time obscured by the thickness of the incenses floating. As he became
familiar with the place, he saw marked therein a board spread at one end
with viands and wines, and the nosegay in a water-vase, and cups of gold
and a service of gold,--every preparation for feasting mightily. So the
soul of Aswarak leapt, and he cried, 'Now unveil thyself, O moon of our
meeting, my mistress!'

The voice of Bhanavar answered him, 'Not till we have feasted and
drunken, and it seemeth little in our eyes. Surely the chamber is secure:
could I have chosen one better for our meeting, O Aswarak?'

Upon that he entreated her to sit with him to the feast, but she cried,
'Nay! delay till the other is come.'

Cried he, 'Another?'

But she exclaimed, 'Hush!' and saying thus went forward to the foot of
the passage, and Boolp was there, following Ukleet, both of them under a
weight of bags and boxes. So she welcomed the broker, and led him to the
feast, he coughing and wheezing and blinking, unwitting the vexation of
the Vizier, nor that one other than himself was there. When Boolp heard
the voice of the Vizier, in astonishment, addressing him, he started back
and fell upon his bags, and the task of coaxing him to the board was as
that of haling a distempered beast to the water. Then they sat and
feasted together, and Ukleet with them; and if Aswarak or Boolp waxed
impatient of each other's presence, he whispered to them, 'Only wait! see
what she reserveth for you.' And Bhanavar mused with herself, 'Truly that
reserved shall be not long coming!' So they drank, and wine got the
mastery of Aswarak, so that he made no secret of his passion, and began
to lean to her and verse extemporaneously in her ear; and she stinted not
in her replies, answering to his urgency in girlish guise, sighing behind
the veil, as if under love's influence. And the Vizier pressed close, and
sang:

'Tis said that love brings beauty to the cheeks
Of them that love and meet, but mine are pale;
For merciless disdain on me she wreaks,
And hides her visage from my passionate tale:
I have her only, only when she speaks.
Bhanavar, unveil!

I have thee, and I have thee not! Like one
Lifted by spirits to a shining dale
In Paradise, who seeks to leap and run
And clasp the beauty, but his foot doth fail,
For he is blind: ah! then more woful none!
Bhanavar, unveil!

He thrust the wine-cup to her, and she lifted it under her