the attar of roses. Who can attempt to
describe the sumptuousness of the palace, and the splendour of the hall
in which the beautiful princess sat, to receive the homage of the flower
of the youth of her kingdom. Soothingly soft, sweetly, lovingly soft,
were the dulcet notes of the warbling Asparas, or singing girls, now
ebbing, now flowing in tender gushes of melody, while down the sides of
the elegant and highly pillared hall, now advancing, now retreating, the
dancing girls, each beautiful as Artee herself in her splendour, seemed
almost to demand, in their aggregate, that gaze of homage due only to
the peerless individual who at once burned and languished on her emerald
throne. Three days had the princess sat in that hall of delight, tired
and annoyed with the constant stream of the Souffra youths, who
prostrated themselves and passed on. The fourth morning dawned, and none
could say that either by gesture, sigh, or look, they had been
distinguished by even a shadow of preference. And the noble youths
communed in their despair, and murmured among themselves; many a foot
was stamped with unbecoming impatience, and many a moustache twisted
with a pretty indignation. The inhabitants of the capital blamed the
impetuosity of the youths; to say the least of it, if it were not
disloyal, it was ungallant, and what was worse, they showed no regard
for the welfare of the citizens, over whom they each aspired to reign as
sovereign, for they must be aware that now was the time that the
citizens, from such an influx of aspirants, were reaping a golden
harvest. And they added, with great truth, that a princess who had been
compelled to wait six years to satisfy the doubts of others, had a most
undeniable right to wait as many days to satisfy her own. On the fourth
day, the beautiful Babe-bi-bobu again took her seat on the golden
cushions, with her legs crossed, and her little feet hidden under the
folds of her loose, azure-coloured satin trousers, and it was supposed
that there was more brightness in her eyes, and more animation in her
countenance than on the previous days; but still the crowd passed on
unnoticed. Even the learned Brahmins, who stood immovable in rows on
each side of her throne, became impatient: they talked about the
fickleness of the sex, the impossibility of inducing them to make up
their minds; they whispered wise saws and sayings from Ferdistan and
others, about the caprice of women, and the instability of the