And now, by dint of fingers and of eyes, And words repeated after her, he took A lesson in her tongue; but by surmise, No doubt, less of her language than her look: As he who studies fervently the skies Turns oftener to the stars than to his book, Thus Juan learned his _alpha beta_ better From Haidée's glance than any graven letter. CLXIV. 'T is pleasing to be schooled in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been;[156] They smile so when one's right, and when one's wrong They smile still more, and then there intervene Pressure of hands, perhaps even a chaste kiss;--[br] I learned the little that I know by this: CLXV. That is, some words of Spanish, Turk, and Greek, Italian not at all, having no teachers;[bs] Much English I cannot pretend to speak, Learning that language chiefly from its preachers, Barrow, South, Tillotson, whom every week I study, also Blair--the highest reachers Of eloquence in piety and prose-- I hate your poets, so read none of those. CLXVI. As for the ladies, I have nought to say, A wanderer from the British world of Fashion,[157] Where I, like other "dogs, have had my day," Like other men, too, may have had my passion-- But that, like other things, has passed away, And all her fools whom I _could_ lay the lash on: Foes, friends, men, women, now are nought to me But dreams of what has been, no more to be.[bt] CLXVII. Return we to Don Juan. He begun[158] To hear new words, and to repeat them; but Some feelings, universal as the Sun, Were such as could not in his breast be shut More than within the bosom of a nun: He was in love,--as you would be, no doubt, With a young benefactress,--so was she, Just in the way we very often see. CLXVIII. And every day by daybreak--rather early For Juan, who was somewhat fond of rest-- She came into the cave, but it was merely To see her bird reposing in his nest;[159] And she would softly stir his locks so curly, Without disturbing her yet slumbering guest, Breathing all gently o'er his cheek and mouth,[bu] As o'er a bed of roses the sweet South. CLXIX. And every morn his colour freshlier came, And every day helped on his convalescence; 'T was well, because health in the human frame Is pleasant, besides being true Love's essence, For health and idleness to Passion's flame Are oil and gunpowder; and some good lessons Are also learnt from Ceres and from Bacchus, Without whom Venus will not long attack us.[160] CLXX.