In its rear, there diverged¹ three separate arbors, leading to less public apartments.

 

Traversing the central arbor², and fancying it will soon lead you to open ground, you suddenly come upon the most private retreat of the prince: a square structure; plain as a pyramid; and without, as inscrutable. Down to the very ground, its walls are thatched; but on the farther side a passage-way opens, which you enter. But not yet are you within. Scarce a yard distant, stands an inner thatched wall, blank as the first. Passing along the intervening corridor, lighted by narrow apertures³, you reach the opposite side, and a second opening is revealed. This entering, another corridor; lighted as the first, but more dim, and a third blank wall. And thus, three times three, you worm round and round, the twilight⁴ lessening⁵ as you proceed; until at last, you enter the citadel⁶ itself: the innermost arbor of a nest; whereof, each has its roof, distinct from the rest.

 

The heart of the place is but small; illuminated⁷ by a range of open sky-lights, downward contracting.

 

Innumerable as the leaves of an endless folio, multitudinous mats cover the floor; whereon reclining by night, like Pharaoh on the top of his patrimonial⁸ pile, the inmate⁹ looks heavenward, and heavenward only; gazing at the torchlight processions in the skies, when, in state, the suns march to be crowned.

 

And here, in this impenetrable retreat, centrally

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