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.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124