VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER FIVE.
"Mustapha," said the pacha, "I feel as the caliph Haroun Alraschid, inthe tale of Yussuf, related by _Menouni_, full of care; my soul isweary--my heart is burnt as roast meat."
Mustapha, who had wit enough to perceive that he was to act the part ofGiaffar, the vizier, immediately replied, "O pacha! great and manifoldare the cares of state. If thy humble slave may be permitted to advise,thou wilt call in the Chinese dog with two tails, who hath as yetrepeated but one of his tales."
"Not so," replied the pacha, "I am weary of his eternal ti-tum,tilly-lilly, which yet ringeth in mine ears. What else canst thoupropose?"
"Alem penah! refuge of the world, wilt thou be pleased to order out thytroops, and witness their exercise of djireed? The moon is high in theheavens, and it is light as day."
"Not so," replied the pacha; "I am tired of war and all that appertainsto it. Let the troops sleep in peace."
"Then, O pacha! will you permit your slave to send for some bottles ofthe fire-water of the Giaour, that we may drink and smoke until we areelevated to the seven heavens?"
"Nay, good vizier, that is as a last resource, for it is forbidden bythe laws of the Prophet. Think once more, and thou must have no morebrains than a water-melon, if this time thou proposest not that whichwill give me ease."
"Thy slave lives but to hear, and hears but to obey," replied Mustapha."Then will it please my lord to disguise himself, and walk through thestreets of Cairo; the moon is bright, and the hyena prowls not now, butmingles his howlings with those of the jackal afar off."
"Your face is whitened, Mustapha, and it pleaseth us. Let the disguisesbe prepared, and we will sally forth."
In a short time the disguises were ready, the vizier taking care thatthey should be those of Armenian merchants, knowing that the pacha wouldbe pleased with the similarity to those worn by the great Alraschid: twoblack slaves, with their swords, followed the pacha and his vizier at ashort distance. The streets were quite empty, and they met with nothingliving except here and there a dog preying on the garbage and offal, whosnapped and snarled as they passed by. The night promised nothing ofadventure, and the pacha was in no very good humour, when Mustaphaperceived a light through the chinks of a closed window in a smallhovel, and heard the sound of a voice. He peeped through, the pachastanding by his side. After a few seconds the vizier made signs to thepacha to look in. The pacha was obliged to strain his fat body to itsutmost altitude, standing on the tips of his toes to enable his eyes toreach the cranny. The interior of the hovel was without furniture, achest in the centre of the mud floor appeared to serve as table andrepository of every thing in it, for the walls were bare. At thefireplace, in which were a few embers, crouched an old woman, apersonification of age, poverty, and starvation. She was warming hershrivelled hands over the embers, and occasionally passed one of herhands along her bony arm, saying, "Yes, the time has been--the time hasbeen."
"What can she mean," said the pacha to Mustapha, "by the time has been?"
"It requires explanation," replied the vizier; "this is certain, that itmust mean something."
"Thou hast said well, Mustapha; let us knock, and obtain admittance."Mustapha knocked at the door of the hovel.
"There's nothing to steal, so you may as well go," screamed the oldwoman; "but," continued she, talking to herself, "the time has been--thetime has been."
The pacha desired Mustapha to knock louder. Mustapha applied the hiltof his dagger, and thumped against the door.
"Ay--ay--you may venture to knock now, the sultan's slippers are not atthe door," said the old woman; "but," continued she, as before, "thetime has been--the time has been."
"Sultan's slippers! and time has been!" cried the pacha. "What does theold hag mean? Knock again, Mustapha."
Mustapha reiterated his blows.
"Ay--knock--knock--my door is like my mouth; I open it when I choose,and I keep it shut when I choose, as once was well known. The time hasbeen--the time has been."
"We have been a long time standing here, and I am tired of waiting; so,Mustapha, I think the time is come to kick the door open. Let it bedone."
Whereupon Mustapha put his foot to the door, but it resisted hisefforts. "Let me assist," said the pacha, and retreated a few paces; heand Mustapha backed against the door with all their force. It flewopen, and they rolled together on the floor of the hovel. The old womanscreamed, and then, jumping on the body of the pacha, caught him by thethroat, crying, "Thieves! murder!" Mustapha hastened to the assistanceof his master, as did the two black slaves, when they heard the cries,and with some difficulty the talons of the old Jezebel were disengagedfrom the throat of the pacha, who, in his wrath, would have immediatelysacrificed her. "Lahnet be Shitan! Curses on the devil!" exclaimed thepacha; "but this is pretty treatment for a pacha."
"Knowest thou, vile wretch, that thou hast taken by the throat, andnearly strangled, the Lord of Life--the pacha himself," said Mustapha.
"Well," replied the old woman coolly, "the time has been--the time hasbeen."
"What meanest thou, cursed hag, that the time has been?"
"I mean that the time has been, when I have had more than one pachastrangled. Yes," continued she, squatting down on the floor, andmuttering, "the time has been."
The pacha's rage was now a little appeased. "Mustapha," said the pacha,"let this old woman be carefully guarded; to-morrow afternoon we willunderstand the meaning of those strange words, `the time has been.'Depend upon it, thereby hangs a good story; we will have that first--andthen," whispered the pacha, "her head off afterwards."
The old woman, hearing the order to take her into custody, againrepeated, "Ah, very well--the time has been." The slaves laid hold ofher; but she defended herself so vigorously with her teeth and nails,that they were under the necessity of gagging her, and tying her handand foot. They then hoisted her on their shoulders: and marched offwith her to the palace, followed by Mustapha and the pacha, the latterquite delighted with his adventure. When the divan of the ensuing dayhad closed, the old woman was ordered to be brought into the presence ofthe pacha; and as she refused to walk, she was brought on the shouldersof four of the guards, and laid on the floor of the council-chamber."How dare you rebel against the sublime commands?" inquired Mustaphawith severity.
"How dare I rebel!" cried the old woman with a shrill voice. "Why, whatright has the pacha to drag me from my poor hovel; and what can he wantwith an old woman like me? It's not for his harem, I presume."
At this remark the pacha and Mustapha could not help laughing: havingrecovered his gravity, Mustapha observed, "One would imagine, oldcarrion that thou art, that the idea of such a punishment as thebastinado had never entered your mind."
"There you are mistaken, Mr Vizier, for I have suffered both thebastinado and the bowstring."
"The bowstring! Holy Prophet! what a lying old hag!" exclaimed thepacha.
"No lie, pacha, no lie!" screamed the old woman in her wrath. "I havesaid it--and the bowstring. Yes, the time has been, when I was youngand beautiful; and do you know why I suffered? I'll tell you--because Iwould not hold my tongue--and do you think that I will now, that I'm anold piece of carrion? Yes--yes--the time has been."
"Fortunately, then," replied Mustapha, "you are not required by thepacha to hold your tongue. You are required to do the very contrary,which is, to speak."
"And do you know why I received the bowstring?" screamed the old hag."I'll tell you--because I would not speak; and I do not intend so to donow, since I find that you wish that I should."
"Then it appears," said the pacha, taking the pipe out of his mouth,"that the bastinado was as ill managed as the bowstring. We do thesethings better at Cairo. Hear me, old mother of Shitan! I wish to knowwhat you mean by that expression which is ever in your mouth, `time hasbeen.'"
"It means a great deal, pacha, for it refers to my life--you want thestory."
"Exactly," replied Mustapha, "so begin.
"
"You must pay me for it--it is worth twenty pieces of gold."
"Do you presume to make conditions with his sublime highness the pacha?"exclaimed Mustapha. "Why, thou mother of afrits and ghouls, if thoucommencest not immediately, thy carcass shall be thrown over the wallsfor the wild dogs to smell at, and turn away from in disgust."
"Vizier, I have lived long enough to trust nobody. My price is twentypieces of gold counted out in this shrivelled hand before I begin; andwithout they are paid down--not _one word_." And the old beldame foldedher arms, and looked the pacha boldly in the face.
"God is great!" exclaimed the pacha. "We shall see." At his well-knownsignal the executioner made his appearance, and holding up the fewscattered grey hairs which still remained upon her head, he raised hisscimitar, awaiting the nod which was to be succeeded by the fatal blow.
"Strike, pacha, strike!" cried the old woman scornfully. "I shall onlylose a life of which I have long been weary; but you will lose a storyof wonder, which you are so anxious to obtain. Strike--for the lasttime, I say, `Time has been'--before time shall be no more!"
"That is true, Mustapha," observed the pacha. "I forgot the story.What an obstinate old devil; but I must hear the story."
"If it appears good to your absolute wisdom," said Mustapha in a lowvoice, "would it not he better to count down to this avaricious old hagthe twenty pieces of gold which she demands? When her story is ended,it will be easy to take them from her, and her head from her shoulders.Thus will be satisfied the demands of the old woman, and the demands ofjustice."
"Wallah thaib! it is well said, by Allah! Your words are as pearls.Count out the money, Mustapha."
"His highness the pacha has been pleased, in consideration of the fearand trembling with which you have entered his presence, to order thatthe sum which you require shall be paid down," said Mustapha, pullingout his purse from his girdle. "Murakkas, you are dismissed," continuedthe vizier to the executioner, who let go the old woman, anddisappeared. Mustapha counted out the twenty pieces of gold, and shovedthem towards the old woman, who after some demur, as if imagining thatthey ought to have been brought to her, got up and took possession ofthem. She counted them over, and returned one piece as being of lightweight. Mustapha, with a grimace, but without speaking, exchanged itfor another.
"By the beard of the Prophet!" muttered the pacha; "but never mind."
The old woman took out a piece of dirty rag, wrapped up the gold pieces,and placing them in her vest, smoothed down her sordid garments, andthen commenced as follows:--
"Pacha, I have not always lived in a hovel. These eyes were not alwaysbleared and dim, nor this skin wrinkled and discoloured. I have notalways been covered with these filthy rags--nor have I always wanted orcoveted the gold which you have just now bestowed upon me. I have livedin palaces--I have commanded there. I have been robed in gold--I havebeen covered with jewels. I have dispensed life and death--I have givenaway provinces. Pachas have trembled at my frown--have received by myorders the bowstring--for at one time I was the favourite of the grandsultan. Time has been."
"It must have been a long time ago, then," observed the pacha.
"That is true," replied the old woman; "but I will now narrate myadventures."
STORY OF THE OLD WOMAN.
I was born in Georgia, where, as your highness knows, the women arereckoned to be more beautiful than in any other country, except indeedCircassia; but, in my opinion, the Circassian women are much too tall,and on too large a scale, to compete with us; and I may safely venturemy opinion, as I have had an opportunity of comparing many hundreds ofthe finest specimens of both countries. My father and mother, althoughnot rich, were in easy circumstances; my father had been a janissary inthe sultan's immediate employ, and after he had collected some property,he returned to his own country, where he purchased some land andmarried. I had but one brother, who was three years older than myself,and one of the handsomest youths in the country. He was disfigured alittle by a scarlet stain on his neck, somewhat in shape resembling abunch of grapes, and which our national dress would not permit him toconceal. My father, intending that he should serve the sultan, broughthim up to a perfect knowledge of every martial exercise. Even atfourteen years old, few could compete with him in the use of the bow,and throwing the djireed, and as a horseman he was perfect. As for me,I was, I am certain, intended for the sultan's seraglio, for as a childI was beautiful as a houri. My father was a man who would not scrupleto part with his children for gold, provided he obtained his price. Iwas considered, and I believe that I was, the most beautiful girl in thecountry, and every care was taken that I should not injure my appearanceor hurt my complexion by domestic labour or exposure. I was notpermitted to assist my mother, who, induced by my father's orders,waited upon me. I was indulged in every whim, and I grew up as selfishand capricious as I was beautiful. Smile not, pacha--time has been.
One day, when I was about fourteen years old, I was sitting at theporch, when a large body of Turkish cavalry suddenly made theirappearance from a wood close to the house, and surrounded it. Theyevidently came for me, for they demanded me by name, threatening to burnthe house down to the ground, if I was not immediately delivered up.Our house, which was situated near the confines of the country, had beenconstructed for defence; and my father expecting assistance from hisneighbours, refused to acquiesce to their terms. The assault was made,my father and mother, with all their household, were murdered, mybrother severely wounded, the house plundered and burnt to the outsidewalls. I was of course a prisoner as well as my brother. He was tied,wounded as he was, upon one horse, and I upon another, and in a fewhours the party had regained the frontiers. A young man, handsome as anangel, was the leader of the band, and I soon perceived that all histhoughts and attentions were directed to me. He watched me with thegreatest solicitude when we halted, procured me every comfort, and wasalways hovering about my presence. From the discourse of the soldiers Idiscovered that he was the only son of the grand vizier at Stamboul. Hehad heard of my beauty, had seen me, and offered a large sum to myfather, who had refused, as his ambition was that I should belong to thesultan--in consequence I had been carried off by force. I could haveloved the beautiful youth, although he had murdered my father andmother, but it was the taking me by force which steeled my heart, and Ivowed that I never would listen to his addresses, although I was socompletely in his power. During the time that I had been in hispossession I had never spoken one word, and it came into my head that Iwould pretend to be dumb. In three weeks we arrived at Constantinople.Since I had quitted the country I had never seen my brother; his woundwas too severe to allow him to travel with the same rapidity, and it wasnot until years afterwards that I knew what had become of him. I wastaken to Osman Ali's house, and allowed a few days repose from thefatigue of the journey; after which, as I was still but a child, I wasordered to be instructed in music, dancing, singing, and every otheraccomplishment considered necessary for the ladies of a harem. But Iadhered to my resolution; every method to induce me to speak was triedin vain; even blows, torture from pinching, and other means wereresorted to, but would not induce me to swerve from my resolution; atlast they concluded that I was either born dumb, or had become so fromfright at the time that the attack and slaughter of my family tookplace. I was eighteen months in the harem of Osman Ali, and never spokeone word.
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"Mashallah! but this is wonderful!" exclaimed the pacha--"a woman holdher tongue for eighteen months! Who is to believe this?"
"Not at all wonderful," replied the old woman, "when you recollect thatshe was required to speak."
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Once, and once only, did I nearly break through my resolution. Two ofthe principal favourites were conversing in my presence.
"I cannot imagine," said one, "what Ali can see in this little minx
tobe so infatuated with her. She is very ugly--her mouth is large--herteeth are yellow--and her eyes not only have no expression, but lookdifferent ways. She has one shoulder higher than the other, and worsethan all, being dumb, cannot be taught any thing but dancing, which onlyshows her ugly broad feet."
"That is all true," replied the other. "If I was Ali, I should employher as a common slave; she is fit for nothing but to roll up and beatcarpets, boil rice, and prepare our coffee. A little of the slipper onher mouth would soon bring her to her senses."
I must own that I was near breaking through my resolution that I mighthave indulged my revenge, and had not the door suddenly opened, I shouldhave proved to them, that I could have spoken to some purpose, for neverwould I have ceased, until they had both been sewn up in sacks, and castinto the Bosphorus. But I restrained myself, although my cheeks burnedwith rage, and I more than once put my hand to my jewelled dagger.
I was often visited by Osman Ali, who in vain attempted to make mespeak; a harsh guttural sound was all which I would utter to expresspain or pleasure. At last, being convinced that I was dumb, heexchanged me with a slave-merchant for a beautiful Circassian girl. Hedid not state my supposed infirmity, but gave it as his reason forparting with me, that I was too young, and required to be taught. Assoon as the bargain was struck, and the merchant had received the moneywhich had been given by Ali to effect the exchange, I was despoiled ofmy dress and ornaments, and put in a litter, to be conveyed to the houseof the slave-merchant. As your highness may imagine, not a little tiredof holding my tongue for a year and a half--
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"By the beard of the Prophet, we can believe you on that point, goodwoman. You may proceed."
"Yes, yes, I may proceed. You think women have no resolution, and nosouls--be it so--and what you dignify with the name of perseverance inyour own sex, you call obstinacy in ours. Be it so--time has been."
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I was no sooner in the litter than I let loose my tongue, and called outto the women who were appointed to conduct me to the door of the harem,"Tell Osman Ali, that now I am no longer his slave, I have found mytongue." Then closing the curtains, I was carried away. As soon as Iarrived, I told the merchant all that had passed, and the reason why Alihad parted with me. The merchant, who was astonished at having made sogood a bargain, laughed heartily at my narrative. He told me that heintended me for the seraglio of the sultan--flattered me by declaringthat I should be certainly the favourite, and advised me to profit all Icould by the masters he would provide. In the mean time, Osman Alihaving heard from the women the message I had sent, was very wroth, andcame to the slave-merchant to procure me again; but the slave-merchantinformed him that the kislar aga of the sultan had seen me, and orderedme to be reserved for the imperial seraglio; by this falsehood screeninghimself, not only from Ali's importunities, but also from his vengeance.I took the advice of my master, and in a little more than a year becamea proficient in music and most other accomplishments; I also learnt towrite and read, and to repeat most of the verses of Hafiz, and othercelebrated poets. At seventeen I was offered to the kislar aga as aprodigy of beauty and talent. The kislar aga came to see me, and wasastonished; he saw at once that I should immediately become firstfavourite; and having heard me sing and play, he demanded my price,which was enormous. He reported me to the sultan, stating that he hadnever beheld such perfection, and at the same time informing him of theexorbitant demand of the slave-merchant. The sultan, who had latelyfelt little interest in the inmates of his harem, and was anxious fornovelty, ordered the sum to be paid, and I was conducted to the seraglioin a royal litter.
That I was anxious to be purchased by the sultan I confess: my priderebelled at the idea of being a slave, and if I was to be so, at least Iwished to be the slave of the sultan. I indulged the idea that I shouldsoon bring him to subjection, and that the slave would lord it over hermaster, and that master the dispenser of life and death, honour anddisgrace, to millions. I had made up my mind how to behave; the poets Ihad read had taught me but too well. Convinced that a little wilfulnesswould, from its novelty, be most likely to captivate one who had beenaccustomed to dull and passive obedience, I allowed my natural temper tobe unchecked. The second day after my arrival, the kislar aga informedme that the sultan intended to honour me with a visit, and that thebaths and dresses were prepared. I replied that I had bathed thatmorning, and did not intend to bathe again--as for the dresses andjewels, I did not require them, and that I was ready to receive my lord,the sultan, if he pleased to come. The kislar aga opened his eyes withastonishment at my presumption; but not venturing to use force to onewho, in his opinion, would become the favourite, he returned to thesultan, reporting to him what had passed. The sultan, as I expected,was more amused at the novelty than affronted at the want of respect."Be it so," replied he, "this Georgian must have a good opinion of herown charms."
In the evening the sultan made his appearance, and I prostrated myselfat his feet, for I did not wish to proceed too far at once. He raisedme up, and appeared delighted.
"You were right, Zara," said he, "no jewels or dress could add to thesplendour of your beauty."
"Pardon me, O gracious lord," replied I, "but if thy slave is to pleasethee, may it be by her natural charms alone. If I have the honour tocontinue in thy favour, let me adorn myself with those jewels whichought to decorate the chosen of her master--but as a candidate I haverejected them, for who knows but in a few days I may be deserted for onemore worthy of your preference?"
The sultan was delighted at my apology, and I certainly was pleased withhim. He was then about forty years of age, very handsome and well made;but I was still more gratified to find that my conversation amused himso much that he remained with me for many hours after his usual time forretiring. This gave promise of an ascendancy which might survivepersonal charms. But not to detain your highness, I will at once state,the sultan soon thought but of me. Not only my personal attractions,but my infinite variety, which appeared natural, but was generallyplanned and sketched out previous to his visits, won so entirely uponhim, that so far from being tired, his passion, I may say his love, forme was every day increased.
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"Well, it _may be_ all true," observed the pacha, looking at thewrinkled and hideous object before him. "What do you say, Mustapha?"
"O pacha! we know not yet her history. The mother of your slave, as Ihave heard from my father, was once most beautiful. She is still in ourharem, and _pooh_," said Mustapha, spitting, as if in abhorrence.
"Right, good vizier--right--recollect, pacha, what I have said. Timehas been." The pacha nodded and the old woman proceeded.
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Once sure of the sultan's affections, I indulged myself in greaterliberties--not with him, but with others; for I knew that he would laughat the tricks I might play upon his dependants, but not be equallypleased with a want of respect towards himself; and other people of theharem were the objects of my caprice and amusement. So far frompreventing him from noticing the other women in the harem, I wouldrecommend them, and often have them in my apartments when he would visitme, and wish to be alone. I generally contrived to manage a littlequarrel about once a month, as it renewed his passion. In short, thesultan became, as I intended, so infatuated, that he was my slave, andat the same time I felt an ardent attachment to him. My power was wellknown. The presents which I received from those who required my goodoffices were innumerable, and I never retained them, but sent them aspresents to the sultan, in return for those which he repeatedly sent tome. This indifference on my part to what women are usually too fond ofincreased his regard.
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"By
the holy Prophet, but you seemed fond enough of gold just now,"observed the pacha.
"Time has been, replied the old woman. I speak not of the present."
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For two years I passed a happy life; but anxious as the sultan was, aswell as myself, that I should present him with an heir, that happinesswas denied me, and eventually was the cause of my ruin. The queenmother, and the kislar aga, both of whom I had affronted, wereindefatigable in their attempts to undermine my power. The wholeuniverse, I may say, was ransacked for a new introduction into theseraglio, whose novelty and beauty might seduce the sultan from my arms.Instead of counterplotting, as I might have done, I was pleased attheir frustrated efforts. Had I demanded the woolly head of the one,and poisoned the other, I had done wisely. I only wish I had them now--but I was a fool--it cannot be helped--but time has been.
Like most of the sex, the ruling passion of the sultan was vanity, adisease which shows itself in a thousand different shapes. He waspeculiarly proud of his person, and with reason, for it was faultless,with one little exception, which I had discovered, a wen, about the sizeof a pigeon's egg, under the left arm. I had never mentioned to himthat I was aware of it; but a circumstance occurred which annoyed me,and I forgot my discretion.
The kislar aga had at last discovered a Circassian slave, who, hethought, would effect the purpose. She was beautiful, and I had alreadyengrossed the sultan's attentions for more than two years. Men will befickle, and I expected no otherwise. What I required was the dominionover the mind; I cared little about the sultan's attentions to otherwomen. Like the tamed bird which flies from its cage, and afterwandering a short time, is glad to return to its home and re-assume itsperch, so did I consider it would be the case with the sultan. I never,therefore, wearied him with tears or reproaches, but won him back withsmiles and good-humour. I expected that this new face would detach himfor a short time, and for a fortnight he never came into my apartment.He had never been away so long before, and I was rather uneasy. Hevisited me one morning, and I asked him to sup with me. He consented,and I invited three or four of the most beautiful women of the seraglio,as well as the lady of his new attachment, to meet him. I thought itwise so to do, to prove to him that I was not displeased, and trustingthat the Circassian might suffer when in company with others of equalcharms, who from neglect might reassume their novelty. The Circassianwas undeniably most beautiful; but, without vanity, she was by no meansto be compared to me; she had the advantage of novelty, and I hoped nomore, for I felt what a dangerous rival she might prove if her wit andtalents were equal to her personal charms. The sultan came, and Iexerted myself to please, but, to my mortification, I was neglected; allhis attentions and thoughts were only for my rival, who played her partto admiration, yielded to him that profound respect and abjectadulation, which, on my part, had been denied him, and which heprobably, as a novelty from a favourite, set a higher price upon. Atlast, I was treated with such marked insult, that I lost my temper, andI determined that the sultan should do the same. I handed him a smallapple. "Will my lord accept this apple from the hand of his slave? isit not curious in shape? It reminds me of the wen under your majesty'sleft arm."
The sultan coloured with rage.
"Yes," replied I laughing, "you have one of them, you know very well."
"Silence, Zara," cried the sultan, in a firm tone.
"And why should I be silent, my lord? Have not I spoken the truth?"
"False woman! deny what you have falsely uttered."
"Sultan, I will not deny the truth. I will, if you command me, hold mytongue."
"Your slave has been honoured with my lord's attentions, and denies theassertion as a calumny," observed my rival.
"Peace, wretch! thou hast proved thyself unworthy of the honour, by thylying tongue."
"I tell thee, Zara, silence! or you shall feel my indignation."
But I was now too angry, and I replied, "My lord, you well know that Ionce held my tongue for eighteen months; I therefore can be silent whenI choose; but I can also speak when I choose, and now I do choose tospeak. I have said it, and I will not retract my words."
The sultan was white with rage; my life hung upon a thread; when theCircassian maliciously observed, "The bastinado might induce her toretract."
"And shall," exclaimed the sultan, clapping his hands.
The kislar aga appeared, in obedience to the sultan's orders; theexecutioner of the harem, and two slaves, stretched me on the floor--Imade no resistance or complaint; my jewelled slippers were taken off,and all was ready for the disgraceful punishment.
"Now, Zara, will you retract?" said the sultan, solemnly.
"No, my lord, I will not. I repeat, that you have a wen under your leftarm."
"Strike," cried the sultan, in a paroxysm of rage. The bamboos fell,and I received a dozen blows. I bore them without a cry; I was too muchchoked by my feelings.
"Now, Zara, will you retract?" exclaimed the sultan, in a subdued tone.
"Never, sultan; I will prove to you that a woman has more courage thanyou may imagine; if I die under the punishment, my rival shall not haveeven the pleasure of a groan. You ask me to retract. I will not swervefrom the truth. You have, and you know you have, and so does that vileparasite by your side know that you have a wen under your left arm." Iwas faint with the pain, and my voice was weak and trembling.
"Proceed," said the sultan.
When I had received thirty blows, I fainted with the agony, and thesultan ordered them to desist. "I trust, Zara, you are now sufficientlypunished for your disobedience." But I heard him not; and when thesultan perceiving that I did not reply, looked at me, his heart melted.He felt how arbitrary, how cruel he had been. The Circassian went tohim; he ordered her, in a voice of thunder, to be gone, me to be unboundby the other ladies, laid on the sofa, and restoratives to be procured.When I came to my senses, I found myself alone with the sultan. "OhZara," said he, as the tears stood in his eyes, "why did you tempt methus--why were you so obstinate?"
"My lord," answered I, in a feeble voice, "leave your slave and go tothose who can teach their tongues to lie. I have never deceived you,although I may have displeased you. I have loved you with fidelity andtruth. Now that you have witnessed what I can suffer rather than beguilty of falsehood, you ought to believe me. Take my life, my lord,and I will bless you; for I have lost you, and with you I have lost morethan life."
"Not so, Zara," replied the sultan; "I love you more than ever."
"I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, although it is now of no avail.I am no longer yours, and never will be. I am unfit to be yours; myperson has been contaminated by the touch of Ethiopian slaves--it hasbeen polluted by the hand of the executioner--it has been degraded by achastisement due only to felons. Oblige me, as a last proof of yourkindness, by taking a life which is a burthen to me."
Despot as he was, the sultan was much moved; he was mortified at havingyielded to his temper, and his passionate affection for me had returned.He intreated my pardon, shed tears over me, kissed my swelled feet, andhumiliated himself so much, that my heart relented--for I loved himdearly still.
"Zara," exclaimed he, at last, "will you not forgive me?"
"When, my lord, have I ever shown myself jealous? True love is abovejealousy. This evening, to please you, although I have lately beenneglected, did I not request your new favourite to meet you? In return,I was grossly insulted by neglect, and studied attentions to her. I waspiqued, and revenged myself--for I am but a woman. I was wrong in sodoing, but having told the truth, I was right in not retracting what Ihad said. Now that you have degraded me--now that you have rendered meunworthy of you, you ask me to forgive you."
"And again I implore it, my dearest Zara!"
"There are my jewels, my lord. I have no other property but what I havereceived, and cherished as presents from you. Your treasurer well knowsthat. Take my jewels, my
lord, and present them to her, they will makeher more beautiful in your sight--to me they are now worthless. Go toher, and in a few days you will forget that ever there was such a personas the unhappy, the neglected, the disgraced, and polluted Zara." And Iburst into tears, for even with all his ill usage, I was miserable atthe idea of parting with him; for what will not a woman forgive to a manwho has obtained her favour and her love?
"What can I do to prove that I repent?" cried the sultan. "Tell me,Zara. I have supplicated for pardon, what more can I do?"
"Let my lord efface all traces and memory of my degradation. Was not Istruck by two vile slaves, who will babble through the city? Was not Iheld down by an executioner? These arms, which have wound round themaster of the world, and no other, polluted by his gripe."
The sultan clapped his hands, and the kislar aga appeared. "Quick,"exclaimed he, "the heads of the slaves and executioner who inflicted thepunishment." In a minute the kislar aga appeared; he perceived howmatters stood, and trembled for his own. He held up the three heads,one after another, and then returned them to the sack of sawdust inwhich they had been brought.
"Are you satisfied now, Zara?"
"For myself, yes--but not for you. Who was it that persuaded you todescend from your dignity, and lower yourself, by yielding to theinstigations of malice? Who was it that advised the _bastinado_? As awoman, I am too proud to be jealous of her; but as one who values yourhonour, and your reputation, I cannot permit you to have so dangerous acounsellor. Your virgins, your omras, your princes, will all be at hermercy; your throne may be overturned by her taking advantage of herpower."
The sultan hesitated.
"Sultan, you have but to choose between two things; if she be aliveto-morrow morning, I am dead by my own hand. You know I never lie."
The sultan clapped his hands, the kislar aga again appeared. "_Her_head," said he, hesitatingly. The kislar aga waited a little toascertain if there was no reprieve, for too hasty a compliance withdespots is almost as dangerous as delay. He caught my eye--he saw atonce that if not her head it would be his own, and he quitted the room.In a few minutes he held up by its fair tresses the head of my beautifulrival; I looked at the distorted features, and was satisfied. Imotioned with my hand and the kislar aga withdrew.
"Now, Zara, do you forgive me? Now do you believe that I sincerely loveyou, and have I obtained my pardon?"
"Yes," replied I, "I do, sultan; I forgive you all; and now I willpermit you to sit by me and bathe my feet."
From that day I resumed my empire with more despotic power than ever. Iinsisted that I should refuse his visits when I felt so inclined, andwhen I imagined that there was the slightest degree of satiety on hispart, he was certain to be refused admittance for a fortnight. I becamethe depositary of his secrets and the mover of his counsels. My swaywas unlimited, and I never abused it. I loved him, and his honour andhis welfare were the only guides to my conduct.
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"But your highness will probably be tired; and as I have now told how itwas that I suffered the bastinado, you will perhaps wait till to-morrowfor the history of the bowstring."
"I believe that the old woman is right," said Mustapha, yawning, "it islate. Is it your highness's pleasure that she shall return to-morrowevening?"
"Be it so; but let her be in close custody--you remember."
"Be chesm--on my eyes be it. Guards, remove this woman from the sublimepresence."
"It appears to me," said the pacha to Mustapha, "that this old woman'sstory may be true. The description of the harem is so correct--commanding one day, bastinadoed the next."
"Who can doubt the fact, your sublime highness? The Lord of Lifedispenses as he thinks fit."
"Very true; he might send me the bowstring tomorrow."
"Allah forbid!"
"I pray with you; but life is uncertain, and it is our fate. You are myvizier to-day, for instance--what may you be to-morrow?"
"Whatever your highness may decide," replied Mustapha, not much likingthe turn of the conversation. "Am not I your slave--and as the dirtunder your feet--and shall I not bow to your sovereign pleasure and mydestiny?"
"It is well said, and so must I if the caliph sends me a Capitan Badji,which Allah forbid. There is but one God and Mahomet is his Prophet."
"Amen," replied Mustapha. "Will your highness drink of the water of theGiaour?"
"Yes, truly; for what says the poet? `We are merry to-day and to-morrowwe die.'"
"Min Allah; God forbid! That old woman has lived a long while, whyshouldn't we?"
"I don't know; but she has had the bowstring and is not yet dead. Wemay not be so fortunate."
"May we never have it at all; then shall we escape, O pacha."
"True, Mustapha; so give me the bottle."
The Pacha of Many Tales Page 20