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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Don Juan, by Lord Byron This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. WORDSWORTH POETRY LIBRARY. Selected Poems of. Lord Byron. Including Don Juan and Other Poems. With an Introduction, Bibliography and Glossary. Download Don Juan (inglés) free in PDF & EPUB format. Download Lord Byron's Don Juan (inglés) for your kindle, tablet, IPAD, PC or mobile.


Don Juan Lord Byron Pdf

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Jeanne-Françoise Julie Adélaïde Récamier painted by François (Baron) Gérard. Sam. Johnson famously observed that only a blockhead. Fair-copied by Byron, September 16th-November 1st Don Juan is aristocratic; he was born in Seville; and that is all. . not strictly according to Aristotle, I don't know what an epic poem means” (Conversations of Lord. It seems the triumph of Don Juan that we can feel for the emotional protagonist both comment, and Byron marks the moment with exhuberance: My Good Sir!.

Not all the clamour broke her happy state Of slumber, ere they shook her, -- so they say At least, -- and then she, too, unclosed her eyes, And yawn'd a good deal with discreet surprise. LXXIV And now commenced a strict investigation, Which, as all spoke at once and more than once, Conjecturing, wondering, asking a narration, Alike might puzzle either wit or dunce To answer in a very clear oration.

I've known some odd ones which seem'd really plann'd Prophetically, or that which one deems A "strange coincidence," to use a phrase By which such things are settled now-a-days. LXXIX The damsels, who had thoughts of some great harm, Began, as is the consequence of fear, To scold a little at the false alarm That broke for nothing on their sleeping ear.

LXXX "I've heard of stories of a cock and bull; But visions of an apple and a bee, To take us from our natural rest, and pull The whole Oda from their beds at half-past three, Would make us think the moon is at its full.

You surely are unwell, child! LXXXIII She promised never more to have a dream, At least to dream so loudly as just now; She wonder'd at herself how she could scream -- 'T was foolish, nervous, as she must allow, A fond hallucination, and a theme For laughter -- but she felt her spirits low, And begg'd they would excuse her; she'd get over This weakness in a few hours, and recover.

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I can't tell why she blush'd, nor can expound The mystery of this rupture of their rest; All that I know is, that the facts I state Are true as truth has ever been of late. LXXXVI And so good night to them, -- or, if you will, Good morrow -- for the cock had crown, and light Began to clothe each Asiatic hill, And the mosque crescent struggled into sight Of the long caravan, which in the chill Of dewy dawn wound slowly round each height That stretches to the stony belt, which girds Asia, where Kaff looks down upon the Kurds.

The nightingale that sings with the deep thorn, Which fable places in her breast of wail, Is lighter far of heart and voice than those Whose headlong passions form their proper woes. LXXXVIII And that's the moral of this composition, If people would but see its real drift; -- But that they will not do without suspicion, Because all gentle readers have the gift Of closing 'gainst the light their orbs of vision; While gentle writers also love to lift Their voices 'gainst each other, which is natural, The numbers are too great for them to flatter all.

LXXXIX Rose the sultana from a bed of splendour, Softer than the soft Sybarite's, who cried Aloud because his feelings were too tender To brook a ruffled rose-leaf by his side, -- So beautiful that art could little mend her, Though pale with conflicts between love and pride; -- So agitated was she with her error, She did not even look into the mirror. XC Also arose about the self-same time, Perhaps a little later, her great lord, Master of thirty kingdoms so sublime, And of a wife by whom he was abhorr'd; A thing of much less import in that clime -- At least to those of incomes which afford The filling up their whole connubial cargo -- Than where two wives are under an embargo.

XCI He did not think much on the matter, nor Indeed on any other: as a man He liked to have a handsome paramour At hand, as one may like to have a fan, And therefore of Circassians had good store, As an amusement after the Divan; Though an unusual fit of love, or duty, Had made him lately bask in his bride's beauty.

XCII And now he rose; and after due ablutions Exacted by the customs of the East, And prayers and other pious evolutions, He drank six cups of coffee at the least, And then withdrew to hear about the Russians, Whose victories had recently increased In Catherine's reign, whom glory still adores, As greatest of all sovereigns and w--s.

Her son's son, let not this last phrase offend Thine ear, if it should reach -- and now rhymes wander Almost as far as Petersburgh and lend A dreadful impulse to each loud meander Of murmuring Liberty's wide waves, which blend Their roar even with the Baltic's -- so you be Your father's son, 't is quite enough for me.

XCIV To call men love-begotten or proclaim Their mothers as the antipodes of Timon, That hater of mankind, would be a shame, A libel, or whate'er you please to rhyme on: But people's ancestors are history's game; And if one lady's slip could leave a crime on All generations, I should like to know What pedigree the best would have to show?

XCV Had Catherine and the sultan understood Their own true interests, which kings rarely know Until 't is taught by lessons rather rude, There was a way to end their strife, although Perhaps precarious, had they but thought good, Without the aid of prince or plenipo: She to dismiss her guards and he his haram, And for their other matters, meet and share 'em.

XCVI But as it was, his Highness had to hold His daily council upon ways and means How to encounter with this martial scold, This modern site and queen of queans; And the perplexity could not be told Of all the pillars of the state, which leans Sometimes a little heavy on the backs Of those who cannot lay on a new tax.

XCVII Meantime Gulbeyaz, when her king was gone, Retired into her boudoir, a sweet place For love or breakfast; private, pleasing, lone, And rich with all contrivances which grace Those gay recesses: -- many a precious stone Sparkled along its roof, and many a vase Of porcelain held in the fetter'd flowers, Those captive soothers of a captive's hours.

XCVIII Mother of pearl, and porphyry, and marble, Vied with each other on this costly spot; And singing birds without were heard to warble; And the stain'd glass which lighted this fair grot Varied each ray; -- but all descriptions garble The true effect, and so we had better not Be too minute; an outline is the best, -- A lively reader's fancy does the rest. XCIX And here she summon'd Baba, and required Don Juan at his hands, and information Of what had pass'd since all the slaves retired, And whether he had occupied their station; If matters had been managed as desired, And his disguise with due consideration Kept up; and above all, the where and how He had pass'd the night, was what she wish'd to know.

C Baba, with some embarrassment, replied To this long catechism of questions, ask'd More easily than answer'd, -- that he had tried His best to obey in what he had been task'd; But there seem'd something that he wish'd to hide, Which hesitation more betray'd than mask'd; He scratch'd his ear, the infallible resource To which embarrass'd people have recourse. CI Gulbeyaz was no model of true patience, Nor much disposed to wait in word or deed; She liked quick answers in all conversations; And when she saw him stumbling like a steed In his replies, she puzzled him for fresh ones; And as his speech grew still more broken-kneed, Her cheek began to flush, her eyes to sparkle, And her proud brow's blue veins to swell and darkle.

CIII The chief dame of the Oda, upon whom The discipline of the whole haram bore, As soon as they re-enter'd their own room, For Baba's function stopt short at the door, Had settled all; nor could he then presume The aforesaid Baba just then to do more, Without exciting such suspicion as Might make the matter still worse than it was.

Don Juan by Baron George Gordon Byron Byron

CIV He hoped, indeed he thought, he could be sure Juan had not betray'd himself; in fact 'T was certain that his conduct had been pure, Because a foolish or imprudent act Would not alone have made him insecure, But ended in his being found out and sacked, And thrown into the sea. CV This he discreetly kept in the background, And talk'd away -- and might have talk'd till now, For any further answer that he found, So deep an anguish wrung Gulbeyaz' brow: Her cheek turn'd ashes, ears rung, brain whirl'd round, As if she had received a sudden blow, And the heart's dew of pain sprang fast and chilly O'er her fair front, like Morning's on a lily.

CVI Although she was not of the fainting sort, Baba thought she would faint, but there he err'd -- It was but a convulsion, which though short Can never be described; we all have heard, And some of us have felt thus "all amort," When things beyond the common have occurr'd; -- Gulbeyaz proved in that brief agony What she could ne'er express -- then how should I?

CVII She stood a moment as a Pythones Stands on her tripod, agonised, and full Of inspiration gather'd from distress, When all the heart-strings like wild horses pull The heart asunder; -- then, as more or less Their speed abated or their strength grew dull, She sunk down on her seat by slow degrees, And bow'd her throbbing head o'er trembling knees.

CVIII Her face declined and was unseen; her hair Fell in long tresses like the weeping willow, Sweeping the marble underneath her chair, Or rather sofa for it was all pillow, A low soft ottoman , and black despair Stirr'd up and down her bosom like a billow, Which rushes to some shore whose shingles check Its farther course, but must receive its wreck.

CIX Her head hung down, and her long hair in stooping Conceal'd her features better than a veil; And one hand o'er the ottoman lay drooping, White, waxen, and as alabaster pale: Would that I were a painter! CX Baba, who knew by experience when to talk And when to hold his tongue, now held it till This passion might blow o'er, nor dared to balk Gulbeyaz' taciturn or speaking will. At length she rose up, and began to walk Slowly along the room, but silent still, And her brow clear'd, but not her troubled eye; The wind was down, but still the sea ran high.

CXI She stopp'd, and raised her head to speak -- but paused, And then moved on again with rapid pace; Then slacken'd it, which is the march most caused By deep emotion: -- you may sometimes trace A feeling in each footstep, as disclosed By Sallust in his Catiline, who, chased By all the demons of all passions, show'd Their work even by the way in which he trode. Childe Harold has general roots in the eighteenth-century loco-descriptive or topographical poem, but Byron remakes this 8 into a poem of Romantic utterance.

Those attacks also led Byron in the direction of satire, which he would deploy repeatedly in attacking hypocrisy, greed, cruelty, and the bad writing of others.

A lifelong admirer of Alexander Pope and a firm if rather uneasy proponent of classical literary models such as Horace and Juvenal, Byron begins his career writing witty verse satire in heroic couplets.

Byron used the poem to carve a space for himself and to rebut the accusations of juvenile weakness that his early lyrics had drawn. During his first tour abroad that produced Childe Harold, he also composed two satiric poems, Hints from Horace and The Curse of Minerva both written , both with explicit reference to the classical world.

Hints from Horace is essentially a modern rewriting of the Ars Poetica, offering literary advice in keeping with the conservative principles of taste articulated in English Bards.

Later examples -- The Vision of Judgment and The Age of 10 Bronze both published in — provide lively criticism of English political culture and the monarchism of post-Napoleonic Europe.

The Age of Bronze mocks the Holy Alliance, the anti-revolutionary coalition of nations which had recently authorized support for the Spanish royalists. The Vision of Judgment, written in the ottava rima stanza that Byron wielded with such finesse, presents King George III at the pearly gates, claimed by Lucifer but sneaking into heaven while Robert Southey gives a room-clearing performance of his own recent poem also called A Vision of Judgment.

Satire was a mode that Byron found congenial throughout his life, culminating the genre-bending, ironic Don Juan. At the same time, Byron was working in another long form that he manipulated to serve both narrative and lyric ends: the verse tale. Like his dramas dealt with separately in another entry , the Eastern or Oriental tales combine character usually a central Byronic hero and action with extensive soliloquy and lyric description.

Other verse tales include The Siege of Corinth , Parisina , Mazeppa , and The Island ; it was a form that Byron continued to work in throughout his career.

The first of the tales, The Giaour, is the most interesting in terms of genre; it presents itself as a series of fragments written from various perspectives, offering an incomplete and conflicting mosaic of the narrative. Written in couplets like the other tales, The Giaour is more discontinuous and experimental. Proceeding by way of 11 narrative fragments from various perspectives, the poem tells the story of a Venetian nobleman and lover of Leila, a slave in the harem of Hassan, a Turkish sultan.

The tale is set in Athens, at that time under Turkish rule as part of the Ottoman empire. Indeed, Byron meditates at length in the poem about the fate of Greece and Greek heroism in the fallen, modern era, using his narrative as a semi-allegorical window onto the struggle between east and west. The evolution of the poem likely reflects its hybrid nature: Byron kept adding to it, so that it almost doubled in length from the first edition to the seventh.

For example, Byron wrote Beppo: A Venetian Story in , deploying ottava rima to comic effect and thus marking a distinct shift in method.

When Beppo returns from his journeys to find his wife Laura with another man, the result is merely a conversation over coffee, and a placid arrangement in which all three remain friends.

The storm and stress of the Byronic hero have given way to a satiro-comic attitude of light mockery and ultimate indulgence of human foibles and desires. The narrative is incomplete, gossipy, and demotic, and also frequently interrupted by associative commentary, as Byron plays within the ottava rima stanzas and especially in the closing couplets.

Beppo is essentially a transformation of the verse tale by way of ottava rima, whereas Don Juan addresses itself to a more august genre: the epic poem. Thus Byron transforms his epic inheritance in at least two ways: by exposing traditional ideas of epic heroism and high seriousness to ironic satire, and by upstaging his chosen protagonist with his 13 own narrative voice, attitudes, and experiences.

In addition, by presenting an essentially cosmopolitan hero of episodic loyalties via an often-facetious and restless narrator, Byron dissociates Don Juan from the traditional ideological functions of the national epic, wherein the values and spirit of a culture are to be displayed for veneration.

As a result, Don Juan is typically called an ironic epic, or satiric epic, or even mock-epic poem, its complex modalities reflected in these hybrid terms. Yet their sexual relationship is presented as the product of self- deception and natural desire on both sides, an occasion for gentle satire on human illusions.

From there, he joins the Russian forces attacking a Turkish fortress and fights heroically, though the poem presents him as generally swept up in the 14 chaos of war.

Don Juan (inglés)

However, he does rescue a young Turkish girl from the slaughter, his one act of selfless courage in the poem. Cantos IX-X see Juan at the court of Catherine the Great of Russia, where he becomes a sexual favorite of the queen, and the later episodes have him in London as a diplomat and at an English country estate among aristocrats, where flirtation, match-making, and casual adultery are the main events.

Yet in choosing Don Juan as his hero, Byron signals the central importance of love to his sprawling epic. Throughout Don Juan, the narrator has much to say on the range of human thoughts and actions that go under that broad heading: first love, illicit affairs, parental love, conjugal relations, cold-hearted sex, and many others. The poem is written in ottava rima. Don Juan is a womanizer that he even seduces a girl and kills her father.

Byron chose to write Don Juan to against the moral society in his age. Byron began to write it in July and the poem had never been finished until he died in His story has been written by different authors. In the opening of Canto I in Don Juan.

It is the poetic form favored by the Italian satirical writers of mock-heroic romances.

Don Juan (Byron)/Canto the Sixth

Byron wrote. Print Manning. He was a passionate person and searched for his own identities. Bryon pursues the human nature of love and there is nothing to do with moral. Even though the love of Byron is beyond the morality. Critical Essays on Lord Byron. Peter J. Don Juan criticizes the civilized culture is against the human nature.

In his master poem Don Juan. Print Don Juan Byron.

Byron wrote Don Juan to criticize the religious society. References Christ. He loves and lives by his own heart. Byron is a true person who has this courage to present himself. Print Lee. The character of Don Juan reflects his own personalities that he is romantic and unrestrained.

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CVIII Her face declined and was unseen; her hair Fell in long tresses like the weeping willow, Sweeping the marble underneath her chair, Or rather sofa for it was all pillow, A low soft ottoman , and black despair Stirr'd up and down her bosom like a billow, Which rushes to some shore whose shingles check Its farther course, but must receive its wreck.

Byron wrote. Structure[ edit ] The poem is in eight line iambic pentameter with the rhyme scheme ab ab ab cc — often the last rhyming couplet is used for a humor comic line or humorous bathos.