Note Page 239 — VATHEK: AN ARABIAN TALE BY WILLIAM BECKFORD (continued 2)

“Peace! blasphemer,” said the caliph; “speak not thus of her, who, over these mountains, leads my heart a willing captive. Contrive, rather, that my eyes may be fixed upon hers; that I may respire her sweet breath as she bounds panting along these delightful wilds!” On saying these words, Vathek extended his arms towards the hill; and directing his eyes with an anxiety unknown to him before, endeavoured to keep within view the object that enthralled his soul; but her course was as difficult to follow as the flight of one of those beautiful blue butterflies of Cashmere* which are at once, so volatile and rare.