"O my mother!" exclaimed she; "beloved, but too ambitious mother! but
for one little hour to lay this head upon your bosom! Fatal hath been
the dream you rejoiced in at my nativity, in which the moon shone out so
brilliantly, and then descended into the earth at your feet. I have
shone but a little, little time, and now am I buried, as it were, in the
earth, at my joyous age. Immured in this solitary tower, my hopes
destroyed--my portrait cannot have been seen--and now I am lost for
ever. Thou lute, sole companion of my woes, let us join our voices of
complaint. Let us fancy that the flowers are listening to our grief, and
that the dews upon the half-closed petals are tears of pity for my
misfortunes." And Chaoukeun struck her lute, and thus poured out her
lament:
"O tell me, thou all-glorious sun,
Were there no earth to drink thy light,
Would not, in vain, thy course be run,
Thy reign be o'er a realm of night?
"Thus charms were born to be enthroned
In hearts, and youth to be caress'd;
And beauty is not, if not own'd,
At least by one adoring breast."
Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.
The musical notes of the peerless Chaoukeun were not thrown away only
upon flowers deaf and dumb, they vibrated in the ears of the magnificent
Youantee, who had sat down on the back of an enormous metal dragon,
which had been placed in the walk under the terrace. The emperor
listened with surprise at her soliloquy, with admiration at her
enchanting song.
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