for (to be shorter) To them 't is a relief, to us a torture. CXIX. And she would have consoled, but knew not how: Having no equals, nothing which had e'er Infected her with sympathy till now, And never having dreamt what 't was to bear Aught of a serious, sorrowing kind, although There might arise some pouting petty care To cross her brow, she wondered how so near Her eyes another's eye could shed a tear. CXX. But Nature teaches more than power can spoil,[fn] And, when a strong although a strange sensation Moves--female hearts are such a genial soil For kinder feelings, whatso'er their nation, They naturally pour the "wine and oil," Samaritans in every situation; And thus Gulbeyaz, though she knew not why, Felt an odd glistening moisture in her eye. CXXI. But tears must stop like all things else; and soon Juan, who for an instant had been moved To such a sorrow by the intrusive tone Of one who dared to ask if "he _had_ loved," Called back the Stoic to his eyes, which shone Bright with the very weakness he reproved; And although sensitive to beauty, he Felt most indignant still at not being free. CXXII. Gulbeyaz, for the first time in her days, Was much embarrassed, never having met In all her life with aught save prayers and praise; And as she also risked her life to get Him whom she meant to tutor in love's ways Into a comfortable tête-à-tête, To lose the hour would make her quite a martyr, And they had wasted now almost a quarter. CXXIII.