The exaction of these forfeitures, which found sufficient employment for the Eunuchs, gave them such a smell of singed hair as greatly to disgust the ladies of the seraglio, and make it necessary that this new occupation of their guardians should be transferred into other hands. At length, however, an old man presented himself, whose beard was a cubit-and-a-half longer than any that had appeared before him. The officers of the palace whispered to each other, as they ushered him in: “What a pity such a beard should be burnt!” Even the Caliph, when he saw it, concurred with them in opinion; but his concern was entirely needless. This venerable personage read the characters with facility, and explained them verbatim, as follows: “We were made where everything good is made; we are the least of the wonders of a place where all is wonderful; and deserving the sight of the first potentate on earth.” “You translate admirably!” cried Vathek. “I know to what these marvellous characters allude. Let him receive as many robes of honour, and thousands of sequins of gold, as he hath spoken words. I am in some measure relieved from the perplexity that embarrassed me!” Vathek invited the old man to dine, and even to remain some days in the palace. Unluckily for him, he accepted the offer; for the Caliph having ordered him next morning to be called, said: “Read again to me what you have read already; I cannot hear too often the promise that is made me, the completion of which I languish to obtain.” The old man forthwith put on his green spectacles; but they instantly dropped from his nose, on perceiving that the characters he had read the day preceding, had given place to others of different import. “What ails you?” asked the Caliph; “and why these symptoms of wonder?” “Sovereign of the world,” replied the old man, “these sabres hold another language to-day, from that they yesterday held.” “How say you?” returned Vathek. “But it matters not! tell me, if you can, what they mean.” “It is this, my lord,” rejoined the old man: “‘Woe to the rash mortal who seeks to know that of which he should remain ignorant and to undertake that which surpasseth his power!’” “And woe to thee!” cried the Caliph, in a burst of indignation: “to-day thou art void of understanding: begone from my presence, they shall burn but the half of thy beard, because thou wert yesterday fortunate in guessing. My gifts I never resume.” The old man, wise enough to perceive he had luckily escaped, considering the folly of disclosing so disgusting a truth, immediately withdrew, and appeared not again.