Bababalouk, who was a thorough adept in coincidences of this nature, and knew that the worst game should be played with the best face, immediately made a signal for all to retire; and no sooner did he perceive beneath the sofa the little one’s feet, than he drew him forth without ceremony, set him upon his shoulders, and lavished on him, as he went off, a thousand unwelcome caresses. Gulchenrouz cried out, and resisted till his cheeks became the colour of the blossom of pomegranates, and his tearful eyes sparkled with indignation. He cast a significant glance at Nouronihar, which the Caliph noticing, asked, “Is that, then, your Gulchenrouz?”—“Sovereign of the world!” answered she, “spare my cousin, whose innocence and gentleness deserve not your anger!”—“Take comfort,” said Vathek, with a smile; “he is in good hands. Bababalouk is fond of children; and never goes without sweetmeats and comfits.” The daughter of Fakreddin was abashed, and suffered Gulchenrouz to be borne away without adding a word. The tumult of her bosom betrayed her confusion, and Vathek becoming still more impassioned, gave a loose to his frenzy; which had only not subdued the last faint strugglings of reluctance, when the emir suddenly bursting in, threw his face upon the ground, at the feet of the Caliph, and said: “Commander of the faithful! abase 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 a few grey hairs of his beard; “cut short the days of your faithful servant, rather than force him to depart from his word. Nouronihar 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 night I devote to the worship 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 rights of hospitality.” At his uttering these words, Nouronihar, unable to support any longer the conflict of her passions, sunk 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 as cold as the damp of death.