Convened the chiefs and warriors of the land,
And soon the banquet social glee restored,
And china wine cups glittered on the board;
And cheerful song, and music’s matchless power,
And sparkling wine beguiled the festive hour.”
When the royal banquet was over a magnificent couch was prepared for the great chieftain, and in the perfumed bed the weary traveler slept soundly. One watch of the night had already passed when Rustem was awakened by a light in his room, and there before his astonished eyes stood the peerless daughter of the Tartar king in all her wondrous beauty. She stood with frightened look, the rich color flushing her olive cheeks, her dark eyes beaming beneath the splendid lashes, and her mouth, flower-soft and sensitive, seemed moulded for an expectant kiss. Her black ringlets were snares[[256]] for a warrior’s heart. Her graceful hands were perfectly formed and stained with henna upon the dainty palms. But she was fully robed, and she, the daughter of the king, had not come alone into the room of this stranger guest—her faithful maid stood beside her, and bore the taper from which a soft radiance filled all the room.
The astonished warrior asked what stranger this, and why she had broken upon his rest. “What is thy name?” he said. “Fair vision, speak!” Then from the mouth of rose and pearl there fell the accents of sweetest music:
“No curious eye has yet these features seen,
My voice unheard beyond the sacred screen.
But often have I listened with amaze