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The transient piety of Vathek had occasioned her some serious alarms, but the present was an evil of far greater magnitude; she resolved, therefore, without hesitation, to write to Carathis, and acquaint her that all things went ill; that they had eaten, slept, and revelled at an old Emir’s, whose sanctity was very formidable, and that after all, the prospect of possessing the treasures of the pre-adamite Sultans was no less remote than before.
The moment it had taken its direction, Gulchenrouz, whose heart always trembled at anything sudden or rare, drew Nouronihar by the robe, and anxiously requested her to return to the harem; the women were importunate in seconding the entreaty, but the curiosity of the Emir’s daughter prevailed; she not only refused to go back, but resolved at all hazards to pursue the appearance.
The nurse of the Emir’s daughter, observing her pupil sit ruminating with her eyes on the ground, endeavoured to amuse her with diverting tales, to which Gulchenrouz, who had already forgotten his inquietudes, listened with a breathless attention; he laughed, he clapped his hands, and passed a hundred little tricks on the whole of the company, without omitting the eunuchs, whom he provoked to run after him, in spite of their age and decrepitude.
For a moment he seemed to meditate; then, with the melancholy of one renounceing some immense ambition, he murmured, half to himself, half to the sky, “For him to increase I must diminish.” “As for that, you are not much to look at now. I must go. I must braid my hair; the emir’s eyes are eager.”
The sultanas accepted with pleasure these obliging offers, and followed the young lady to the Emir’s harem, where we must for a moment leave them, and return to the Caliph.
Bababalouk, whose good graces this beauty had regained, spared no attention that their repasts might be served up with the minutest exactness; some exquisite rarity was ever placed before them; and he sent even to Schiraz for that fragrant and delicious wine which had been hoarded up in bottles prior to the birth of Mahomet; he had excavated little ovens in the rock to bake the nice manchets which were prepared by the hands of Nouronihar, from whence they had derived a flavour so grateful to Vathek, that he regarded the ragouts of his other wives as entirely mawkish; whilst they would have died at the Emir’s of chagrin at finding themselves so neglected, if Fakreddin, notwithstanding his resentment, had not taken pity upon them.
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