A Sequel to Don Juan — page 242: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DON: JUAN. 233 LXXXI. He pressed the lady’s hand, then turned away With hurried steps, and soon amidst the trees Was out of sight.—’ Twas now the hour most gay, E’en for that gay resort—the Tuileries ; When the Parisian fashion loves to stray Amidst the groves to catch the gentle breeze, Kat ices and make love—discuss the news— | Quote some fresh pun, or the last book abuse. LX XXII. And at that epoch—though the gory hand Of death seemed stretched to seize new victims daily, Making the loveliest prospect in the land As frightful as was wont to be th’ Old Bailey, When George the Third used to hang up a band Of ten at once, that they might dance more gaily ;— And though blood rolled through France like a swoll’n river, Each haunt of pleasure was as blythe as ever. LXXXIII. The French will deck the scaffold’s self with flowers : Their very grave is made a garden sweet ;*— Laughter and love rule ever in their bowers, Though earth be yawning underneath their feet : And when the dark cloud of their fortune lowers, Then as a play-fellow grim death they meet, And yield their neck unto the fatal knife = With the same recklessness that marked their life. * Witness Pere La Chaise and other French Cemeteries. © CoOnmcloooks. conn