Note Page 244 — VATHEK: AN ARABIAN TALE BY WILLIAM BECKFORD (continued 2)

Casting her eyes within in this kind of trance, she beheld a large cistern of gold, filled with a water, the vapour of which 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 are 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 a pitiful husband?”—“And can she,” rejoined the other voice, “be amused with such empty toys, 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 love for her? No! she will be wise enough to answer that passion alone that can aggrandize 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.”