The sun set, the court rose, and returned in the same pomp to the
serail. The twilight died away, a beacon fired on a distant eminence
announced the entrance of Alroy and Schirene into the nuptial chamber,
and suddenly, as by magic, the mighty city, every mosque, and minaret,
and tower, and terrace, and the universal plain, and the numberless
pavilions, and the immense circus, and the vast and winding river,
blazed with light. From every spot a lamp, a torch, a lantern, tinted
with every hue, burst forth; enormous cressets of silver radiancy beamed
on the top of each chartak, and huge bonfires of ruddy flame started up
along the whole horizon.
For seven days and seven nights this unparalleled scene of rejoicing,
though ever various, never ceased. Long, long was remembered the bridal
feast of the Hebrew prince and the caliph's daughter; long, long did the
peasantry on the plains of Tigris sit down by the side of that starry
river, and tell the wondrous tale to their marvelling posterity.
Now what a glorious man was David Alroy, lord of the mightiest empire
in the world, and wedded to the most beautiful princess, surrounded by
a prosperous and obedient people, guarded by invincible armies, one on
whom Earth showered all its fortune, and Heaven all its favour; and all
by the power of his own genius!
CHAPTER IX.
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