Lastly, in the foreground, and on a level with my window, is a terrace of white marble, adorned with vases and statues. From this, you can descend to the banks of the canal. Protected by the palace, one half of the staircase is in the shade, the other is bathed in the sunlight. On one of the lower steps a black dwarf, that I have dressed in a scarlet doublet in Venetian style, is sleeping beside two greyhounds of great size and beautiful form. By a caprice of the sunlight, the dwarf is in the dazzling zone of its rays, which seem to cover each step with gold dust, while the greyhounds are in the shadow, which is unequally traced on the staircase, and throws its cool, blue, transparent shadows on the white coats of the sleeping dogs. A little farther on, a peacock sits perched on the balustrade in the bright sun. His feathers flash like a rain of rubies, topazes, and emeralds, glittering against a background of ultramarine. Swans swim slowly in the canal, and seem to drag behind them thousands of silvery ribbons; tall, rose-coloured flamingoes walk solemnly along the shore, while, farther off, two crimson parrots quarrel for the fruit of the latania-trees. When they unfold their turquoise wings, they display their long wing-feathers, tinted with gold and purple. On a tuft of amaryllis, a beautiful yellow popinjay, whose neck reflects the tints of the rainbow, opens out his long white tail-feathers, while the swallows and kingfishers lightly skim over the waters of the canal. I have just read over these pages, which give a perfect description of the marvellous scene that I look on. All is mentioned. But how feebly words can depict such a spectacle! The relation they bear to the reality is only such as the dry nomenclature of the naturalist to the beautiful object he describes. CHAPTER VII DAYS OF SUNSHINE--THE GREEK NATIONAL DANCE I hear peals of silvery laughter, and beyond the last steps of the staircase, which half conceals them, the playful figures of some of my slave girls appear. They are bathing in the river. Some of them, holding their beautiful arms above their heads, twist their long brown hair, from which a rain of liquid pearls rolls down on to their bosoms and their bare backs. Others, holding each other's hands, advance timidly on the sandy shore of the lake; they bow their heads, and pretend to be afraid. Nothing could be more beautiful than their pure and delicate profiles, which stand out like alabaster against the luminous horizon, like white cameos on a transparent stone. Their hair is twisted in a knot low on the back of their heads, and leaves their little ears exposed; their necks are round and white, and all the lines of their bodies are as elegant as those of the ancient Greeks.