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She liked the English and the Hebrew tongue, And said there was analogy between 'em; She proved it somehow out of sacred song, But I must leave the proofs to those who 've seen 'em; But this I heard her say, and can't be wrong And all may think which way their judgments lean 'em, ''T is strange—the Hebrew noun which means "I am," The English always use to govern d--n.' Some women use their tongues—she look'd a lecture, Each eye a sermon, and her brow a homily, An all-in-all sufficient self-director, Like the lamented late Sir Samuel Romilly, The Law's expounder, and the State's corrector, Whose suicide was almost an anomaly— One sad example more, that 'All is vanity' (The jury brought their verdict in 'Insanity').
And if your quarrels should rip up old stories, And help them with a lie or two additional, I 'm not to blame, as you well know—no more is Any one else—they were become traditional; Besides, their resurrection aids our glories By contrast, which is what we just were wishing all: And science profits by this resurrection— Dead scandals form good subjects for dissection.It would need to have had a similar geological history to Earth's. My French granny says it is more hygienic to poo in a big hole in the garden, like she did when she was growing up, than it is to go inside. She also said that in olden days, people collected pee and used it to make plants grow better. During the Winter Olympics, TV commentators said it is advantageous for ski jumpers to be light because they will travel further.But being light is seen as a disadvantage for slopestyle snowboarders. And what effect do the snowboarders' baggy clothes have on performance? Brave men were living before Agamemnon And since, exceeding valorous and sage, A good deal like him too, though quite the same none; But then they shone not on the poet's page, And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none, But can't find any in the present age Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one); So, as I said, I 'll take my friend Don Juan.Most epic poets plunge 'in medias res' (Horace makes this the heroic turnpike road), And then your hero tells, whene'er you please, What went before—by way of episode, While seated after dinner at his ease, Beside his mistress in some soft abode, Palace, or garden, paradise, or cavern, Which serves the happy couple for a tavern.That is the usual method, but not mine— My way is to begin with the beginning; The regularity of my design Forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning, And therefore I shall open with a line (Although it cost me half an hour in spinning) Narrating somewhat of Don Juan's father, And also of his mother, if you 'd rather.
In Seville was he born, a pleasant city, Famous for oranges and women—he Who has not seen it will be much to pity, So says the proverb—and I quite agree; Of all the Spanish towns is none more pretty, Cadiz perhaps—but that you soon may see; Don Juan's parents lived beside the river, A noble stream, and call'd the Guadalquivir.
He was a mortal of the careless kind, With no great love for learning, or the learn'd, Who chose to go where'er he had a mind, And never dream'd his lady was concern'd; The world, as usual, wickedly inclined To see a kingdom or a house o'erturn'd, Whisper'd he had a mistress, some said two— But for domestic quarrels one will do.
Now Donna Inez had, with all her merit, A great opinion of her own good qualities; Neglect, indeed, requires a saint to bear it, And such, indeed, she was in her moralities; But then she had a devil of a spirit, And sometimes mix'd up fancies with realities, And let few opportunities escape Of getting her liege lord into a scrape.
ye lords of ladies intellectual, Inform us truly, have they not hen-peck'd you all?
Don Jose and his lady quarrell'd—why, Not any of the many could divine, Though several thousand people chose to try, 'T was surely no concern of theirs nor mine; I loathe that low vice—curiosity; But if there 's anything in which I shine, 'T is in arranging all my friends' affairs, Not having of my own domestic cares.
This was an easy matter with a man Oft in the wrong, and never on his guard; And even the wisest, do the best they can, Have moments, hours, and days, so unprepared, That you might 'brain them with their lady's fan;' And sometimes ladies hit exceeding hard, And fans turn into falchions in fair hands, And why and wherefore no one understands.