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And draw dreams from the haschish that is the love of women! Janat! Janat! Janat!" The wind grew louder and sand was blown along the cafe floor and about the coffee-cups.
These proud Turks died stolidly, many of them. In streets of Kassim-pacha, in crowded Taxim on the heights of Pera, and under the long Moorish arcades of Sultan-Selim, I have seen the open-air barber's razor with his bones, and with him the half-shaved skull of the faithful, and the long two-hours' narghile with traces of burnt tembaki and haschish still in the bowl.
Under the illusion she fancied herself picking up bones belonging to his skeleton, which she handled with tender reverence, and when there was an imaginary mound of them formed she placed, with deep-drawn sighs and tears and genuflections, a cross above them. Under the influence of haschish everything looked rosy and gayety prevailed. The subject was a young girl, very fond of the drama.
And always I knew it: some faintest secret whisper which whispered me: "You are the Arch-one, the motif of the world, Adam, and the rest of men not much." And they are gone all! all! as no doubt they deserved: and I, as was meet, remain. And there are wines, and opiums, and haschish; and there are oils, and spices, fruits and bivalves, and soft-breathing Cyclades, and scarlet luxurious Orients.
My mind was full of fancy, imagination, flowing with ideas; a sense of lightness and joyousness lifted me up. I wanted music, and felt full of laughter. Like the half-fabled haschish, the golden bloom of the hops had entered the nervous system; intoxication without wine, without injurious after-effect, dream intoxication; they were wine for the nerves.
I was listlessly intrenched in a corner, far from the circle of busy talkers, just sufficiently awake to be conscious that I was asleep a delirious condition, which I recommend to your consideration, resembling the beginning of haschish intoxication when by some turn in the conversation Madame de Bléry mentioned my name and pointed me out.
Luys operated, by a jury of scientists above all suspicion of having lent themselves to any trickery. Alcohol when put to the nape in a tube no larger than a homoeopathist's vial and hermetically sealed produced exactly the same effect as if imbibed at a bar. Absinthe, haschish, opium, morphine, beer, champagne, tea and coffee were in succession tried with their characteristic effects.
The house, I knew, would contain divans, yatags, cushions, foods, wines, sherbets, henna, saffron, mastic, raki, haschish, costumes, and a hundred luxuries still good. There was an outer wall, but the foliage over it had been singed away, and the gate all charred. It gave way at a push from my palm. The girl was close behind me.
On the hot earth over which, whenever there is any wind from the desert, the white sand grains sift and settle, were laid innumerable rugs of gaudy colours on which were disposed all sorts of goods for sale; heavy ornaments for women, piles of burnouses, haiks, gandouras, gaiters of bright red leather, slippers, weapons many jewelled and gilt, or rich with patterns in silver pyramids of the cords of camels' hair that bind the turbans of the desert men, handkerchiefs and cottons of all the colours of the rainbow, cheap perfumes in azure flasks powdered with golden and silver flowers and leaves, incense twigs, panniers of henna to dye the finger-nails of the faithful, innumerable comestibles, vegetables, corn, red butcher's meat thickly covered with moving insects, pale yellow cakes crisp and shining, morsels of liver spitted on skewers which, cooked with dust of keef, produce a dreamy drunkenness more overwhelming even than that produced by haschish musical instruments, derboukas, guitars, long pipes, and strange fiddles with two strings, tomtoms, skins of animals with heads and claws, live birds, tortoise backs, and plaits of false hair.
Augustine, and would have delighted that ex-sophist hugely; for, great as he was, and self-denying as he was, he always had a hankering after the dialectic flesh-pots. How he would have rubbed his hands, when Clarian wanted to persuade us that the herb Pantagruelion was no other than Haschish, the expander of souls! Hollo! yonder goes the lad now. I wonder what he is up to.
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