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Might e or go； but Juan could not state
Through which the spectre seem'd to evaporate。
He stood… how long he knew not； but it seem'd
An age… expectant； powerless； with his eyes
Strain'd on the spot where first the figure gleam'd；
Then by degrees recall'd his energies；
And would have pass'd the whole off as a dream；
But could not wake； he was； he did surmise；
Waking already； and return'd at length
Back to his chamber； shorn of half his strength。
All there was as he left it： still his taper
Burnt； and not blue； as modest tapers use；
Receiving sprites with sympathetic vapour；
He rubb'd his eyes； and they did not refuse
Their office； he took up an old newspaper；
The paper was right easy to peruse；
He read an article the king attacking；
And a long eulogy of 'patent blacking。'
This savour'd of this world； but his hand shook…
He shut his door； and after having read
A paragraph； I think about Horne Tooke；
Undrest； and rather slowly went to bed。
There； couch'd all snugly on his pillow's nook；
With what he had seen his phantasy he fed；
And though it was no opiate； slumber crept
Upon him by degrees； and so he slept。
He woke betimes； and； as may be supposed；
Ponder'd upon his visitant or vision；
And whether it ought not to be disclosed；
At risk of being quizz'd for superstition。
The more he thought； the more his mind was posed：
In the mean time； his valet； whose precision
Was great； because his master brook'd no less；
Knock'd to inform him it was time to dress。
He dress'd； and like young people he was wont
To take some trouble with his toilet； but
This morning rather spent less time upon 't；
Aside his very mirror soon was put；
His curls fell negligently o'er his front；
His clothes were not curb'd to their usual cut；
His very neckcloth's Gordian knot was tied
Almost an hair's breadth too much on one side。
And when he walk'd down into the saloon；
He sate him pensive o'er a dish of tea；
Which he perhaps had not discover'd soon；
Had it not happen'd scalding hot to be；
Which made him have recourse unto his spoon；
So much distrait he was； that all could see
That something was the matter… Adeline
The first… but what she could not well divine。
She look'd； and saw him pale； and turn'd as pale
Herself； then hastily look'd down； and mutter'd
Something； but what 's not stated in my tale。
Lord Henry said his muffin was ill butter'd；
The Duchess of Fitz…Fulke play'd with her veil；
And look'd at Juan hard； but nothing utter'd。
Aurora Raby with her large dark eyes
Survey'd him with a kind of calm surprise。
But seeing him all cold and silent still；
And everybody wondering more or less；
Fair Adeline enquired； 'If he were ill？'
He started； and said； 'Yes… no… rather… yes。'
The family physician had great skill；
And being present； now began to express
His readiness to feel his pulse and tell
The cause； but Juan said； 'He was quite well。'
'Quite well； yes；… no。'… These answers were mysterious；
And yet his looks appear'd to sanction both；
However they might savour of delirious；
Something like illness of a sudden growth
Weigh'd on his spirit； though by no means serious：
But for the rest； as he himself seem'd loth
To state the case； it might be ta'en for granted
It was not the physician that he wanted。
Lord Henry； who had now discuss'd his chocolate；
Also the muffin whereof he plain'd；
Said； Juan had not got his usual look elate；
At which he marvell'd； since it had not rain'd；
Then ask'd her Grace what news were of the duke of late？
Her Grace replied； his Grace was rather pain'd
With some slight； light； hereditary twinges
Of gout； which rusts aristocratic hinges。
Then Henry turn'd to Juan； and address'd
A few words of condolence on his state：
'You look；' quoth he； 'as if you had had your rest
Broke in upon by the Black Friar of late。'
'What friar？' said Juan； and he did his best
To put the question with an air sedate；
Or careless； but the effort was not valid
To hinder him from growing still more pallid。
'Oh！ have you never heard of the Black Friar？
The spirit of these walls？'… 'In truth not I。'
'Why Fame… but Fame you know 's sometimes a liar…
Tells an odd story； of which by and by：
Whether with time the spectre has grown shyer；
Or that our sires had a more gifted eye
For such sights； though the tale is half believed；
The friar of late has not been oft perceived。
（Who watch'd the changes of Don Juan's brow；
And from its context thought she could divine
Connexions stronger then he chose to avow
With this same legend）… 'if you but design
To jest； you 'll choose some other theme just now；
Because the present tale has oft been told；
And is not much improved by growing old。'
'Jest！' quoth Milor； 'why； Adeline； you know
That we ourselves… 't was in the honey…moon…
But； e； I 'll set your story to a tune。'
Graceful as Dian； when she draws her bow；
She seized her harp； whose strings were kindled soon
As touch'd； and plaintively began to play
The air of ''T was a Friar of Orders Gray。'
'But add the words；' cried Henry； 'which you made；
For Adeline is half a poetess；'
Turning round to the rest； he smiling said。
Of course the others could not but express
In courtesy their wish to see display'd
By one three talents； for there were no less…
The voice； the words； the harper's skill； at once
Could hardly be united by a dunce。
After some fascinating hesitation；…
The charming of these charmers； who seem bound；
I can't tell why； to this dissimulation；…
Fair Adeline； with eyes fix'd on the ground
At first； then kindling into animation；
Added her sweet voice to the lyric sound；
And sang with much simplicity；… a merit
Not the less precious； that we seldom hear it。
Beware！ beware！ of the Black Friar；
Who sitteth by Norman stone；
For he mutters his prayer in the midnight air；
And his mass of the days that are gone。
When the Lord of the Hill； Amundeville；
Made Norman Church his prey；
And expell'd the friars； one friar still
Would not be driven away。
Though he came in his might； with King Henry's right；
To turn church lands to lay；
With sword in hand； and torch to light
Their walls； if they said nay；
A monk remain'd； unchased； unchain'd；
And he did not seem form'd of clay；
For he 's seen in the porch； and he 's seen in the church；
Though he is not seen by day。
And whether for good； or whether for ill；
It is not mine to say；
But still with the house of Amundeville
He abideth night and day。
By the marriage…bed of their lords； 't is said；
He flits on the bridal eve；
And 't is held as faith； to their bed of death
He es… but not to grieve。
When an heir is born； he 's heard to mourn；
And when aught is to befall
That ancient line； in the 〃we moonshine
He walks from hall to hall。
His form you may trace； but not his face；
'T is shadow'd by his cowl；
But his eyes may be seen from the folds between；
And they seem of a parted soul。
But beware！ beware！ of the Black Friar；
He still retains his sway；
For he is yet the church's heir
Whoever may be the lay。
Amundeville is lord by day；
But the monk is lord by night；
Nor wine nor wassail could raise a vassal
To question that friar's right。
Say nought t