was the description of Rudabeh, which inspired the heart of Zal
with the most violent affection, and imagination added to her charms.

Mihrab again waited on Zal, who received him graciously, and asked him
in what manner he could promote his wishes. Mihrab said that he only
desired him to become his guest at a banquet he intended to invite him
to; but Zal thought proper to refuse, because he well knew, if he
accepted an invitation of the kind from a relation of Zohak, that his
father Sam and the King of Persia would be offended. Mihrab returned to
Kabul disappointed, and having gone into his harem, his wife, Sindokht,
inquired after the stranger from Zabul, the white-headed son of Sam. She
wished to know what he was like, in form and feature, and what account
he gave of his sojourn with the Simurgh. Mihrab described him in the
warmest terms of admiration--he was valiant, he said, accomplished and
handsome, with no other defect than that of white hair. And so boundless
was his praise, that Rudabeh, who was present, drank every word with
avidity, and felt her own heart warmed into admiration and love. Full of
emotion, she afterwards said privately to her attendants:

"To you alone the secret of my heart
I now unfold; to you alone confess
The deep sensations of my captive soul.
I love, I love; all day and night of him
I think alone--I see him in my dreams--
You only know my secret--aid me now,
And soothe the sorrows of my bursting heart."

The attendants were startled with this confession and entreaty, and
ventured to remonstrate against so preposterous an attachment.

"What! hast thou lost all sense of shame,
All value for thy honored name!
That thou, in loveliness supreme,
Of every tongue the constant theme,
Should choose, and on another's word.
The nursling of a Mountain Bird!
A being never seen before,
Which human mother never bore!
And can the hoary locks of age,
A youthful heart like thine engage?
Must thy enchanting form be prest
To such a dubious monster's breast?
And all thy beauty's rich array,
Thy peerless charms be thrown away?"

This violent remonstrance was more calculated to rouse the indignation
of Rudabeh than to induce her to change her mind. It did so. But she
subdued her resentment, and again dwelt upon the ardor of her passion.

"My attachment is fixed, my election is made,
And when hearts are enchained 'tis in vain to upbraid.
Neither Kizar