"In safety?" croaked Zabastes with an accent of ironic surprise.. "To
be sure! ... Is he a baby in swaddling-clothes that he cannot be
trusted out alone to take care of himself? In safety?--aye! I warrant
you he is safe enough, and silly enough, and lazy enough to please any
one of his idiot flatterers, . . moreover my 'master!"--and he
emphasized this word with indescribable bitterness--"hath slept as
soundly as a swine, and hath duly bathed with the punctiliousness of a
conceited swan, and being suitably combed, perfumed, attired, and
throned as becomes his dainty puppetship, is now condescending to
partake of vulgar food in the seclusion of his own apartment. Go
thither and you shall find his verse-stringing Mightiness nobly
enshrined as a god among a worshipping crowd of witless maidens,--he
hath inquired for you many times, which is somewhat of a wonder, seeing
that as a rule he concerns his mind with naught save himself!
Furthermore, he is graciously pleased to be in a manner solicitous on
behalf of the maiden Niphrata, who hath suddenly disappeared from the
household, leaving no message to explain the cause of her evanishment.
Hath seen her? ... No?"--and the old man thumped his stick petulantly
on the floor as Theos shook his head in the negative--"'Tis the only
feminine creature I ever had patience to speak with,--a modest wench
and a gentle one, and were it not for her idolatrous adoration of
Sah-luma, she would be fairly sensible withal. No matter!--she has
gone; everything goes, even good women, and nothing lasts save folly,
of which there shall surely never be an end!"
Here apparently conscious that he had shown more feeling in speaking of
Niphrata than was usual with him, he looked up impatiently and waved
his staff toward Sah-luma's study; "In, in, boy! In, to, the Chief of
poets and prince of egotists! He waits your service,--he is all agape
and thirsty for more flattery and delicate cajolement, ... stuff him
with praise, good youth! ... and who knows but a portion of his mantle
may descend on YOU hereafter and make of YOU as conceited and pretty a
bantling bard for the glory of proud posterity!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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