Catherine was generous,--all such ladies are: Love--that great opener of the heart and all The ways that lead there, be they near or far, Above, below, by turnpikes great or small,-- Love--(though she had a cursed taste for War, And was not the best wife unless we call Such Clytemnestra, though perhaps 't is better That one should die--than two drag on the fetter)-- LXXXI. Love had made Catherine make each lover's fortune, Unlike our own half-chaste Elizabeth, Whose avarice all disbursements did importune, If History, the grand liar, ever saith The truth; and though grief her old age might shorten, Because she put a favourite to death, Her vile, ambiguous method of flirtation, And stinginess, disgrace her sex and station. LXXXII. But when the levée rose, and all was bustle In the dissolving circle, all the nations' Ambassadors began as 't were to hustle Round the young man with their congratulations. Also the softer silks were heard to rustle Of gentle dames, among whose recreations It is to speculate on handsome faces, Especially when such lead to high places. LXXXIII. Juan, who found himself, he knew not how, A general object of attention, made His answers with a very graceful bow, As if born for the ministerial trade. Though modest, on his unembarrassed brow Nature had written "Gentleman!" He said Little, but to the purpose; and his manner Flung hovering graces o'er him like a banner. LXXXIV. An order from her Majesty consigned Our young Lieutenant to the genial care Of those in office: all the world looked kind, (As it will look sometimes with the first stare, Which Youth would not act ill to keep in mind,) As also did Miss Protasoff[523] then there,[js] Named from her mystic office "l'Eprouveuse," A term inexplicable to the Muse. LXXXV. With _her_ then, as in humble duty bound, Juan retired,--and so will I, until My Pegasus shall tire of touching ground. We have just lit on a "heaven-kissing hill," So lofty that I feel my brain turn round, And all my fancies whirling like a mill; Which is a signal to my nerves and brain, To take a quiet ride in some green lane.[524] FOOTNOTES: {373}[476] [Stanzas i.-viii., which are headed "_Don Juan_, Canto III., July 10, 1819," are in the handwriting of (?) the Countess Guiccioli. Stanzas ix., x., which were written on the same sheet of paper, are in Byron's handwriting. The original MS. opens with stanza xi., "Death laughs," etc. (See letter to Moore, July 12, 1822, _Letters_, 1901, vi. 96.)] [477] ["Faut qu' lord Villain-ton ait tout pris; N'y a plus d' argent dans c' gueux de Paris."