He was perched on one leg, with his
head turned on one side, poring with his remaining eye on a diagram
described on the pavement.
The prince approached him with the awe and reverence naturally
inspired by his venerable appearance and supernatural wisdom.
"Pardon me, most ancient and darkly wise raven," exclaimed he, "if for
a moment I interrupt those studies which are the wonder of the
world. You behold before you a votary of love, who would fain seek
your counsel how to obtain the object of his passion."
"In other words," said the raven, with a significant look, "you seek
to try my skill in palmistry. Come, show me your hand, and let me
decipher the mysterious lines of fortune."
"Excuse me," said the prince, "I come not to pry into the decrees of
fate, which are hidden by Allah from the eyes of mortals; I am a
pilgrim of love, and seek but to find a clue to the object of my
pilgrimage."
"And can you be at any loss for an object in amorous Andalusia?"
said the old raven, leering upon him with his single eye; "above
all, can you be at a loss in wanton Seville, where black-eyed
damsels dance the zambra under every orange grove?"
The prince blushed, and was somewhat shocked at hearing an old
bird with one foot in the grave talk thus loosely. "Believe me,"
said he, gravely, "I am on none such light and vagrant errand as
thou dost insinuate. The black-eyed damsels of Andalusia who dance
among the orange groves of the Guadalquivir are as naught to me.
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