Don Juan 05-081
Canto the Fifth
 
     LXXXI

"You, sir," said Baba, nodding to the one,
     'Will please to accompany those gentlemen
To supper; but you, worthy Christian nun,
     Will follow me: no trifling, sir; for when
I say a thing, it must at once be done.
     What fear you? think you this a lion's den?
Why, 't is a palace; where the truly wise
Anticipate the Prophet's paradise.
 

Don Juan 05-082
Canto the Fifth
 
     LXXXII

"You fool! I tell you no one means you harm."
     "So much the better," Juan said, "for them;
Else they shall feel the weight of this my arm,
     Which is not quite so light as you may deem.
I yield thus far; but soon will break the charm
     If any take me for that which I seem:
So that I trust for everybody's sake,
That this disguise may lead to no mistake."
 

Don Juan 05-083
Canto the Fifth
 
     LXXXIII

"Blockhead! come on, and see," quoth Baba; while
     Don Juan, turning to his comrade, who
Though somewhat grieved, could scarce forbear a smile
     Upon the metamorphosis in view, --
"Farewell!" they mutually exclaim'd: "this soil
     Seems fertile in adventures strange and new;
One's turn'd half Mussulman, and one a maid,
By this old black enchanter's unsought aid."
 

Don Juan 05-084
Canto the Fifth
 
     LXXXIV

"Farewell!" said Juan: 'should we meet no more,
     I wish you a good appetite." -- "Farewell!"
Replied the other; "though it grieves me sore;
     When we next meet we'll have a tale to tell:
We needs must follow when Fate puts from shore.
     Keep your good name; though Eve herself once fell."
"Nay," quoth the maid, "the Sultan's self shan't carry me,
Unless his highness promises to marry me."
 
 
Don Juan 05-085
Canto the Fifth
 
     LXXXV

And thus they parted, each by separate doors;
     Baba led Juan onward room by room
Through glittering galleries and o'er marble floors,
     Till a gigantic portal through the gloom,
Haughty and huge, along the distance lowers;
     And wafted far arose a rich perfume:
It seem'd as though they came upon a shrine,
For all was vast, still, fragrant, and divine.

George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824) 
ByronLong