e not yourself to the meanness of your
slave."

"No, Emir," replied Vathek; "I raise her to an equality with myself; I
declare her my wife, and the glory of your race shall extend from one
generation to another."

"Alas! my lord," said Fakreddin, as he plucked off the honours of his
beard, "cut short the days of your faithful servant, rather than force
him to depart from his word. Nouronihar, as her hands evince, is
solemnly promised to Gulchenrouz, the son of my brother Ali Hassan; they
are united also in heart, their faith is mutually plighted, and affiances
so sacred cannot be broken."

"What then!" replied the Caliph, bluntly, "would you surrender this
divine beauty to a husband more womanish than herself? and can you
imagine that I will suffer her charms to decay in hands so inefficient
and nerveless? No! she is destined to live out her life within my
embraces: such is my will; retire, and disturb not the time I devote to
the homage of her charms."

The irritated Emir drew forth his sabre, presented it to Vathek, and
stretching out his neck, said in a firm tone of voice: "Strike your
unhappy host, my lord! he has lived long enough, since he hath seen the
Prophet's Vicegerent violate the rites of hospitality."

At his uttering these words Nouronihar, unable to support any longer the
conflict of her passions, sank down in a swoon. Vathek, both terrified
for her life and furious at an opposition to his will, bade Fakreddin
assist his daughter, and withdrew, darting his terrible look at the
unfortunate Emir, who suddenly fell backward, bathed in a sweat cold as
the damp of death.

Gulchenrouz, who had escaped from the hands of Bababalouk, and was that
instant returned, called out for help as loudly as he could, not having
strength to afford it himself. Pale and panting, the poor child
attempted to revive Nouronihar by caresses; and it happened that the
thrilling warmth of his lips restored her to life. Fakreddin beginning
also to recover from the look of the Caliph, with difficulty tottered to
a seat, and after warily casting round his eye to see if this dangerous
prince was gone, sent for Shaban and Sutlememe, and said to them apart:

"My friends! violent evils require as violent remedies; the Caliph has
brought desolation and horror into my family, and how shall we resist his
power? another of his looks will send me to my grave. Fetch then that
narcotic powder which the Dervish brought me from Aracan; a