ARABIAN MAGIC 



dates, grapes and bananas, oranges and lemons 

 and pomegranates. For a space of time man is a 

 king here, and walks with the perfumed silence 

 alone with his thoughts. Other gardens are full 

 of history and the remembrance of art ; here it 

 is half a dream. It is a place for lotus-eaters. 

 Sleep, languor rests deliciously on the brain, 

 soft fingers seem to stroke one's eyelids. I 

 could listen to that boy singing for ever ; his 

 voice is the peace of this place speaking. Out- 

 side is the fierce glare, the sand quivering with 

 heat, the parched road." 



I force myself to keep my eyes open. Some- 

 where there is a small fire burning, and the smoke 

 has an aromatic perfume which mounts to my 

 head like wine. I know neither the time nor the 

 season. They could make me king, emperor, and 

 I should not move. They could clothe me in 

 purple silk and bind my head with bands of gold, 

 and I should not stir. Voices drift across my 

 fading consciousness ; I am aware of strange 

 music. 



" There is a magic in this place," says the 

 king drowsily. Instantly I begin to fight the 

 spell. I withdraw the mists from my mind, but 



'5 



