"
"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.
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