LIII. Juan, I said, was a most beauteous boy, And had retained his boyish look beyond The usual hirsute seasons which destroy, With beards and whiskers, and the like, the fond _Parisian_ aspect, which upset old Troy And founded Doctors' Commons:[jk]--I have conned The history of divorces, which, though chequered, Calls Ilion's the first damages on record. LIV. And Catherine, who loved all things (save her Lord, Who was gone to his place), and passed for much, Admiring those (by dainty dames abhorred) Gigantic gentlemen, yet had a touch Of sentiment: and he she most adored Was the lamented Lanskoi, who was such A lover as had cost her many a tear, And yet but made a middling grenadier. LV. Oh thou "_teterrima causa_" of all "_belli_"--[513] Thou gate of Life and Death--thou nondescript! Whence is our exit and our entrance,--well I May pause in pondering how all souls are dipped In thy perennial fountain:--how man _fell_ I Know not, since Knowledge saw her branches stripped Of her first fruit; but how he _falls_ and rises Since,--_thou_ hast settled beyond all surmises. LVI. Some call thee "the _worst_ cause of War," but I Maintain thou art the _best_:--for after all, From thee we come, to thee we go, and why To get at thee not batter down a wall, Or waste a World? since no one can deny Thou dost replenish worlds both great and small: With--or without thee--all things at a stand[jl] Are, or would be, thou sea of Life's dry land![jm] LVII. Catherine, who was the grand Epitome Of that great cause of War, or Peace, or what You please (it causes all the things which be, So you may take your choice of this or that)-- Catherine, I say, was very glad to see The handsome herald, on whose plumage sat[514] Victory; and, pausing as she saw him kneel With his despatch, forgot to break the seal. LVIII. Then recollecting the whole Empress, nor Forgetting quite the Woman (which composed At least three parts of this great whole), she tore The letter open with an air which posed The Court, that watched each look her visage wore, Until a royal smile at length disclosed Fair weather for the day. Though rather spacious, Her face was noble, her eyes fine, mouth gracious.[515] LIX. Great joy was hers, or rather joys: the first Was a ta'en city, thirty thousand slain: Glory and triumph o'er her aspect burst, As an East Indian sunrise on the main:-- These quenched a moment her Ambition's thirst-- So Arab deserts drink in Summer's rain: In vain!--As fall the dews on quenchless sands, Blood only serves to wash Ambition's hands!