As for what I saw--well, it cannot be described, at any rate by me, except perhaps as a flash of glory.
Every man has dreamed of perfect beauty, basing his ideas of it perhaps on that of some woman he has met who chanced to take his fancy, with a few accessories from splendid pictures or Greek statues thrown in, _plus_ a garnishment of the imagination.

At any rate I have, and here was that perfect beauty multiplied by ten, such beauty, that at the sight of it the senses reeled.

And yet I repeat that it is not to be described.
I do not know what the nose or the lips were like; in fact, all that I can remember with distinctness is the splendour of the eyes, of which I had caught some hint through her veil on the previous night.

Oh, they were wondrous, those eyes, but I cannot tell their colour save that the groundwork of them was black.

Moreover they seemed to be more than eyes as we understand them.