All these he wielded to command assent—
But where he wished to win, so well unbent,
That kindness cancell'd fear in those who heard,
And others' gifts shewed mean beside his word—
When echoed to the heart as from his own,
His deep yet tender melody of tone:
But such was foreign to his wonted mood,
He cared not what he soften'd—but subdued;— 550
The evil passions of his youth had made
Him value less who loved—than what obeyed.
Around him mustering ranged his ready guard.
Before him Juan stands—"Are all prepared?"
"They are—nay more—embarked: the latest boat
"Waits but my chief——"
"My sword, and my capote."
Soon firmly girded on, and lightly slung,
His belt and cloak were o'er his shoulders flung;
"Call Pedro here!" He comes—and Conrad bends,
With all the courtesy he deign'd his friends; 560