"Come, Hajji," said she, "banish all fear; no one is here but Zeenab, and if our luck is good, we may have the whole day to ourselves. I have barred all the doors; and should anyone come, you will have time to escape before I open them: but there is no fear of that; all the women are gone to the funeral."

I learnt from my fair friend that she was the daughter of a Kurdish chief, who, with his whole family, including his flocks and herds, had been made prisoner when she was quite a child; and that, from circumstances which she promised to relate to me, she had fallen into the hands of the doctor, whose slave she was now.

At this moment she let her veil fall, as if by chance, and I had time to look again upon her face, which was even more beautiful than I had imagined. Her eyes were large and peculiarly black, and fringed by long lashes, which, aided by the collyrium with which they were tinged, formed a sort of ambuscade, from which she leveled her shafts. Her eyebrows were finely arched, and natured had brought them together over her nose, in so strong a line, that there was no need of art to join them together. Her nose was quiline, her mouth small, and full of sweet expression; and in the centre of her chin was a dimple which she kept carefully marked with a blue puncture.

"A salary indeed!" exclaimed the doctor. "I never give salaries. My servants get what they can from my patients, and you may do the same; they eat the remains of my dinner, and they receive a coat at the festival of the No Ruz -- what can they want more?"

It seems that the king gave him the history of his complaints -- and of his debility, of his old asthma, and his imperfect digestion, but talked in raptures of the wretch's sagacity and penetration: for merely looking at the tongue and feeling the pulse before the infidel was told what was the state of the case, he asked whether his majesty did not us the hot-baths very frequently; whether, when he smoked, he did not immediately bring on a fit of coughing; and whether, in his food, he was not particularly addicted to pickles, sweatmeats, and rice swimming in butter?

I accordingly stepped into one of the old clothes' shops in the bazaar, and hired a cloak for myself, such as the scribes wear; and then substituting a roll of paper in my girdle instead of a dagger, I flattered myself that I might pass for something more than a common servant.

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