Tales of Wonder | Page 2

shade of annoyance crossed the Sultan's face, a look of thunder that you had scarcely
seen, but in those lands they watched his visage well, and though his spirit was
wandering far away and his eyes were bleared with hasheesh yet that storyteller there and
then perceived the look that was death, and sent his spirit back at once to London as a
man runs into his house when the thunder comes.
"And therefore," he continued, "in the desiderate city, in London, all their camels are pure
white. Remarkable is the swiftness of their horses, that draw their chariots that are of
ivory along those sandy ways and that are of surpassing lightness, they have little bells of
silver upon their horses' heads. O Friend of God, if you perceived their merchants! The

glory of their dresses in the noonday! They are no less gorgeous than those butterflies
that float about their streets. They have overcloaks of green and vestments of azure, huge
purple flowers blaze on their overcloaks, the work of cunning needles, the centres of the
flowers are of gold and the petals of purple. All their hats are black--" ("No, no," said the
Sultan)--"but irises are set about the brims, and green plumes float above the crowns of
them.
"They have a river that is named the Thames, on it their ships go up with violet sails
bringing incense for the braziers that perfume the streets, new songs exchanged for gold
with alien tribes, raw silver for the statues of their heroes, gold to make balconies where
the women sit, great sapphires to reward their poets with, the secrets of old cities and
strange lands, the earning of the dwellers in far isles, emeralds, diamonds, and the hoards
of the sea. And whenever a ship comes into port and furls its violet sails and the news
spreads through London that she has come, then all the merchants go down to the river to
barter, and all day long the chariots whirl through the streets, and the sound of their going
is a mighty roar all day until evening, their roar is even like--"
"Not so," said the Sultan.
"Truth is not hidden from the Friend of God," replied the hasheesh-eater, "I have erred
being drunken with the hasheesh, for in the desiderate city, even in London, so thick upon
the ways is the white sea-sand with which the city glimmers that no sound comes from
the path of the charioteers, but they go softly like a light sea-wind." ("It is well," said the
Sultan.) "They go softly down to the port where the vessels are, and the merchandise in
from the sea, amongst the wonders that the sailors show, on land by the high ships, and
softly they go though swiftly at evening back to their homes.
"O would that the Munificent, the Illustrious, the Friend of God, had even seen these
things, had seen the jewellers with their empty baskets, bargaining there by the ships,
when the barrels of emeralds came up from the hold. Or would that he had seen the
fountains there in silver basins in the midst of the ways. I have seen small spires upon
their ebony houses and the spires were all of gold, birds strutted there upon the copper
roofs from golden spire to spire that have no equal for splendour in all the woods of the
world. And over London the desiderate city the sky is so deep a blue that by this alone
the traveller may know where he has come, and may end his fortunate journey. Nor yet
for any colour of the sky is there too great heat in London, for along its ways a wind
blows always from the South gently and cools the city.
"Such, O Friend of God, is indeed the city of London, lying very far off on the yonder
side of Bagdad, without a peer for beauty or excellence of its ways among the towns of
the earth or cities of song; and even so, as I have told, its fortunate citizens dwell, with
their hearts ever devising beautiful things and from the beauty of their own fair work that
is more abundant around them every year, receiving new inspirations to work things more
beautiful yet."
"And is their government good?" the Sultan said.
"It is most good," said the hasheesh-eater, and fell backwards upon the floor.
He lay thus and was silent. And when the Sultan perceived he would speak no more that
night he smiled and lightly applauded.
And there was envy in that palace, in lands beyond Bagdad, of all that dwell in London.

Thirteen at Table

In front of a spacious fireplace of the old kind, when the logs were well alight, and men
with pipes and glasses