“What!” exclaimed Nouronihar; “will the time come when I shall snatch my hand from thine?”

“Ah,” said Vathek; “and shall my eyes ever cease to drink from thine long draughts of enjoyment!  Shall the moments of our reciprocal ecstasies be reflected on with horror!  It was not thou that broughtest me hither:  the principles by which Carathis perverted my youth have been the sole cause of my perdition!” Having given vent to these painful expressions, he called to an Afrit, who was stirring up one of the braziers, and bade him fetch the Princess Carathis from the palace of Samarah.

After issuing these orders, the Caliph and Nouronihar continued walking amidst the silent crowd, till they heard voices at the end of the gallery.  Presuming them to proceed from some unhappy beings who, like themselves, were awaiting their final doom, they followed the sound, and found it to come from a small square chamber, where they discovered sitting on sofas five young men of goodly figure, and a lovely female, who were all holding a melancholy conversation by the glimmering of a lonely lamp; each had a gloomy and forlorn air, and two of them were embracing each other with great tenderness.  On seeing the Caliph and the daughter of Fakreddin enter, they arose, saluted and gave them place; then he who appeared the most considerable of the group addressed himself thus to Vathek: 

“Strangers!—­who doubtless are in the same state of suspense with ourselves, as you do not yet bear your hand on your heart,—­if you are come hither to pass the interval allotted previous to the infliction of our common punishment, condescend to relate the adventures that have brought you to this fatal place, and we in return will acquaint you with ours, which deserve but too well to be heard.  We will trace back our crimes to their source, though we are not permitted to repent; this is the only employment suited to wretches like us!”

The Caliph and Nouronihar assented to the proposal, and Vathek began, not without tears and lamentations, a sincere recital of every circumstance that had passed.  When the afflicting narrative was closed, the young man entered on his own.  Each person proceeded in order, and when the fourth prince had reached the midst of his adventures, a sudden noise interrupted him, which caused the vault to tremble and to open.

Immediately a cloud descended, which, gradually dissipating, discovered Carathis on the back of an Afrit, who grievously complained of his burden.  She, instantly springing to the ground, advanced towards her son and said:—­

“What dost thou here in this little square chamber?  As the Dives are become subject to thy beck, I expected to have found thee on the throne of the pre-Adamite Kings.”

“Execrable woman!” answered the Caliph; “cursed be the day thou gavest me birth!  Go, follow this Afrit, let him conduct thee to the hall of the Prophet Soliman; there thou wilt learn to what these palaces are destined, and how much I ought to abhor the impious knowledge thou hast taught me.”