But all his great preparatives for dying
Dissolved like snow before a woman crying.
CXLII.
As through his palms Bob Acres' valour oozed,[312]
So Juan's virtue ebbed, I know not how;
And first he wondered why he had refused;
And then, if matters could be made up now;
And next his savage virtue he accused,
Just as a friar may accuse his vow,
Or as a dame repents her of her oath,