Shorter novels, vol. 3 : $b Eighteenth centuryJohnson, Samuel
General
Shorter novels, vol. 3 : $b Eighteenth century
Johnson, Samuel
English fiction -- 18th century
Beneath this dome a general silence prevailed; for there was nothing to
disturb it but the jaws of Bababalouk, who had untrussed himself to eat
with greater advantage, being anxious to make amends for his fast in the
mountains. As his spirits were too high to admit of his sleeping, and
hating to be idle, he proposed with himself to visit the harem, and
repair to his charge of the ladies: to examine if they had been properly
lubricated with the balm of Mecca; if their eyebrows and tresses were in
order; and, in a word, to perform all the little offices they might
need. He sought for a long time together, but without being able to find
out the door. He durst not speak aloud, for fear of disturbing the
caliph; and not a soul was stirring in the precincts of the palace. He
almost despaired of effecting his purpose, when a low whispering just
reached his ear. It came from the dwarfs, who were returned to their old
occupation, and, for the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time in their
lives, were reading over the Koran. They very politely invited
Bababalouk to be of their party; but his head was full of other
concerns. The dwarfs, though not a little scandalized at his dissolute
morals, directed him to the apartments he wanted to find. His way
thither lay through a hundred dark corridors, along which he groped as
he went, and at last began to catch, from the extremity of a passage,
the charming gossiping of the women, which not a little delighted his
heart. “Ah, ha! what, not yet asleep?” cried he; and, taking long
strides as he spoke, “did you not suspect me of abjuring my charge?” Two
of the black eunuchs, on hearing a voice so loud, left their party in
haste, sabre in hand, to discover the cause; but presently was repeated
on all sides, “’Tis only Bababalouk! no one but Bababalouk!” This
circumspect guardian, having gone up to a thin veil of carnation-colour
silk that hung before the doorway, distinguished, by means of the
softened splendour that shone through it, an oval bath of dark porphyry,
surrounded by curtains, festooned in large folds. Through the apertures
between them, as they were not drawn close, groups of young slaves were
visible; amongst whom Bababalouk perceived his pupils, indulgingly
expanding their arms, as if to embrace the perfumed water and refresh
themselves after their fatigues. The looks of tender languor; their
confidential whispers, and the enchanting smiles with which they were
imparted; the exquisite fragrance of the roses: all combined to inspire
a voluptuousness, which even Bababalouk himself was scarce able to
withstand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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