Shorter novels, vol. 3 : $b Eighteenth centuryJohnson, Samuel
General
Shorter novels, vol. 3 : $b Eighteenth century
Johnson, Samuel
English fiction -- 18th century
violent exertions, they attained a great height in a quarter of an hour.
Carathis, alarmed at the signs of her mutes, advanced to the staircase,
went down a few steps, and heard several voices calling out from below,
“You shall in a moment have water!” Being rather alert, considering her
age, she presently regained the top of the tower, and bade her son
suspend the sacrifice for some minutes; adding, “We shall soon be
enabled to render it more grateful. Certain dolts of your subjects,
imagining, no doubt, that we were on fire, have been rash enough to
break through those doors which had hitherto remained inviolate, for the
sake of bringing up water. They are very kind, you must allow, so soon
to forget the wrongs you have done them; but that is of little moment.
Let us offer them to the Giaour; let them come up; our mutes, who
neither want strength nor experience, will soon dispatch them, exhausted
as they are with fatigue.”--“Be it so,” answered the caliph, “provided
we finish, and I dine.” In fact, these good people, out of breath from
ascending fifteen hundred stairs in such haste, and chagrined at having
spilt by the way the water they had taken, were no sooner arrived at the
top, than the blaze of the flames and the fumes of the mummies at once
overpowered their senses. It was a pity! for they beheld not the
agreeable smile with which the mutes and negresses adjusted the cord to
their necks: these amiable personages rejoiced, however, no less at the
scene. Never before had the ceremony of strangling been performed with
so much facility. They all fell, without the least resistance or
struggle: so that Vathek, in the space of a few moments, found himself
surrounded by the dead bodies of the most faithful of his subjects; all
which were thrown on the top of the pile. Carathis, whose presence of
mind never forsook her, perceiving that she had carcasses sufficient to
complete her oblation, commanded the chains to be stretched across the
staircase, and the iron doors barricadoed, that no more might come up.
No sooner were these orders obeyed, than the tower shook; the dead
bodies vanished in the flames, which at once changed from a swarthy
crimson to a bright rose colour; an ambient vapour emitted the most
exquisite fragrance; the marble columns rang with harmonious sounds, and
the liquefied horns diffused a delicious perfume. Carathis, in
transports, anticipated the success of her enterprise; whilst her mutes
and negresses, to whom these sweets had given the colic, retired
grumbling to their cells.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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