“Mustapha,” observed the pacha, taking his pipe out of his mouth, “what makes the poets talk so much about the Book of Fate?”

“The Book of Fate, your highness, is where is written our Talleh, or destiny.  Can I say more?”

“Allah acbar!  God is great! and it is well said.  But why a book, when nobody can read it?”

“These are great words, and spiced with wisdom.  O pacha! doth not Hafiz say, ‘Every moment you enjoy, count it gain.’  Who can say what will be the event of anything?”

“Wallah thaib! well said, by Allah!  Then why a book, if the book is sealed?”

“Yet there are wise men who can read our Kismet, and foretell.”

“Yes, very true; but I have observed that it is not until after an event has happened, that they tell you of it.  What are these astrologers? Bosh ­nothing ­I have said.”  And the pacha remained some time smoking his pipe in silence.

“May it please your highness,” observed Mustapha, “I have outside a wretch who is anxious to crawl into your presence.  He comes from the far-distant land of Kathay ­an unbeliever, with two tails.”

“Two tails! was he a pacha in his own country?”

“A pacha!  Staffir Allah! ­God forgive me!  A dog ­a most miserable dog ­on my eyes be it; but still he hath two tails.”

“Let the dog with two tails be admitted,” replied the pacha.  “We have said it.”

A yellow-skinned, meagre, and wrinkled old Chinaman was brought in between two of the guards.  His eyes were very small and bleared, his cheek-bones prominent; all that could be discovered of his nose were two expanded nostrils at its base; his mouth of an enormous width, with teeth as black as ink.  As soon as the guards stopped, he slipped down from between them on his knees, and throwing forward his body, kow-tow-ed with his head in the dust nine times, and then remained with his face down on the floor.

“Let the dog with two tails rise,” said the pacha.

This order not being immediately obeyed by the servile Chinaman, each of the two guards who stood by him seized one of the plaited tails of hair, which were nearly an ell in length, and pulled up his head from the floor.  The Chinaman then remained cross-legged, with his eyes humbly fixed upon the ground.

“Who art thou, dog?” said the pacha, pleased with the man’s humility.

“I am of Kathay and your vilest slave,” replied the man, in good Turkish.  “In my own country I was a poet.  Destiny hath brought me here, and I now work in the gardens of the palace.”

“If you are a poet, you can tell me many a story.”

“Your slave has told thousands in his lifetime, such hath been my fate.”

“Talking about fate,” said Mustapha, “can you tell his highness a story, in which destiny has been foretold and hath been accomplished?  If so, begin.”

“There is a story of my own country, O vizier! in which destiny was foretold, and was most unhappily accomplished.”

“You may proceed,” said Mustapha, at a sign from the pacha.

The Chinaman thrust his hand into the breast of his blue cotton shirt, and pulled out a sort of instrument made from the shell of a tortoise, with three or four strings stretched across, and in a low, monotonous tone, something between a chant and a whine, not altogether unmusical, he commenced his story.  But first he struck his instrument, and ran over a short prelude, which may be imagined by a series of false notes, running as follows: ­

Ti-tum, titum, tilly-lilly, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, titum, tilly-lilly, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

As he proceeded in his story, whenever he was out of breath, he stopped, and struck a few notes of his barbarous music.

THE WONDROUS TALE OF HAN.

Who was more impassioned in his nature, who was more formed for love, than the great Han Koong Shew, known in the celestial archives as the sublime Youantee, brother of the sun and moon? ­whose court was so superb ­whose armies were so innumerable ­whose territories were so vast ­bounded as they were by the four seas, which bound the whole universe? yet was he bound by destiny to be unhappy, and thus do I commence the wondrous Tale of Han ­the sorrows of the magnificent Youantee.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly ­

Yes, he felt that some one thing was wanting.  All his power, his wealth, his dignity, filled not his soul with pleasure.  He turned from the writings of the great Fo ­he closed the book.  Alas! he sighed for a second self to whom he might point out ­“All this is mine.”  His heart yearned for a fair damsel ­a maid of beauty ­to whose beauty he might bow.  He, to whom the world was prostrate, the universe were slaves, longed for an amorous captivity, and sighed for chains.  But where was the maiden to be found, worthy to place fetters upon the brother of the sun and moon ­the magnificent master of the universe?  Where was she to be found?

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Yes, there was one, and but one, worthy to be his mate, worthy to be the queen of a land of eternal spring, filled with trees, whose stems were of gold, branches of silver, leaves of emerald, and whose fruits were the fragrant apples of immortality.  And where was this moon, fit bride unto the sun?  Was she not plunged in grief ­hidden in a well of her own tears ­even in the gardens of joy?  Those eyes which should have sunned a court of princes, were dimmed with eternal sorrow.  And who was the cause of this eclipse, but the miscreant, gold-loving minister, Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly.

The mandarins were summoned by the great Youantee, the court in its splendour bowed down their heads into the dust of delight as they listened to the miracle of his eloquence.  “Hear me, ye first chop mandarins, peers, lords, and princes of the empire.  Listen to the words of Youantee.  Hath not each bird that skims the air, its partner in the nest?  Hath not each beast its mate?  Have not you all eyes which beam but upon you alone?  Am I then so unfortunately great, or so greatly unfortunate, that I may not be permitted to descend to love?  Even the brother of the sun and moon cannot, during his career on earth, exist alone.  Seek, then, through the universe, a maiden for thy lord, that like my brother, the sun, who sinks each night into the bosom of the ocean, I too may repose upon the bosom of my mate.  Seek, I say, search each corner of the world, that its treasures may be poured forth at our golden feet, and one gem be selected for our especial wear.  But first, O wise men and astrologers, summon ye the planets and stars of destiny, that they may ascertain whether, by this conjunction, aught of evil be threatened to our celestial person, or to our boundless empire.”

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Where is the star which leaps not in his course with delight, to obey the wishes of the brother of the sun and moon?  Where was the planet that rejoiced not to assist so near a relative?  Yes, they all hearkened, bowing down to the astrolabes of the astrologers, like generous steeds, who knelt to receive their riders; yet, when they all did meet to throw light upon the required page of destiny, was not their brightness dimmed when they perceived, as they read it, that it was full of tears, and that joy floated but as a bubble?  The wise men sighed as the decree of fate was handed down to them, and with their faces to the earth, thus did they impart the contents of the revealed page to the magnificent Youantee.

“The brother of the sun and moon would wed.  Beauty shall be laid at the golden feet, but the pearl beyond price will be found and lost.  There will be joy and there will be sorrow.  Joy in life, sorrow both in life and death; for a black dragon, foe to the celestial empire, threatens like an overhanging cloud.  More the stars dare not reveal.”

Ti-tum, till-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Here the pacha looked at Mustapha and nodded his head in approbation, as much as to say, “Now we are coming to the point.”  Mustapha bowed, and the Chinese poet continued.

The golden eyes of the great Youantee were filled with silver tears when the page of destiny was made known; but the sun of hope rose, and bore away the sacred dew to heaven.  Then called he the minister, ever to be disgraced in story, Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow, and the emperor desired him to make a progress through the universe, his dominions, to find out the most beautiful maidens, to be brought to the celestial feet, at the coming feast of Lanthorns.  But before they could be permitted to shoot up the rays of love through the mist of glory which surrounded the imperial throne ­before their charms were to make the attempt upon the heart of magnanimity, it was necessary, that all their portraits should be submitted to the great Youantee, in the Hall of Delight.  That is to say, out of the twenty thousand virgins whose images were to be impressed upon the ivory, one hundred only, selected by a committee of taste, composed of the first class mandarins and princes, were to be honoured by the beam of the celestial eye.

The avaricious, gold-seeking, Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow had performed his task; wealth poured into his coffers from the ambitious parents, who longed to boast of an alliance with the brother of the sun and moon, and many were the ill-favoured whose portraits were dismissed by the committee of taste, with surprise at the minister’s ideas of beauty.

Now there was a certain mandarin, whose daughter had long been extolled through the province of Kartou, as a miracle of beauty, and her father, Whanghang, brought her in a litter to the minister Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow.  He felt that her charms were piercing as an arrow, and that he had found a fit mate for the brother of the sun and moon; but his avarice demanded a sum which the father would not pay.  Refuse to send her portrait he dare not; it was therefore ordered to be taken, as well as the others, and Whanghang considered himself as the father-in-law of the celestial Youantee.  The young painter who was employed finished his task, then laid down his pencil, and died with grief and love of such perfection, which he never could hope to obtain.  The picture was sent to the vile minister, who reserved it for himself, and wrote the name of this pearl beyond price, under that of another, unworthy to unloose her zone as her handmaiden.  The committee of taste did, however, select that picture among the hundred to be placed in the Hall of Delight, not because the picture was beautiful, but because the fame of her beauty had reached the court, and they thought it right that the emperor should see the picture.  The virgins whose pictures were thus selected, were all ordered to repair to the imperial palace, and the magnificent Youantee entered the Hall of Delight, which was illumined with ten thousand lanthorns, and cast his eyes over the portraits of the hundred beauties, but not one feature touched his heart, he turned away in disgust at the degenerate countenances of the age, “Is this all,” exclaimed he, “that the world can lay at the feet of its lord?” And the committee of taste prostrated themselves when they beheld his indignation.  “And this,” exclaimed he, pointing to the supposed portrait of the daughter of Whanghang, “who is this presumptuous one who hath dared to disgrace with her features the Hall of Delight?”

“That, O emperor,” said the wily Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow, “is the far-famed beauty Chaoukeun, whose insolent father dared to say, that if it was not sent, he would lay his complaint at the celestial feet.  In her province the fame of her beauty was great, and I did not like to be accused of partiality, so it has been placed before the imperial eye.”

“First, then,” exclaimed the emperor, “let it be proclaimed that the whole province of Kartou is peopled by fools, and levy upon it a fine of one hundred thousand ounces of gold, for its want of taste; and next, let this vain one be committed to perpetual seclusion in the eastern tower of the imperial palace.  Let the other maidens be sent to their parents, for as yet there is not found a fit bride for the brother of the sun and moon.”

The imperial mandates were obeyed; and thus was the first part of the prophecy fulfilled, that “the pearl beyond price would be found and lost.”

Ti-tum, till-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Yes, she was lost, for the resplendent Chaoukeun was shut up to waste away her peerless beauty in sorrow and in solitude.  One small terrace-walk was the only spot permitted her on which to enjoy the breezes of heaven.  Night was looking down in loveliness, with her countless eyes, upon the injustice and cruelty of men, when the magnificent Youantee, who had little imagined that the brother of the sun and moon would be doomed to swallow the bitter pillau of disappointment, as had been latterly his custom, quitted the palace to walk in the gardens and commune with his own thoughts, unattended.  And it pleased destiny, that the pearl beyond price, the neglected Chaoukeun also was induced, by the beauty and stillness of the night, to press the shell sand which covered the terrace-walk, with her diminutive feet, so diminutive, that she almost tottered in her gait.  The tear trembled in her eye as she thought of her own happy home, and bitterly did she bewail that beauty, which, instead of raising her to a throne, had by malice and avarice condemned her to perpetual solitude.  She looked upwards at the starry heaven, but felt no communion with its loveliness.  She surveyed the garden of sweets from the terrace, but all appeared to be desolate.  Of late, her only companions had been her tears and her lute, whose notes were as plaintive as her own.

“O my mother!” exclaimed she; “beloved, but too ambitious mother! but for one little hour to lay this head upon your bosom!  Fatal hath been the dream you rejoiced in at my nativity, in which the moon shone out so brilliantly, and then descended into the earth at your feet.  I have shone but a little, little time, and now am I buried, as it were, in the earth, at my joyous age.  Immured in this solitary tower, my hopes destroyed ­my portrait cannot have been seen ­and now I am lost for ever.  Thou lute, sole companion of my woes, let us join our voices of complaint.  Let us fancy that the flowers are listening to our grief, and that the dews upon the half-closed petals are tears of pity for my misfortunes.”  And Chaoukeun struck her lute, and thus poured out her lament: 

  “O tell me, thou all-glorious sun,
    Were there no earth to drink thy light,
  Would not, in vain, thy course be run,
    Thy reign be o’er a realm of night?

  “Thus charms were born to be enthroned
    In hearts, and youth to be caress’d;
  And beauty is not, if not own’d,
    At least by one adoring breast.”

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

The musical notes of the peerless Chaoukeun were not thrown away only upon flowers deaf and dumb, they vibrated in the ears of the magnificent Youantee, who had sat down on the back of an enormous metal dragon, which had been placed in the walk under the terrace.  The emperor listened with surprise at her soliloquy, with admiration at her enchanting song.  For some minutes he remained in a profound reverie, and then rising from the dragon, he walked towards the gate of the tower, and clapped his hands.  The eunuch made his appearance.  “Keeper of the Yellow Tower,” said the emperor, “but now I heard the sounds of a lute.”

“Even so, O Sustenance of the world,” responded the slave.

“Was it not rather an angel than a mortal, whose mellifluous notes accompanied the instrument?” said the magnificent Youantee.

“Certainly is she blessed beyond mortality, since her melody has found favour in the celestial ears,” replied the black keeper of the Yellow Tower.

“Go then, and quickly summon all our highest officers of state, to lay their robes upon the ground, that she may pass over them to our presence at the dragon below the terrace.”

The magnificent Youantee, brother of the sun and moon, returned to his former seat, filled with pleasing anticipations, while the eunuch hastened to obey the celestial commands.  The mandarins of the first class hastened to obey the orders of Youantee; their furred and velvet cloaks, rich in gold and silver ornaments, were spread from the tower to the dragon at the terrace, forming a path rich and beautiful as the milky way in the heavens.  The pearl beyond price, the peerless Chaonkeun, like the moon in her splendour, passed over it into the presence of the great Youantee.

“Immortal Fo,” exclaimed the emperor, as the attendants raised their lanterns, so as to throw light upon her countenance, “by what black mischance have such charms been hidden from our sight?”

Then did the peerless Chaoukeun narrate, in few words, the treachery and avarice of Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow.

“Hasten, O mandarins, let the scissors of disgrace cut off the two tails of this wretch, and then let the sword of justice sever off his head.”

But the rumour of his sentence flew on the wind to Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow; and before the executioner could arrive, he had mounted a horse fleeter than the wind, and with the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun in his vest, had left even rumour far behind.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

And to whom did the miscreant minister fly, to hide his devoted head?  He flew to the wild nations of the north, the riders of wild horses, with sharp scimitars and long lances.  For three days and three nights did the hoofs of his fiery steed strike fire upon the flints, which he spurned in his impetuous course, and then, as an immortal poet hath already sung, “he bowed his head and died.”  With the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun in his bosom, and his mandarin garments raised up under each arm, the miscreant Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow reached the presence of the Great Khan.  “O Khan of Tartary,” said he, “may thy sword be ever keen, thy lance unerring, and thy courser swift.  I am thy slave.  O thou who commandest a hundred thousand warriors, hath thy slave permission to address thee?”

“Speak, and be d ­d,” replied the warrior chief, of few words, whose teeth were busy with some pounds of horse-flesh.

“Thou knowest, O Khan, that it hath been the custom for ages, that the celestial empire should provide for thee a fair damsel for thy nuptial bed, and that this hath been the price paid by the celestial court, to prevent the ravages of thy insatiate warriors.  O Khan, there is a maid, whose lovely features I now have with me, most worthy to be raised up to thy nuptial couch.”  And the miscreant laid at the feet of the Great Khan the portrait of the peerless Chaoukeun.

The chief finished his repast, and then with his lance turned over the image of the pearl beyond all price.  He looked at it, then passed it to those around him.  The savage warriors stared at the lovely portrait, and admired it not ­yet did they long for war.  “Tell me, O chiefs,” said the Great Khan, “is that baby-face you look at worth contending for?”

And, with one voice, the chiefs replied that she was worthy to share the nuptial couch of the Great Khan.

“Be it so,” replied he, “I am no judge of beauty.  Let the encampment be broken up ­this evening we move southwards.”  And the Tartar chief entered the northern provinces of the celestial empire, with his hundred thousand warriors, destroying all with fire and sword, proving his sincere wish to unite himself to the Chinese nation by the indiscriminate slaughter of man, woman, and child; and his ardent love for the peerless Chaoukeun, by making a nuptial torch of every town and village.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

But we must return to the celestial court, and astonish the world with the wonderful events which there took place.  The astrologers and wise men had consulted the heavens, and had ascertained that on the thirty-third minute after the thirteenth hour, the marriage procession must set out, or the consummation would not be prosperous.  Who can describe the pomp and glory of the spectacle, or give an adequate idea of its splendour?  Alas! it would not be possible, even if it were attempted by ten thousand poets, each with ten thousand tongues of silver, singing for ten thousand years.  Such, however, was the order of the procession.

First walked ten thousand officers of justice, with long bamboos, striking right and left to clear the way, to the cadence of soft music, blending with the plaintive cries of those who limped away and rubbed their shins.

Then marching, ten abreast, one hundred thousand lanthorns to assist the sun, partially eclipsed by the splendour of the procession.

Next appeared, slowly keeping time to a dead march, five thousand decapitated criminals, each carrying his own head by its long tail of hair.

“Staffir Allah!  What is that but a lie?” exclaimed the pacha.  “Did you hear what the dog has dared to breathe into our ears, Mustapha?”

“Mighty pacha,” replied the Chinaman, with humility, “if your wisdom pronounces it to be a lie ­a lie it most certainly must be; still it is not the lie of your slave, who but repeats the story as handed down by the immortal eastern poet.”

“Nevertheless, there appears to be a trifling mistake,” observed Mustapha.  “Is the procession to proceed, O pacha?”

“Yes, yes; but by the Prophet, let the dog tremble if again he presumes to laugh at our beards.”

After the decapitated criminals, which your highness objects to, came in procession those criminals with their heads on, who were to suffer for their offences on this day of universal happiness.

First came two thousand robbers, sentenced to be hung up by their heels, emblematic of their wish to turn everything upside down ­so to remain until they were pecked to death by the crows, or torn to pieces by the vultures.

The banner of innovation.

One of the robber chiefs, ordered to be choked with an abacus, which was suspended round his neck.

Another of the robber chiefs.  This man, although a follower of the court, and sunned in the celestial presence, had dared to utter vile falsehoods against the celestial dynasty.  He was sentenced to have his skin peeled off, and to eat his own words, until he died from the virulent poison which they contained.

The most important of all the criminals next appeared, who being great in favour at court, and appointed to the high office of physician to the celestial conscience, had been discovered in the base attempt of drugging it with opium; he had also committed several other enormities, such as being intoxicated in his mandarin robes, and throwing mud at the first chief mandarin; also of throwing aside his robes, mingling with the lower classes, and associating with mountebanks, jugglers, and tight-rope dancers.  His enormities were written on a long scroll suspended round his neck.  His sentence was the torture of disappointment and envy, previous to a condign political death.

After him came a disgraced yellow mandarin, who had been a great enemy of the criminal who preceded him.  He was seated upon a throne of jet, and his arms supported in derision by two prize-fighters.  His crime was playing at pitch and toss with the lower classes.  His punishment was merely exposure.

Such were the criminals who were to suffer upon this day of universal happiness and delight.

Then came fifty thousand archers of the blue dragon battalion, carrying in their hands chowries of horses’ tails to clear away the blue-bottle flies.

Next appeared ten thousand virgins, all modest, lovely, and in light drapery, singing hymns in praise of Ganesa on the Rat, the god of pure Love;

Attended by ten thousand youths, who tickled the said ten thousand virgins, singing hymns in praise of the upright Fo.

Fifty thousand archers of the green dragon battalion, each carrying a long peacock’s feather in his right hand, to ascertain how the wind blew.

Five hundred physicians attending the celestial court, each carrying a silver box with golden pills.

The head physician to the celestial wits, and always in attendance upon a crisis.  He carried in his right hand a bladder-full of peas at the end of a wand, to recall his majesty’s wits when they wandered; and was followed by

Fifty thousand fools marching five abreast in union,

And fifty thousand rogues, marching off with everything they could lay their hands upon.

Then came a notorious faquir and mendicant, who was leader of a celebrated sect.  He wore but one tail instead of the two usually worn by our nation, but that tail was of forty feet.  He was followed by numerous devotees, who threw their worldly goods at his feet, and in return he presented them with writings and harangues, which he declared were infallible in all diseases.

Ten thousand young married women, each hushing an infant to repose upon the left breast to the sound of clarions and trumpets, emblematical of the peaceful and quiet state of matrimony.

The banner of impudence.

Five thousand political mountebanks, contradicting each other, and exerting themselves for the amusement of the people, who, however, suffered rather severely from their mad tricks.

The second in command, explaining their system in an unknown tongue.

The emperor’s juggler, who astonished the whole empire by his extraordinary feats, and the rapidity with which he relieved them of all the money in their pockets.

The banner of Love.

The celestial secretary, with goose-wings on his shoulders, goose-quills in each hand, looking very much like a goose mounted on a mule, gaily caparisoned in colours quadripartite, and covered with jingling brass bells.

Five thousand old women, singing the praises of the said secretary and taking snuff to the flourish of hautboys.

The prosperity of the celestial empire, carried by the court fool, in a basket beautifully carved out of a wild cherry-stone; and guarded by

Fifty thousand archers of the red dragon battalion, picking their teeth to soft music.

Ten thousand poets, each singing at the same time, and to a different tune, his ode upon this joyful occasion.

The immortal poet of the age, attired in velvet to his feet, and superbly ornamented with rings and chains of gold and precious stones.  He carried his silver harp in his hand, and was mounted on a beautiful white jackass with his face towards the tail, that he might behold and be inspired by the charms of the peerless Chaoukeun, the pearl beyond all price.

Then came the magnificent Youantee, and the peerless Chaoukeun, seated in the massive car of gossamer richly studded with the eyes of live humming birds, drawn by twelve beautiful blue loadstars, presented by the heavenly bodies to the brother of the sun and moon.

Twenty thousand young men, beautiful as angels, clad in the skins of the black fox, and playing upon ivory jews’-harps, all mounted upon coal-black steeds.

Twenty thousand niggers, ugly as devils, clad in the skins of the white polar bear, and sounding mellifluous cat-calls, all mounted upon pure white Arabian horses.

All the first-class mandarins of the celestial empire, turning up their eyes to heaven, and wishing that the procession was over.

All the second-class mandarins of the celestial empire, choked with dust, and wishing the procession at the devil.

Twenty millions of the people, extolling the liberality of the great emperor, and crying out for bread.

Ten millions of women, who had lost their children in the crowd, and were crying out bitterly in their search.

Ten millions of children who had lost their mothers in the crowd, and were crying out bitterly till they found them.

The remainder of the inhabitants of the celestial empire.

Such was the grand and pompous marriage procession, which employed the whole population, so that there were no spectators except three blind old women, who were so overcome with delight that, when it had passed, they bowed their heads and died.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

The procession arrived at the palace, and the pearl of price was now his bride, and the heart of Youantee was oppressed with love.  Upon a jewelled throne they sat, side by side; but what was the blaze of the diamonds, compared to one glance from her lightning eye?  What were the bright red rubies, compared to her parted coral lips ­or the whiteness of the pearls, when she smiled, and displayed her teeth?  Her arched eyebrows were more beautifully pencilled than the rainbow; the blush upon her cheek turned pale with envy every rose in the celestial gardens; and in compassion to the court, many of whom were already blind, by rashly lifting up their eyes to behold her charms, an edict had been promulgated, by which it was permitted to the mandarins and princes attending the court, to wear green spectacles to save their eyes.  The magnificent Youantee was consumed with love as with a raging fever, and the physicians of the emperor were alarmed for his celestial health; by their advice, Chaoukeun consented only to receive him in a darkened chamber.  All was joy.  The empire rang with the praises of the pearl beyond all price.  The gaols were ordered to be levelled to the ground ­criminals to be pardoned ­the sword of justice to remain in its scabbard ­the bastinado to be discontinued.  Even the odious lanthorn-tax was taken off, in honour of the peerless Chaoukeun, whose praises were celebrated by all the poets of the country, until they were too hoarse to sing, and the people too tired to listen to them.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

“I’m sure I don’t wonder at their being tired,” observed the pacha, yawning, “if they were like you.”

“God is great,” replied Mustapha, with another yawn.  “Shall he proceed?”

“Yes, let him go on; wake me when the story is ended,” replied the pacha, laying down his pipe.

Alas! how soon was all this delirium of happiness to be overthrown:  how soon was the prophecy to be fulfilled, that there should be not only joy in life, but also sorrow!  The magnificent Youantee was roused from his dream of delight by courier after courier coming in, and laying at the celestial feet tidings of the advance of the hundred thousand warriors.  A solemn council was summoned, and the imperial edict was passed, that the barbarians of the north should be driven back to their lands of eternal frost and snow.  The imperial armies departed from the capital, each individual composing its hundreds of thousands, vowing by his two tails that he would eat all that he killed.  This bloody vow was accomplished, for they killed none; they returned discomfited, without their bows, or arrows, or their swords, fleeing before the rage of the Tartar chief.  Then rose the great Youantee in wrath, and issued another edict that the barbarians should be driven even into the sea which bounds the empire of the world.  And the armies were again sent forth, but again they returned discomfited, saying, “How can we, who eat rice with chopsticks, combat with barbarians, who not only ride on horses, but eat them too?” The celestial edict was not attended to by the Tartars, for they were barbarians, and knew no better; and they continued to advance until within one day’s progress of the celestial capital; and the brother of the sun and moon, the magnificent Youantee, was forced to submit to the disgrace of receiving an envoy from the barbarians, who thus spoke, in sugared words: ­

“The great khan of Tartary greets the magnificent Youantee; he has slaughtered some millions of his subjects, because they were traitors, and would not defend the celestial throne.  He has burnt some thousands of his towns, that the great Youantee may order them to be rebuilt in greater beauty.  All this has he done with much trouble and fatigue, to prove his regard to the magnificent Youantee.  All that he asks in return is, that he may receive as his bride the peerless Chaoukeun, the pearl beyond all price.”

The great Youantee spoke from his celestial throne ­“Return my thanks to the great khan your master, for his considerate conduct, and tell him, that he well deserves a bride from our celestial empire, but the pearl beyond all price is wedded to the brother of the sun and moon.  Any other maiden in our empire shall be sent to him with gifts worthy to be offered by the great Youantee, and worthy to be accepted by the great khan of Tartary.  Let it be an edict.”

But the Tartar replied, “O great monarch, the great khan my master does not require an edict, but the peerless Chaoukeun.  If I return without her, he enters the celestial city, and spares not man, or woman, or child.”  Then fell at the celestial feet all the princes and mandarins of every class, performing solemnly the great kow tow, and the chief minister of state spoke thus: ­“Lord of the universe, brother of the sun and moon, who governs the world with thine edicts, whose armies are invincible, and numerous as the sands upon the shores of the four seas, listen to thy faithful slaves.  Surrender up to this barbarian the pearl beyond all price, so shall we all live to humble ourselves before thee.”  And all the princes and mandarins cried out with one voice, “Surrender up the pearl beyond all price.”  And all the brave generals drew their swords, and waved them in the air, crying out, “Surrender up to this barbarian the pearl beyond all price.”  And all the army and all the people joined in the request.

Then rose up Youantee in great wrath, and ordered that the prime minister, and all the mandarins, and the princes, and all the generals, and all the army, and all the people, should be disgraced and decapitated forthwith.  “Let it be an edict.”  But as there was no one left to put the great Youantee’s edict into force, it was not obeyed.  And the brother of the sun and moon perceived that he was in the minority; concealing therefore his bile, he graciously ordered refreshments for the envoy, saying, “Let the dog be fed,” and retired to the apartment of the peerless Chaoukeun.

Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

Now the beauteous empress had listened to all that had taken place in the great hall of audience, and she threw herself at the celestial feet, saying, “Let me be sacrificed ­it is my destiny.  Send your slave to the great khan to do with me as he pleases ­I am all submission.  They say he is a handsome man, and of great size and strength.  It is my destiny.”

Then did the great Youantee shed bitter tears at his bitter fate; but he knew it was his destiny ­and O destiny, who can resist thee?  He wiped his celestial eyes, and leading forth the peerless Chaoukeun, put her in the hands of the barbarian envoy, saying, “I send your master the pearl beyond all price.  I have worn her for some time, but still she is as good as new.  And now let your master the great khan return, with his hundred thousand warriors, to the confines of our territories, as it was agreed.  Thou hearest.  It is an edict.”

“It is enough that my great master hath given his word, and the great Youantee hath given the pearl beyond all price.  There needs not an edict,” replied the envoy, departing with the peerless Chaoukeun.  Thus was the magnificent Youantee left without a bride.

Now when the envoy had brought the peerless Chaoukeun in a close litter to the tent of the great khan, he forthwith commanded his army to return.  Much to the mortification of the peerless damsel, he did not express any curiosity to behold her, but commenced a rapid retreat, and, in a few days, arrived at the confines of the celestial territory, which was separated from the Tartar dominions by an impetuous river.  As soon as he had forded the river, he encamped on the other side, and sat down with his generals to a sumptuous feast of horseflesh and quass.  When the liquor had mounted into his brain, he desired that the litter of the pearl beyond all price should be brought nigh to his tent, that he might send for her, if so inclined.  And the peerless Chaoukeun peeped out of the litter, and beheld the great khan as he caroused; and when she beheld his hairy form, his gleaming eyes, his pug-nose, and his tremendously wide mouth ­when she perceived that he had the form and features of a ghoul, or evil spirit, she wrung her hands, and wept bitterly, and all her love returned for the magnificent Youantee.

Now the great khan was drunk with quass, and he ordered the pearl beyond all price to be brought to him, and she replied trembling, saying, “Tell your lord that I am not fit to appear in his sublime presence until I have washed myself in the river.”  And those who had charge of her took the message to the great khan, who replied, “Let her wash, since she is so dirty.”

Then was the litter of the peerless Chaoukeun taken down to the banks of the river, and she stood upon a rock which overhung the black waters.  “How callest thou this river?” said she to her attendants.

And they replied, “This river, O princess, divides the territory of Tartary from China, and it is called the river of the Black Dragon.”

“Then is the prophecy fulfilled,” cried the pearl beyond price.  “It is my destiny; and destiny, who shall resist?”

She raised up her arms to heaven, and uttering a loud shriek at her unhappy fate, she plunged headlong into the boiling waters, and disappeared for ever.

Thus was the prophecy fulfilled.  The brother of the sun and moon had wed ­beauty had been laid at the golden feet ­the pearl beyond price had been found and lost.  There had been joy and there had been sorrow in life ­and sorrow in death.  The Black Dragon had proved the foe to the celestial empire, for it had swallowed up the pearl beyond all price.

Ti-tum, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.

The twang of the rude instrument awoke the pacha, who had been fast asleep for some time.

“Is it finished, Mustapha?” said he, rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, your highness; and the destiny foretold was truly accomplished.”

“Bismillah! but I’m glad of it.  Before he had whined ten minutes, I foretold that I should go to sleep.  My destiny has also been accomplished.”

“Will your highness foretell the destiny of this dog with two tails?”

“Two tails! that reminds me that we have only had one out of him as yet.  Let’s have him again to-morrow, and have another.  At all events, we shall have a good nap.  God is great.”