Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

(1840 - 1922 / England)

Don Juan’s Good-Night - Poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Teach me, gentle Leporello,
Since you are so wise a fellow,
How your master I may win.
Leporello answers gaily
Slip into his bed and way lay
Him; anon he shall come in.

Soon as he shall find you laid there
Fresh and young, so sweet a maid there,
He shall smile, and joyfully
``I am hungry, Leporello,
Bring us wine, good wine and mellow,
Here is one would sup with me.''

Wine then will I bring (not water),
A feast fit for a king's daughter,
Lay it out in the alcove,
While my Lord with pleasant fancies
Makes his court to you, romances
Of your beauty and his love.

Passion soon shall rise full blossom;
He shall weep upon your bosom,
Make you all his soul's display.
He, in honour as a true man,
Shall declare you the sole woman
He has loved until to--day.

At the last he shall possess you,
And all night. Then with ``God bless you''
Turn to sleep, nor shall you know,
Curtained in your silks and satins,
How at dawn he was off ``to matins.''
His politeness called it so.

But remember, from next morning
You must quite forget the adorning
Of to--night, or earn his curse.
Gold is yours if you but ask it,
Spain and Flanders in a basket.
I am keeper of his purse.

To console you be a forture
Will not grudge. But to importune
His more tenderness? Nay, Nay.
A return to even your beauty
Were too costly a Duke's duty,
One his whole wealth could not pay.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010



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