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,