And know no more
Of sickness, than that amber is its work,
And pearls, when it resides in trees or oysters.
My word, they both are here. And here are birds,
Quite lifelike, woven into gleaming silk,
If it be worth thy while to look at them.
Gülistane.
This is too much.
Shalnass.
Aye, for a pigeon-house,
But scarcely for a chamber large enough
To hold such rose-perfume as yonder vases
Exhale, and yet not fill the air to stifling.
Gülistane.
O see, what wondrous vases!
Shalnass.
This is onyx,
And that one Chrysophrase, beneath thy notice.
Impenetrable they are called, but odors
Can pass their walls as they were rotten wood.
Gülistane.
How thank thee?
[Shalnassar does not understand.]
Gülistane.
How, I say, am I to thank thee?
Shalnass.
By squandering all this:
This desk of sandal-wood and inlaid pearl
Use stead of withered twigs on chilly nights
To warm thy bath: watch how the flames will sparkle,
With sweet perfume!
[A dog is heard to give tongue, then several.]