The History of Caliph Vathek, William Beckford [books for 9th graders TXT] 📗
- Author: William Beckford
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“Alas!” said she, “that I were but in those secure and illuminated apartments where my evenings glided on with Gulchenrouz! Dear child! how would thy heart flutter with terror wert thou wandering in these wild solitudes like me!” At the close of this apostrophe she regained her road, and, coming to steps hewn out in the rock, ascended them undismayed; the light, which was now gradually enlarging, appeared above her on the summit of the mountain; at length she distinguished a plaintive and melodious union of voices, proceeding from a sort of cavern, that resembled the dirges which are sung over tombs; a sound, likewise, like that which arises from the filling of baths, at the same time struck her ear; she continued ascending, and discovered large wax torches in full blaze planted here and there in the fissures of the rock; this preparation filled her with fear, whilst the subtle and potent odour which the torches exhaled caused her to sink almost lifeless at the entrance of the grot.
Casting her eyes within in this kind of trance, she beheld a large cistern of gold filled with a water, whose vapour distilled on her face a dew of the essence of roses; a soft symphony resounded through the grot; on the sides of the cistern she noticed appendages of royalty, diadems, and feathers of the heron, all sparkling with carbuncles; whilst her attention was fixed on this display of magnificence, the music ceased, and a voice instantly demanded:
“For what monarch were these torches kindled, this bath prepared, and these habiliments, which belong, not only to the sovereigns of the earth, but even to the Talismanic Powers?”
To which a second voice answered: “They are for the charming daughter of the Emir Fakreddin.”
“What,” replied the first, “for that trifler, who consumes her time with a giddy child, immersed in softness, and who at best can make but an enervated husband?”
“And can she,” rejoined the other voice, “be amused with such empty trifles, whilst the Caliph, the sovereign of the world, he who is destined to enjoy the treasures of the pre-adamite Sultans, a prince six feet high, and whose eyes pervade the inmost soul of a female, is inflamed with the love of her. No! she will be wise enough to answer that passion alone that can aggrandise her glory; no doubt she will, and despise the puppet of her fancy. Then all the riches this place contains, as well as the carbuncle of Giamschid, shall be hers.”
“You judge right,” returned the first voice, “and I haste to Istakar to prepare the palace of subterranean fire for the reception of the bridal pair.”
The voices ceased, the torches were extinguished, the most entire darkness succeeded, and Nouronihar, recovering with a start, found herself reclined on a sofa in the harem of her father. She clapped her hands, and immediately came together Gulchenrouz and her women, who, in despair at having lost her, had despatched eunuchs to seek her in every direction; Shaban appeared with the rest, and began to reprimand her with an air of consequence:
“Little impertinent,” said he, “whence got you false keys? or are you beloved of some Genius that hath given you a pick-lock? I will try the extent of your power; come, to your chamber! through the two skylights; and expect not the company of Gulchenrouz; be expeditious! I will shut you up in the double tower.”
At these menaces Nouronihar indignantly raised her head, opened on Shaban her black eyes, which, since the important dialogue of the enchanted grot, were considerably enlarged, and said: “Go, speak thus to slaves, but learn to reverence her who is born to give laws, and subject all to her power.”
She was proceeding in the same style, but was interrupted by a sudden exclamation of “The Caliph! The Caliph!” The curtains at once were thrown open, and the slaves prostrate in double rows, whilst poor little Gulchenrouz hid himself beneath the elevation of a sofa. At first appeared a file of black eunuchs, trailing after them long trains of muslin embroidered with gold, and holding in their hands censers, which dispensed as they passed the grateful perfume of the wood of aloes; next marched Bababalouk with a solemn strut, and tossing his head as not over-pleased at the visit; Vathek came close after, superbly robed; his gait was unembarrassed and noble, and his presence would have engaged admiration, though he had not been the sovereign of the world; he approached Nouronihar with a throbbing heart, and seemed enraptured at the full effulgence of her radiant eyes, of which he had before caught but a few glimpses; but she instantly depressed them, and her confusion augmented her beauty.
Bababalouk, who was a thorough adept in coincidences of this nature, and knew that the worst game should be played with the best face, immediately made a signal for all to retire; and no sooner did he perceive beneath the sofa the little one’s feet, than he drew him forth without ceremony, set him upon his shoulders, and lavished on him as he went off a thousand odious caresses; Gulchenrouz cried out, and resisted till his cheeks became the colour of the blossom of the pomegranate, and the tears that started into his eyes shot forth a gleam of indignation; he cast a significant glance at Nouronihar, which the Caliph noticing, asked: “Is that then your Gulchenrouz?”
“Sovereign of the world?” answered she, “spare my cousin, whose innocence and gentleness deserve not your anger.”
“Take comfort,” said Vathek, with a smile; “he is in good hands. Bababalouk is fond of children, and never goes without sweetmeats and comfits.”
The daughter of Fakreddin was abashed, and suffered Gulchenrouz to be borne away without adding a word. The tumult of her bosom betrayed her confusion; and Vathek, becoming still more impassioned, gave a loose to his frenzy, which had only not subdued the last faint strugglings of reluctance, when the Emir, suddenly bursting in, threw his face upon the ground at the feet of the Caliph, and said:
“Commander of the Faithful! abase not yourself to the meanness of your slave.”
“No, Emir,” replied Vathek; “I raise her to an equality with myself; I declare her my wife, and the glory of your race shall extend from one generation to another.”
“Alas! my lord,” said Fakreddin, as he plucked off the honours of his beard, “cut short the days of your faithful servant, rather than force him to depart from his word. Nouronihar, as her hands evince, is solemnly promised to Gulchenrouz, the son of my brother Ali Hassan; they are united also in heart, their faith is mutually plighted, and affiances so sacred cannot be broken.”
“What then!” replied the Caliph, bluntly, “would you surrender this divine beauty to a husband more womanish than herself? and can you imagine that I will suffer her charms to decay in hands so inefficient and nerveless? No! she is destined to live out her life within my embraces: such is my will; retire, and disturb not the time I devote to the homage of her charms.”
The irritated Emir drew forth his sabre, presented it to Vathek, and stretching out his neck, said in a firm tone of voice: “Strike your unhappy host, my lord! he has lived long enough, since he hath seen the Prophet’s Vicegerent violate the rites of hospitality.”
At his uttering these words Nouronihar, unable to support any longer the conflict of her passions, sank down in a swoon. Vathek, both terrified for her life and furious at an opposition to his will, bade Fakreddin assist his daughter, and withdrew, darting his terrible look at the unfortunate Emir, who suddenly fell backward, bathed in a sweat cold as the damp of death.
Gulchenrouz, who had escaped from the hands of Bababalouk, and was that instant returned, called out for help as loudly as he could, not having strength to afford it himself. Pale and panting, the poor child attempted to revive Nouronihar by caresses; and it happened that the thrilling warmth of his lips restored her to life. Fakreddin beginning also to recover from the look of the Caliph, with difficulty tottered to a seat, and after warily casting round his eye to see if this dangerous prince was gone, sent for Shaban and Sutlememe, and said to them apart:
“My friends! violent evils require as violent remedies; the Caliph has brought desolation and horror into my family, and how shall we resist his power? another of his looks will send me to my grave. Fetch then that narcotic powder which the Dervish brought me from Aracan; a dose of it, the effect of which will continue three days, must be administered to each of these children; the Caliph will believe them to be dead, for they will have all the appearance of death; we shall go as if to inter them in the cave of Meimoune, at the entrance of the great desert of sand, and near the cabin of my dwarfs. When all the spectators shall be withdrawn, you, Shaban, and four select eunuchs, shall convey them to the lake, where provisions shall be ready to support them a month; for one day allotted to the surprise this event will occasion, five to the tears, a fortnight to reflection, and the rest to prepare for renewing his progress, will, according to my calculation, fill up the whole time that Vathek will tarry, and I shall then be freed from his intrusion.”
“Your plan,” said Sutlememe, “is a good one, if it can but be effected. I have remarked that Nouronihar is well able to support the glances of the Caliph, and that he is far from being sparing of them to her; be assured, therefore, notwithstanding her fondness for Gulchenrouz, she will never remain quiet while she knows him to be here, unless we can persuade her that both herself and Gulchenrouz are really dead, and that they were conveyed to those rocks for a limited season to expiate the little faults of which their love was the cause; we will add that we killed ourselves in despair, and that your dwarfs, whom they never yet saw, will preach to them delectable sermons. I will engage that everything shall succeed to the bent of your wishes.”
“Be it so!” said Fakreddin. “I approve your proposal; let us lose not a moment to give it effect.”
They forthwith hastened to seek for the powder, which, being mixed in a sherbet, was immediately drank by Gulchenrouz and Nouronihar. Within the space of an hour both were seized with violent palpitations, and a general numbness gradually ensued; they arose from the floor, where they had remained ever since the Caliph’s departure, and, ascending to the sofa, reclined themselves at full length upon it, clasped in each other’s embraces.
“Cherish me, my dear Nouronihar!” said Gulchenrouz; “put thy hand upon my heart, for it feels as if it were frozen. Alas! thou art as cold as myself! Hath the Caliph murdered us both with his terrible look?”
“I am dying!” cried she in a faltering voice; “press me closer; I am ready to expire!”
“Let us die then together,” answered the little Gulchenrouz, whilst his breast laboured with a convulsive sigh; “let me at least breathe forth my soul on thy lips!” They spoke no more, and became as dead.
Immediately the most piercing cries were heard through the harem, whilst Shaban and Sutlememe personated with great adroitness the parts of persons in despair. The Emir, who was sufficiently mortified to be forced into such untoward expedients, and had now for the first time made a trial of his powder, was under no necessity of counterfeiting grief. The slaves, who had flocked together from all quarters, stood motionless at the spectacle before them; all lights were extinguished save two lamps, which shed a wan glimmering over the faces of these lovely flowers, that seemed to be faded in the spring-time of life; funeral vestments were prepared, their bodies were washed with rose-water, their beautiful tresses were braided and incensed, and they were wrapped in simars whiter than alabaster. At the moment that their attendants were placing two wreaths of their favourite jasmines on their brows, the Caliph, who had just heard of the tragical catastrophe, arrived; he looked not less pale and haggard than the Gouls, that wander at night among graves; forgetful of himself and every one else, he broke through the midst of the slaves, fell prostrate at the foot of the sofa, beat his bosom, called himself “atrocious murderer!” and invoked upon his head a thousand imprecations; with a trembling hand he raised the veil that covered the countenance of Nouronihar, and, uttering a loud shriek, fell lifeless on the floor. The chief of the eunuchs dragged him off with horrible grimaces, and repeated as he went: “Ay, I foresaw she would play you some ungracious turn!”
No sooner was the Caliph gone than the Emir commanded biers to be brought, and forbad that any one should enter the harem. Every window was fastened, all instruments
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