y dwell on the detailed geography of a
woman's body, with the sick imagination of a schoolboy, till the beautiful
seems almost beastly. In _The Anagram_ and _The Comparison_ he plays the
Yahoo at the expense of all women by the similes he uses in insulting two
of them. In _The Perfume_ he relates the story of an intrigue with a girl
whose father discovered his presence in the house as a result of his using
scent. Donne's jest about it is suggestive of his uncontrollable passion
for ugliness:

Had it been some bad smell, he would have thought
That his own feet, or breath, that smell had brought.

It may be contended that in _The Perfume_ he was describing an imaginary
experience, and indeed we have his own words on record: "I did best when I
had least truth for my subjects." But even if we did not accept Mr.
Gosse's common-sense explanation of these words, we should feel that the
details of the story have a vividness that springs straight from reality.
It is difficult to believe that Donne had not actually lived in terror of
the gigantic manservant who was set to spy on the lovers:

The grim eight-foot-high iron-bound serving-man
That oft names God in oaths, and only then;
He that to bar the first gate doth as wide
As the great Rhodian Colossus stride,
Which, if in hell no other pains there were,
Makes me fear hell, because he must be there.

But the most interesting of all the sensual intrigues of Donne, from the
point of view of biography, especially since Mr. Gosse gave it such
commanding significance in that _Life of John Donne_ in which he made a
living man out of a mummy, is that of which we have the story in
_Jealousy_ and _His Parting from Her_. It is another story of furtive and
forbidden love. Its theme is an intrigue carried on under a

Husband's towering eyes,
That flamed with oily sweat of jealousy.

A characteristic touch of grimness is added to the story by making the
husband a deformed man. Donne, however, merely laughs at his deformity, as
he bids the lady laugh at the jealousy that reduces her to tears:

O give him many thanks, he is courteous,
That in suspecting kindly warneth us.
We must not, as we used, flout openly,
In scoffing riddles, his deformity;
Nor at his board together being set,
With words nor touch scarce looks adulterate.

And he proposes that, now that the husband seems to have discovered them,
they shall henceforth carry on the