Julia said nought; though all the while there rose A ready answer, which at once enables A matron, who her husband's foible knows, By a few timely words to turn the tables, Which, if it does not silence, still must pose,-- Even if it should comprise a pack of fables; 'T is to retort with firmness, and when he Suspects with _one_, do you reproach with _three_. CLXXVI. Julia, in fact, had tolerable grounds,-- Alfonso's loves with Inez were well known; But whether 't was that one's own guilt confounds-- But that can't be, as has been often shown, A lady with apologies abounds;-- It might be that her silence sprang alone From delicacy to Don Juan's ear, To whom she knew his mother's fame was dear. CLXXVII. There might be one more motive, which makes two; Alfonso ne'er to Juan had alluded,-- Mentioned his jealousy, but never who Had been the happy lover, he concluded, Concealed amongst his premises; 't is true, His mind the more o'er this its mystery brooded; To speak of Inez now were, one may say, Like throwing Juan in Alfonso's way. CLXXVIII. A hint, in tender cases, is enough; Silence is best: besides, there is a _tact_[80]-- (That modern phrase appears to me sad stuff, But it will serve to keep my verse compact)-- Which keeps, when pushed by questions rather rough, A lady always distant from the fact: The charming creatures lie with such a grace, There's nothing so becoming to the face. CLXXIX. They blush, and we believe them; at least I Have always done so; 't is of no great use, In any case, attempting a reply, For then their eloquence grows quite profuse; And when at length they're out of breath, they sigh, And cast their languid eyes down, and let loose A tear or two, and then we make it up; And then--and then--and then--sit down and sup. CLXXX. Alfonso closed his speech, and begged her pardon, Which Julia half withheld, and then half granted, And laid conditions he thought very hard on, Denying several little things he wanted: He stood like Adam lingering near his garden, With useless penitence perplexed and haunted;[ai] Beseeching she no further would refuse, When, lo! he stumbled o'er a pair of shoes. CLXXXI. A pair of shoes![81]--what then? not much, if they Are such as fit with ladies' feet, but these (No one can tell how much I grieve to say) Were masculine; to see them, and to seize, Was but a moment's act.--Ah! well-a-day! My teeth begin to chatter, my veins freeze! Alfonso first examined well their fashion, And then flew out into another passion. CLXXXII.