Shorter novels, vol. 3 : $b Eighteenth centuryJohnson, Samuel
General
Shorter novels, vol. 3 : $b Eighteenth century
Johnson, Samuel
English fiction -- 18th century
The rest of the company looked round at each other in amazement; but the
Indian, without appearing to observe it, quaffed large bumpers to the
health of each of them; sung in a style altogether extravagant; related
stories, at which he laughed immoderately, and poured forth
extemporaneous verses, which would not have been thought bad, but for
the strange grimaces with which they were uttered. In a word, his
loquacity was equal to that of a hundred astrologers; he ate as much as
a hundred porters, and caroused in proportion.
The caliph, notwithstanding the table had been thirty-two times covered,
found himself incommoded by the voraciousness of his guest, who was now
considerably declined in the prince’s esteem. Vathek, however, being
unwilling to betray the chagrin he could hardly disguise, said in a
whisper to Bababalouk, the chief of his eunuchs: “You see how enormous
his performances are in every way; what would be the consequence should
he get at my wives!--Go! redouble your vigilance, and be sure look well
to my Circassians, who would be more to his taste than all of the rest.”
The bird of the morning had thrice renewed his song, when the hour of
the divan was announced. Vathek, in gratitude to his subjects having
promised to attend, immediately arose from table and repaired thither,
leaning upon his vizier, who could scarce support him; so disordered was
the poor prince by the wine he had drunk, and still more by the
extravagant vagaries of his boisterous guest.
The viziers, the officers of the crown and of the law, arranged
themselves in a semicircle about their sovereign, and preserved a
respectful silence; whilst the Indian, who looked as cool as if he had
been fasting, sat down without ceremony on one of the steps of the
throne, laughing in his sleeve at the indignation with which his
temerity had filled the spectators.
The caliph, however, whose ideas were confused, and whose head was
embarrassed, went on administering justice at haphazard; till at length
the prime vizier, perceiving his situation, hit upon a sudden expedient
to interrupt the audience and rescue the honour of his master, to whom
he said in a whisper, “My lord, the Princess Carathis, who hath passed
the night in consulting the planets, informs you that they portend you
evil, and the danger is urgent. Beware lest this stranger, whom you have
so lavishly recompensed for his magical gewgaws, should make some
attempt on your life: his liquor, which at first had the appearance of
effecting your cure, may be no more than a poison, the operation of
which will be sudden. Slight not this surmise; ask him, at least, of
what it was compounded, whence he procured it; and mention the sabres
which you seem to have forgotten.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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