us in his distress, and went in for all sorts
of absurdities, under the belief that he was advancing his suit.
One of them was the writing -- with the assistance of one of
the grave and revered signiors who instructed us, and who, whatever
may have been the measure of his erudition, did not understand
how to scan a line -- of a most interminable Zu-Vendi love-song,
of which the continually recurring refrain was something about
'I will kiss thee; oh yes, I will kiss thee!' Now among the
Zu-Vendi it is a common and most harmless thing for young men
to serenade ladies at night, as I believe they do in the southern
countries of Europe, and sing all sorts of nonsensical songs
to them. The young men may or may not be serious; but no offence
is meant and none is taken, even by ladies of the highest rank,
who accept the whole thing as an English girl would a
gracefully-turned compliment.

Availing himself of this custom, Good bethought him that would
serenade Sorais, whose private apartments, together with those
of her maidens, were exactly opposite our own, on the further
side of a narrow courtyard which divided one section of the great
palace from another. Accordingly, having armed himself with
a native zither, on which, being an adept with the light guitar,
he had easily learned to strum, he proceeded at midnight -- the
fashionable hour for this sort of caterwauling -- to make night
hideous with his amorous yells. I was fast asleep when they
began, but they soon woke me up -- for Good possesses a tremendous
voice and has no notion of time -- and I ran to my window-place
to see what was the matter. And there, standing in the full
moonlight in the courtyard, I perceived Good, adorned with an
enormous ostrich feather head-dress and a flowing silken cloak,
which it is the right thing to wear upon these occasions, and
shouting out the abominable song which he and the old gentleman
had evolved, to a jerky, jingling accompaniment. From the direction
of the quarters of the maids of honour came a succession of faint
sniggerings; but the apartments of Sorais herself -- whom I devoutly
pitied if she happened to be there -- were silent as the grave.
There was absolutely no end to that awful song, with its eternal
'I will kiss thee!' and at last neither I nor Sir Henry, whom
I had summoned to enjoy the sight, could stand it any longer;
so, remembering the dear old story, I put my head to the window
opening, and shouted, 'For Hea