pleasure and surprise, had no sooner raised up his
head than a handful of jasmine dropped on his face; an abundance of
tittering succeeded the frolic, and instantly appeared through the bushes
the elegant forms of several young females, skipping and bounding like
roes. The fragrance diffused from their hair struck the sense of Vathek,
who, in an ecstasy, suspending his repast, said to Bababalouk:

"Are the Peris come down from their spheres? Note her in particular
whose form is so perfect, venturously running on the brink of the
precipice, and turning back her head, as regardless of nothing but the
graceful flow of her robe; with what captivating impatience doth she
contend with the bushes for her veil! could it be she who threw the
jasmine at me?"

"Ay! she it was; and you too would she throw from the top of the rock,"
answered Bababalouk; "for that is my good friend Nouronihar, who so
kindly lent me her swing; my dear lord and master," added he, twisting a
twig that hung by the rind from a willow, "let me correct her for want of
respect; the Emir will have no reason to complain, since (bating what I
owe to his piety) he is much to be censured for keeping a troop of girls
on the mountains, whose sharp air gives their blood too brisk a
circulation."

"Peace, blasphemer!" said the Caliph; "speak not thus of her who over her
mountains leads my heart a willing captive; contrive rather that my eyes
may be fixed upon hers, that I may respire her sweet breath, as she
bounds panting along these delightful wilds!" On saying these words,
Vathek extended his arms towards the hill, and directing his eyes with an
anxiety unknown to him before, endeavoured to keep within view the object
that enthralled his soul; but her course was as difficult to follow as
the flight of one of those beautiful blue butterflies of Cashmere, which
are at once so volatile and rare.

The Caliph, not satisfied with seeing, wished also to hear Nouronihar,
and eagerly turned to catch the sound of her voice; at last he
distinguished her whispering to one of her companions behind the thicket
from whence she had thrown the jasmine: "A Caliph, it must be owned, is a
fine thing to see, but my little Gulchenrouz is much more amiable; one
lock of his hair is of more value to me than the richest embroidery of
the Indies; I had rather that his teeth should mischievously press my
finger than the richest ring of the imperial treasure. Where have you
left him,