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We tried to console her, but it was useless; she wept, and her long hair was wet with her tears. After two days, we were obliged to restore Oma to the devoted Sylifa. Sylifa was enthusiastic in her love of flowers. It was she who suggested that, at the fête of which I have spoken, the camelopards should be united by wreaths of flowers.
She refused to eat; neither would she retire to rest. As the day was ending she walked into the room where I sat with my numerous guests. She said, "Do you love Sylifa?" "Yes," was my answer. "Then give me back my Oma. Without him I die; already I droop; to-morrow I shall be no more." When asked to amuse us, she said she could not; her heart was too heavy.
I took particular care of the lovely girl, and selected for her husband a very handsome man and a great poet, who was chosen in due form by Sylifa at one of our marriage "choice" meetings. The union was happy, though, perhaps, they loved each other too well. The married couple resided in my palace, and Sylifa continued to afford to me and my guests the greatest recreation and amusement.
She was very fond of a lion brought up in my palace, with which, as a cub, she had played when a child. As a woman, she had complete mastery over the noble animal. Both as a child and as a woman, she, with the lion, formed the subject of many of the beautiful pictures that adorned my palaces. For a particular reason, we once separated Sylifa from her husband for a day.
Among the children of poor parents taken care of and educated by my orders, there was a beautiful girl named Sylifa, the daughter of a labouring man who worked in the ravines. In the early part of my reign I had been struck with her beauty and intelligence, and directed that she should be brought up and educated in my palace.
As a sea nymph, she could never be induced to speak; but, when we addressed her, she always replied in musical tones, because, according to our legends, mermaids always discoursed in song. In the basin of water there were willows, hung with small lyres, through which Sylifa would show her face, and then, taking one of the lyres, would play and sing exquisitely, always keeping up the illusion.
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