Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.
The procession arrived at the palace, and the pearl of price was now his bride, and the heart of Youantée was oppressed with love. Upon a jewelled throne they sat, side by side; but what was the blaze of the diamonds, compared to one glance from her lightning eye? What were the bright red rubies, compared to her parted coral lips—or the whiteness of the pearls, when she smiled, and displayed her teeth? Her arched eyebrows were more beautifully pencilled than the rainbow; the blush upon her cheek turned pale with envy every rose in the celestial gardens; and in compassion to the court, many of whom were already blind, by rashly lifting up their eyes to behold her charms, an edict had been promulgated, by which it was permitted to the mandarins and princes attending the court, to wear green spectacles to save their eyes. The magnificent Youantée was consumed with love as with a raging fever, and the physicians of the emperor were alarmed for his celestial health; by their advice, Chaoukeun consented only to receive him in a darkened chamber. All was joy. The empire rang with the praises of the pearl beyond all price. The gaols were ordered to be levelled to the ground—criminals to be pardoned—the sword of justice to remain in its scabbard—the bastinado to be discontinued. Even the odious lanthorn-tax was taken off, in honour of the peerless Chaoukeun, whose praises were celebrated by all the poets of the country, until they were too hoarse to sing, and the people too tired to listen to them.
Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.
* * * * *
"I'm sure I don't wonder at their being tired," observed the pacha, yawning, "if they were like you."
"God is great," replied Mustapha, with another yawn. "Shall he proceed?"
"Yes, let him go on; wake me when the story is ended," replied the pacha, laying down his pipe.
* * * * *
Alas! how soon was all this delirium of happiness to be overthrown: how soon was the prophecy to be fulfilled, that there should be not only joy in life, but also sorrow! The magnificent Youantée was roused from his dream of delight by courier after courier coming in, and laying at the celestial feet tidings of the advance of the hundred thousand warriors. A solemn council was summoned, and the imperial edict was passed, that the barbarians of the north should be driven back to their lands of eternal frost and snow. The imperial armies departed from the capital, each individual composing its hundreds of thousands, vowing by his two tails that he would eat all that he killed. This bloody vow was accomplished, for they killed none; they returned discomfited, without their bows, or arrows, or their swords, fleeing before the rage of the Tartar chief. Then rose the great Youantée in wrath, and issued another edict that the barbarians should be driven even into the sea which bounds the empire of the world. And the armies were again sent forth, but again they returned discomfited, saying, "How can we, who eat rice with chopsticks, combat with barbarians, who not only ride on horses, but eat them too?" The celestial edict was not attended to by the Tartars, for they were barbarians, and knew no better; and they continued to advance until within one day's progress of the celestial capital; and the brother of the sun and moon, the magnificent Youantée, was forced to submit to the disgrace of receiving an envoy from the barbarians, who thus spoke, in sugared words:—
"The great khan of Tartary greets the magnificent Youantée; he has slaughtered some millions of his subjects, because they were traitors, and would not defend the celestial throne. He has burnt some thousands of his towns, that the great Youantée may order them to be rebuilt in greater beauty. All this has he done with much trouble and fatigue, to prove his regard to the magnificent Youantée. All that he asks in return is, that he may receive as his bride the peerless Chaoukeun, the pearl beyond all price."
The great Youantée spoke from his celestial throne—"Return my thanks to the great khan your master, for his considerate conduct, and tell him, that he well deserves a bride from our celestial empire, but the pearl beyond all price is wedded to the brother of the sun and moon. Any other maiden in our empire shall be sent to him with gifts worthy to be offered by the great Youantée, and worthy to be accepted by the great khan of Tartary. Let it be an edict."
But the Tartar replied, "O great monarch, the great khan my master does not require an edict, but the peerless Chaoukeun. If I return without her, he enters the celestial city, and spares not man, or woman, or child." Then fell at the celestial feet all the princes and mandarins of every class, performing solemnly the great kow tow, and the chief minister of state spoke thus:—"Lord of the universe, brother of the sun and moon, who governs the world with thine edicts, whose armies are invincible, and numerous as the sands upon the shores of the four seas, listen to thy faithful slaves. Surrender up to this barbarian the pearl beyond all price, so shall we all live to humble ourselves before thee." And all the princes and mandarins cried out with one voice, "Surrender up the pearl beyond all price." And all the brave generals drew their swords, and waved them in the air, crying out, "Surrender up to this barbarian the pearl beyond all price." And all the army and all the people joined in the request.
Then rose up Youantée in great wrath, and ordered that the prime minister, and all the mandarins, and the princes, and all the generals, and all the army, and all the people, should be disgraced and decapitated forthwith. "Let it be an edict." But as there was no one left to put the great Youantée's edict into force, it was not obeyed. And the brother of the sun and moon perceived that he was in the minority; concealing therefore his bile, he graciously ordered refreshments for the envoy, saying, "Let the dog be fed," and retired to the apartment of the peerless Chaoukeun.
Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.
Now the beauteous empress had listened to all that had taken place in the great hall of audience, and she threw herself at the celestial feet, saying, "Let me be sacrificed—it is my destiny. Send your slave to the great khan to do with me as he pleases—I am all submission. They say he is a handsome man, and of great size and strength. It is my destiny."
Then did the great Youantée shed bitter tears at his bitter fate; but he knew it was his destiny—and O destiny, who can resist thee? He wiped his celestial eyes, and leading forth the peerless Chaoukeun, put her in the hands of the barbarian envoy, saying, "I send your master the pearl beyond all price. I have worn her for some time, but still she is as good as new. And now let your master the great khan return, with his hundred thousand warriors, to the confines of our territories, as it was agreed. Thou hearest. It is an edict."
"It is enough that my great master hath given his word, and the great Youantée hath given the pearl beyond all price. There needs not an edict," replied the envoy, departing with the peerless Chaoukeun. Thus was the magnificent Youantée left without a bride.
Now when the envoy had brought the peerless Chaoukeun in a close litter to the tent of the great khan, he forthwith commanded his army to return. Much to the mortification of the peerless damsel, he did not express any curiosity to behold her, but commenced a rapid retreat, and, in a few days, arrived at the confines of the celestial territory, which was separated from the Tartar dominions by an impetuous river. As soon as he had forded the river, he encamped on the other side, and sat down with his generals to a sumptuous feast of horseflesh and quass. When the liquor had mounted into his brain, he desired that the litter of the pearl beyond all price should be brought nigh to his tent, that he might send for her, if so inclined. And the peerless Chaoukeun peeped out of the litter, and beheld the great khan as he caroused; and when she beheld his hairy form, his gleaming eyes, his pug-nose, and his tremendously wide mouth—when she perceived that he had the form and features of a ghoul, or evil spirit, she wrung her hands, and wept bitterly, and all her love returned for the magnificent Youantée.
Now the great khan was drunk with quass, and he ordered the pearl beyond all price to be brought to him, and she replied trembling, saying, "Tell your lord that I am not fit to appear in his sublime presence until I have washed myself in the river." And those who had charge of her took the message to the great khan, who replied, "Let her wash, since she is so dirty."
Then was the litter of the peerless Chaoukeun taken down to the banks of the river, and she stood upon a rock which overhung the black waters. "How callest thou this river?" said she to her attendants.
And they replied, "This river, O princess, divides the territory of
Tartary from China, and it is called the river of the Black Dragon."
"Then is the prophecy fulfilled," cried the pearl beyond price. "It is my destiny; and destiny, who shall resist?"
She raised up her arms to heaven, and uttering a loud shriek at her unhappy fate, she plunged headlong into the boiling waters, and disappeared for ever.
Thus was the prophecy fulfilled. The brother of the sun and moon had wed—beauty had been laid at the golden feet—the pearl beyond price had been found and lost. There had been joy and there had been sorrow in life—and sorrow in death. The Black Dragon had proved the foe to the celestial empire, for it had swallowed up the pearl beyond all price.
Ti-tum, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.
The twang of the rude instrument awoke the pacha, who had been fast asleep for some time.
"Is it finished, Mustapha?" said he, rubbing his eyes.
"Yes, your highness; and the destiny foretold was truly accomplished."
"Bismillah! but I'm glad of it. Before he had whined ten minutes, I foretold that I should go to sleep. My destiny has also been accomplished."
"Will your highness foretell the destiny of this dog with two tails?"
"Two tails! that reminds me that we have only had one out of him as yet. Let's have him again to-morrow, and have another. At all events, we shall have a good nap. God is great."
Chapter XX
"Mustapha," said the pacha, "I feel as the caliph Haroun Alraschid, in the tale of Yussuf, related by Menouni, full of care; my soul is weary—my heart is burnt as roast meat."
Mustapha, who had wit enough to perceive that he was to act the part of Giaffar, the vizier, immediately replied, "O pacha! great and manifold are 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 yet repeated 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 thou propose?"
"Alem penah! refuge of the world, wilt thou be pleased to order out thy troops, and witness the exercise of djireed? The moon is high in the heavens, and it is light as day."
"Not so," replied the pacha; "I am tired of war and all that appertains to it. Let the troops sleep in peace."
"Then, O pacha! will you permit your slave to send for some bottles of the fire-water of the Giaour, that we may drink and smoke until we are elevated to the seven heavens?"
"Nay, good vizier, that is as a last resource, for it is forbidden by the laws of the Prophet. Think once more, and thou must have no more brains than a water-melon, if this time thou proposest not that which will 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 the streets of Cairo; the moon is bright, and the hyena prowls not now, but mingles his howlings with those of the jackal afar off."
"Your face is whitened, Mustapha, and it pleaseth us. Let the disguises be prepared, and we will sally forth."
In a short time the disguises were ready, the vizier taking care that they should be those of Armenian merchants, knowing that the pacha would be pleased with the similarity to those worn by the great Alraschid; two black slaves, with their swords, followed the pacha and his vizier at a short distance. The streets were quite empty, and they met with nothing living except here and there a dog preying on the garbage and offal, who snapped and snarled as they passed by. The night promised nothing of adventure, and the pacha was in no very good humour, when Mustapha perceived a light through the chinks of a closed window in a small hovel, and heard the sound of a voice. He peeped through, the pacha standing by his side. After a few seconds the vizier made signs to the pacha to look in. The pacha was obliged to strain his fat body to its utmost altitude, standing on the tips of his toes to enable his eyes to reach the cranny. The interior of the hovel was without furniture, a chest in the centre of the mud floor appeared to serve as table and repository of everything in it, for the walls were bare. At the fireplace, in which were a few embers, crouched an old woman, a personification of age, poverty, and starvation. She was warming her shrivelled hands over the embers, and occasionally passed one of her hands along her bony arm, saying, "Yes, the time has been—the time has been."
"What can she mean," said the pacha to Mustapha, "by 'the time has been'?"
"It requires explanation," replied the vizier; "this is certain, that it must 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 old woman; "but," continued she, talking to herself, "the time has been—the time has been."
The pacha desired Mustapha to knock louder. Mustapha applied the hilt of his dagger, and thumped against the door.
"Ay—ay—you may venture to knock now, the sultan's slippers are not at the door," said the old woman: "but," continued she, as before, "the time has been—the time has been."
"Sultan's slippers! and time has been!" cried the pacha. "What does the old 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 has been—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 be done."
Whereupon Mustapha put his foot to the door, but it resisted his efforts. "Let me assist," said the pacha, and retreated a few paces; he and Mustapha backed against the door with all their force. It flew open, and they rolled together on the floor of the hovel. The old woman screamed, and then, jumping on the body of the pacha, caught him by the throat, crying, "Thieves; murder!" Mustapha hastened to the assistance of his master, as did the two black slaves, when they heard the cries, and with some difficulty the talons of the old Jezebel were disengaged from the throat of the pacha, who, in his wrath, would have immediately sacrificed her. "Lahnet be Shitan! Curses on the devil!" exclaimed the pacha; "but this is pretty treatment for a pacha."
"Knowest thou, vile wretch, that thou hast taken by the throat, and nearly strangled, the Lord of Life—the pacha himself," said Mustapha.
"Well," replied the old woman, coolly, "the time has been—the time has been."
"What meanest thou, cursed hag, that 'the time has been'?"
"I mean that the time has been, when I have had more than one pacha strangled. Yes," continued she squatting down on the floor, and muttering, "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 will understand the meaning of those strange words, 'the time has been.' Depend upon it, thereby hangs a good story; we will have that first—and then," whispered the pacha, "her head off afterwards."
The old woman, hearing the order to take her into custody, again repeated. "Ah, very well—the time has been." The slaves laid hold of her; but she defended herself so vigorously with her teeth and nails, that they were under the necessity of gagging her, and tying her hand and foot. They then hoisted her on their shoulders, and marched off with her to the palace, followed by Mustapha and the pacha, the latter quite delighted with his adventure. When the divan of the ensuing day had closed, the old woman was ordered to be brought into the presence of the pacha; and as she refused to walk, she was brought on the shoulders of four of the guards, and laid on the floor of the council-chamber. "How dare you rebel against the sublime commands?" inquired Mustapha with severity.
"How dare I rebel!" cried the old woman with a shrill voice. "Why, what right has the pacha to drag me from my poor hovel; and what can he want with an old woman like me? It's not for his harem, I presume."
At this remark the pacha and Mustapha could not help laughing; having recovered his gravity, Mustapha observed, "One would imagine, old carrion that thou art, that the idea of such a punishment as the bastinado had never entered your mind."
"There you are mistaken, Mr Vizier, for I have suffered both the bastinado and the bowstring."
"And the bowstring! Holy Prophet! what a lying old hag!" exclaimed the pacha.
"No lie, pacha, no lie!" screamed the old woman in her wrath. "I have said it—and the bowstring. Yes, the time has been, when I was young and beautiful; and do you know why I suffered? I'll tell you—because I would not hold my tongue—and do you think that I will now that I'm an old piece of carrion? Yes—yes—the time has been."
"Fortunately, then," replied Mustapha, "you are not required by the pacha 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 do now, 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 these things better at Cairo. Hear me, old mother of Shitan! I wish to know what you mean by that expression which is ever in your mouth—'time has been.'"
"It means a great deal pacha, for it refers to my life—you want the story."
"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 thou commencest not immediately, thy carcass shall be thrown over the walls for the wild dogs to smell at, and turn away from in disgust."
"Vizier, I have lived long enough to trust nobody. My price is twenty pieces of gold counted out in this shrivelled hand before I begin; and without they are paid down—not one word." And the old beldam folded her arms, and looked the pacha boldly in the face.
"God is great!" exclaimed the pacha. "We shall see." At his well-known signal the executioner made his appearance, and holding up the few scattered gray hairs which still remained upon her head, he raised his scimitar, awaiting the nod which was to be succeeded by the fatal blow.
"Strike, pacha, strike!" cried the old woman, scornfully. "I shall only lose a life of which I have long been weary; but you will lose a story of wonder, which you are so anxious to obtain. Strike—for the last time, 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 low voice, "would it not be better to count down to this avaricious old hag the 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 of justice."
"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 fear and trembling with which you have entered his presence, to order that the sum which you require shall be paid down," said Mustapha, pulling out his purse from his girdle. "Murakkas, you are dismissed," continued the vizier to the executioner, who let go the old woman, and disappeared. Mustapha counted out the twenty pieces of gold, and shoved them towards the old woman, who, after some demur, as if imagining that they ought to have been brought to her, got up and took possession of them. She counted them over, and returned one piece as being of light weight. Mustapha, with a grimace, but without speaking, exchanged it for 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, and then commenced as follows:—
"Pacha, I have not always lived in a hovel. These eyes were not always bleared and dim, nor this skin wrinkled and discoloured. I have not always been covered with these filthy rags—nor have I always wanted or coveted the gold which you have just now bestowed on me. I have lived in palaces—I have commanded there. I have been robed in gold—I have been covered with jewels. I have dispensed life and death—I have given away provinces. Pachas have trembled at my frown—have received by my orders the bowstring—for at one time I was the favourite of the grand sultan. 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 my adventures."
STORY OF THE OLD WOMAN.
I was born in Georgia, where, as your highness knows, the women are reckoned to be more beautiful than in any other country, except indeed Circassia; 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 venture my opinion, as I have had an opportunity of comparing many hundreds of the finest specimens of both countries. My father and mother, although not rich, were in easy circumstances; my father had been a janissary in the sultan's immediate employ, and after he had collected some property, he returned to his own country, where he purchased some land, and married. I had but one brother, who was three years older than myself, and one of the handsomest youths in the country. He was disfigured a little by a scarlet stain on his neck, somewhat in shape resembling a bunch of grapes, and which our national dress would not permit him to conceal. My father, intending that he should serve the sultan, brought him up to a perfect knowledge of every martial exercise. Even at fourteen 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 child I was beautiful as a houri. My father was a man who would not scruple to part with his children for gold, provided he obtained his price. I was considered, and I believe that I was, the most beautiful girl in the country, and every care was taken that I should not injure my appearance or hurt my complexion by domestic labour or exposure. I was not permitted 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 selfish and capricious as I was beautiful. Smile not, pacha—time has been.
One day, when I was about fourteen years old, I was sitting at the porch, when a large body of Turkish cavalry suddenly made their appearance from a wood close to the house, and surrounded it. They evidently came for me, for they demanded me by name, threatening to burn the house down to the ground, if I was not immediately delivered up. Our house, which was situated near the confines of the country, had been constructed for defence; and my father, expecting assistance from his neighbours, refused to acquiesce in their terms. The assault was made, my father and mother, with all their household, were murdered, my brother severely wounded, the house plundered, and burnt to the outside walls. 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 few hours the party had regained the frontiers. A young man, handsome as an angel, was the leader of the band, and I soon perceived that all his thoughts and attentions, were directed to me. He watched me with the greatest solicitude when we halted, procured me every comfort, and was always hovering about my presence. From the discourse of the soldiers I discovered that he was the only son of the grand vizier at Stamboul. He had heard of my beauty, had seen me, and offered a large sum to my father, who had refused, as his ambition was, that I should belong to the sultan—in consequence I had been carried off by force. I could have loved the beautiful youth, although he had murdered my father and mother, but it was the taking me by force which steeled my heart, and I vowed that I never would listen to his addresses, although I was so completely in his power. During the time that I had been in his possession I had never spoken one word, and it came into my head that I would pretend to be dumb. In three weeks we arrived at Constantinople. Since I quitted the country I never had seen my brother, his wound was too severe to allow him to travel with the same rapidity, and it was not until years afterwards that I knew what had become of him. I was taken to Osman Ali's house, and allowed a few days' repose from the fatigue of the journey; after which, as I was still but a child, I was ordered to be instructed in music, dancing, singing, and every other accomplishment considered necessary for the ladies of a harem. But I adhered to my resolution, every method to induce me to speak was tried in vain; even blows, torture from pinching, and other means were resorted to, but would not induce me to swerve from my resolution; at last they concluded that I was either born dumb, or had become so from fright at the time that the attack and slaughter of my family took place. I was eighteen months in the harem of Osman Ali, and never spoke one word.
* * * * *
"Mashallah! but this is wonderful!" exclaimed the pacha—"a woman hold her tongue for eighteen months! Who is to believe this?"
"Not at all wonderful!" replied the old woman, "when you recollect that she was required to speak."
* * * * *
Once and once only, did I nearly break through my resolution. Two of the principal favourites were conversing in my presence.
"I cannot imagine," said one, "what Ali can see in this little minx to be so infatuated with her. She is very ugly—her mouth is large—her teeth are yellow—and her eyes not only have no expression, but look different ways. She has one shoulder higher than the other, and worse than all, being dumb, cannot be taught anything but dancing, which only shows her ugly broad feet."
"That is all true," replied the other. "If I was Ali, I should employ her as a common slave; she is fit for nothing but to roll up and beat carpets, boil rice, and prepare our coffee. A little of the slipper on her mouth would soon bring her to her senses."
I must own that I was near breaking through my resolution, that I might have indulged my revenge, and had not the door suddenly opened, I should have proved to them that I could have spoken to some purpose, for never would I have ceased, until they had both been sewn up in sacks, and cast into the Bosphorus. But I restrained myself, although my cheeks burned with 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 me speak; a harsh guttural sound was all which I would utter to express pain or pleasure. At last, being convinced that I was dumb, he exchanged me with a slave-merchant for a beautiful Circassian girl. He did not state my supposed infirmity, but gave it as a reason for parting with me, that I was too young, and required to be taught. As soon as the bargain was struck, and the merchant had received the money which had been given by Ali to effect the exchange, I was despoiled of my dress and ornaments, and put in a litter, to be conveyed to the house of the slave-merchant. As your highness may imagine, not a little tired of holding my tongue for a year and a half——
* * * * *
"By the beard of the prophet, we can believe you on that point, good woman. You may proceed."
"Yes, yes, I may proceed. You think women have no resolution, and no souls—be it so—and what you dignify with the name of perseverance in your own sex, you call obstinacy in ours. Be it so—time has been."
* * * * *
I was no sooner in the litter than I let loose my tongue, and called out to the women who were appointed to conduct me to the door of the harem. "Tell Osman Ali, that now that I am no longer his slave, I have found my tongue." Then closing the curtains, I was carried away. As soon as I arrived, I told the merchant all that had passed, and the reason why Ali had parted with me. The merchant, who was astonished at having made so good a bargain, laughed heartily at my narrative. He told me that he intended me for the seraglio of the sultan—flattered me by declaring that I should be certainly the favourite, and advised me to profit all I could by the masters he would provide. In the meantime, Osman Ali having heard from the women the message I had sent, was very wroth, and came to the slave-merchant to procure me again; but the slave-merchant informed him that the Kislar Aga of the sultan had seen me, and ordered me to be reserved for the imperial seraglio; by this falsehood screening himself, 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 became a proficient in music and most other accomplishments; I also learnt to write and read, and to repeat most of the verses of Hafiz, and other celebrated poets. At seventeen I was offered to the Kislar Aga as a prodigy of beauty and talent. The Kislar Aga came to see me, and was astonished; he saw at once that I should immediately become first favourite; and having heard me sing and play, he demanded my price, which was enormous. He reported me to the sultan, stating that he had never beheld such perfection, and at the same time informing him of the exorbitant demand of the slave-merchant. The sultan, who had felt little interest in the inmates of his harem, and was anxious for novelty, ordered the sum to be paid, and I was conducted to the seraglio in a royal litter.
That I was anxious to be purchased by the sultan I confess: my pride rebelled at the idea of being a slave, and if I was to be so, at least I wished to be the slave of the sultan. I indulged the idea that I should soon bring him to subjection, and that the slave would lord it over her master, and that master the dispenser of life and death, honour and disgrace, to millions. I had made up my mind how to behave; the poets I had read had taught me but too well. Convinced that a little wilfulness would, from its novelty, be most likely to captivate one who had been accustomed to dull and passive obedience, I allowed my natural temper to be unchecked. The second day after my arrival, the Kislar Aga informed me that the sultan intended to honour me with a visit, and that the baths and dresses were prepared. I replied that I had bathed that morning, and did not intend to bathe again—as for the dresses and jewels, 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 with astonishment at my presumption, but not venturing to use force to one who, in his opinion, would become the favourite, he returned to the sultan, 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 her own charms."
In the evening the sultan made his appearance, and I prostrated myself at his feet, for I did not wish to proceed too far at once. He raised me up and appeared delighted.
"You are right, Zara," said he; "no jewels or dress could add to the splendour of your beauty."
"Pardon me, O gracious lord," replied I, "but if thy slave is to please thee, may it be by her natural charms alone. If I have the honour to continue in thy favour, let me adorn myself with those jewels which ought to decorate the chosen of her master—but as a candidate I have rejected them, for who knows but in a few days I may be deserted for one more worthy of your preference?"
The sultan was delighted at my apology, and I certainly was pleased with him. 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 him so much that he remained with me for many hours after his usual time for retiring. This gave promise of an ascendancy which might survive personal 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 generally planned and sketched out previous to his visits, won so entirely upon him, that so far from being tired, his passion, I may say his love, for me was every day increased.
* * * * *
"Well, it may be all true," observed the pacha, looking at the wrinkled and hideous object before him. "What do you say, Mustapha?"
"O pacha! we know not yet her history. The mother of your slave, as I have heard from my father, was once most beautiful. She is still in our harem, and pooh," said Mustapha, spitting, as if in abhorrence.
"Right, good vizier—right—recollect, pacha, what I have said: time has been." The pacha nodded, and the old woman proceeded.
* * * * *
Once sure of the sultan's affections, I indulged myself in greater liberties—not with him, but with others; for I knew that he would laugh at the tricks I might play upon his dependents, but not be equally pleased with a want of respect towards himself; and other people of the harem were the objects of my caprice and amusement. So far from preventing him from noticing the other women in the harem, I would recommend them, and often have them in my apartments when he would visit me, and wish to be alone. I generally contrived to manage a little quarrel about once a month, as it renewed his passion. In short, the sultan became, as I intended, so infatuated, that he was my slave, and at the same time I felt an ardent attachment to him. My power was well known. The presents which I received from those who required my good offices were innumerable, and I never retained them, but sent them as presents to the sultan, in return for those which he repeatedly sent to me. This indifference on my part to what women are usually too fond of, increased his regard.
* * * * *
"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."
* * * * *
For two years I passed a happy life; but anxious as the sultan was, as well as myself, that I should present him with an heir, that happiness was denied me, and was eventually the cause of my ruin. The queen mother, and the Kislar Aga, both of whom I had affronted, were indefatigable in their attempts to undermine my power. The whole universe, I may say, was ransacked for a new introduction into the seraglio, whose novelty and beauty might seduce the sultan from my arms. Instead of counter-plotting, as I might have done, I was pleased at their 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, a disease which shows itself in a thousand different shapes. He was peculiarly proud of his person, and with reason, for it was faultless, with one little exception, which I had discovered, a wen, about the size of a pigeon's egg, under the left arm. I had never mentioned to him that 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, he thought, would effect the purpose. She was beautiful, and I had already engrossed the sultan's attentions for more than two years. Men will be fickle, and I expected no otherwise. What I required was the dominion over the mind; I cared little about the sultan's attentions to other women. Like the tamed bird which flies from its cage, and after wandering a short time, is glad to return to its home and reassume its perch, 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 with smiles and good humour. I expected that this new face would detach him for 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. He visited 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 it wise so to do, to prove to him that I was not displeased, and trusting that the Circassian might suffer when in company with others of equal charms, who from neglect might reassume their novelty. The Circassian was undeniably most beautiful; but, without vanity, she was by no means to be compared to me; she had the advantage of novelty, and I hoped no more, for I felt what a dangerous rival she might prove if her wit and talents were equal to her personal charms. The sultan came, and I exerted myself to please, but, to my mortification, I was neglected; all his attentions and thoughts were only for my rival, who played her part to admiration, yielded to him that profound respect and abject adulation, which, on my part, had been denied him, and which he probably, as a novelty from a favourite, set a higher price upon. At last I was treated with such marked insult, that I lost my temper, and I determined that the sultan should do the same. I handed him a small apple. "Will my lord accept this apple from the hand of his slave? Is it not curious in shape? It reminds me of the wen under your Majesty's left 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 my tongue."
"Your slave has been honoured with my lord's attentions, and denies the assertion as a calumny," observed my rival.
"Peace, wretch! thou hast proved thyself unworthy of the honour, by thy lying 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 I once held my tongue for eighteen months, I therefore can be silent when I choose; but I can also speak when I choose, and now I do choose to speak. I have said it, and I will not retract my words."
The sultan was white with rage; my life hung upon a thread; when the Circassian maliciously observed, "The bastinado might induce her to retract."
"And shall," exclaimed the sultan, clapping his hands.
The Kislar Aga appeared, in obedience to the sultan's orders; the executioner of the harem, and two slaves stretched me on the floor,—I made 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 left arm."
"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 much choked 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 than you imagine; if I die under the punishment, my rival shall not have even the pleasure of a groan. You ask me to retract. I will not swerve from the truth. You have, and you know you have, and so does that vile parasite by your side know, that you have a wen under your left arm." I was 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 the sultan ordered them to desist. "I trust, Zara, you are now sufficiently punished for your disobedience." But I heard him not; and when the sultan, perceiving that I did not reply, looked at me, his heart melted. He felt how arbitrary, how cruel he had been. The Circassian went to him; he ordered her in a voice of thunder to be gone, me to be unbound by 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. "Oh! Zara," said he, as the tears stood in his eyes, "why did you tempt me thus—why were you so obstinate?"
"My lord," answered I, in a feeble voice, "leave your slave, and go to those who can teach their tongues to lie. I have never deceived you, although I may have displeased you. I have loved you with fidelity and truth. Now that you have witnessed what I can suffer rather than be guilty 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 more than 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; my person has been contaminated by the touch of Ethiopian slaves—it has been polluted by the hand of the executioner—it has been degraded by a chastisement due only to felons. Oblige me, as a last proof of your kindness, by taking a life which is a burden to me."
Despot as he was, the sultan was much moved; he was mortified at having yielded to his temper, and his passionate affection for me had returned. He entreated my pardon, and shed tears over me, kissed my swelled feet, and humiliated himself so much, that my heart relented—for I loved him dearly still.
"Zara," exclaimed he, at last, "will you not forgive me?"
"When, my lord, have I ever shown myself jealous? True love is above jealousy. This evening, to please you, although I have lately been neglected, did I not request your new favourite to meet you? In return, I was grossly insulted by neglect, and studied attentions to her. I was piqued, and revenged myself—for I am but a woman. I was wrong in so doing, but having told the truth, I was right in not retracting what I had said. Now that you have degraded me—now that you have rendered me unworthy 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 have received, and cherished as presents from you. Your treasurer well knows that. Take my jewels, my lord, and present them to her, they will make her more beautiful in your sight—to me they are now worthless. Go to her, and in a few days you will forget that ever there was such a person as the unhappy, the neglected, the disgraced, and polluted Zara." And I burst into tears; for even with all his ill-usage, I was miserable at the idea of parting with him; for what will not a woman forgive a man who 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 I struck by two vile slaves, who will babble through the city? Was not I held down by an executioner? These arms, which have wound round the master 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 the punishment." In a minute the Kislar Aga appeared; he perceived how matters stood, and trembled for his own. He held up the three heads, one after another, and then returned them to the sack of sawdust in which they had been brought.
"Are you satisfied now, Zara?"
"For myself, yes—but not for you. Who was it that persuaded you to descend from your dignity, and lower yourself, by yielding to the instigations of malice? Who was it that advised the bastinado? As a woman, I am too proud to be jealous of her; but as one who values your honour, and your reputation, I cannot permit you to have so dangerous a counsellor. Your virgins, your omras, your princes, will all be at her mercy; your throne may be overturned by her taking advantage of her power."
The sultan hesitated.
"Sultan, you have but to choose between two things; if she be alive to-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, to ascertain if there was no reprieve, for too hasty a compliance with despots is almost as dangerous as delay. He caught my eye—he saw at once, 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 beautiful rival; I looked at the distorted features, and was satisfied. I motioned with my hand, and the Kislar Aga withdrew.
"Now, Zara, do you forgive me? Now do you believe that I sincerely love you, and have I obtained my pardon?"
"Yes," replied I, "I do, sultan; I forgive you all; and now——I will permit you to sit by me and bathe my feet."
From that day I resumed my empire with more despotic power than ever. I insisted that I should refuse his visits when I felt so inclined; and when I imagined that there was the slightest degree of satiety on his part, he was certain to be refused admittance for a fortnight. I became the depositary of his secrets and the mover of his counsels. My sway was unlimited, and I never abused it. I loved him, and his honour and his welfare were the only guides to my conduct.
* * * * *
"But your highness will probably be tired, and as I have now told how it was that I suffered the bastinado, you will perhaps wait till to-morrow for the history of the bowstring."
"I believe that the old woman is right," said Mustapha, yawning; "it is late. Is it your highness's pleasure that she shall return to-morrow evening?"
"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 sublime presence."
"It appears to me," said the pacha to Mustapha, "that this old woman's story 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 Life dispenses as he thinks fit."
"Very true; he might send me the bowstring to-morrow."
"Allah forbid!"
"I pray with you; but life is uncertain, and it is our fate. You are my vizier to-day, for instance, what may you be to-morrow?"
"Whatever your highness may decide," replied Mustapha, not much liking the turn of the conversation. "Am not I your slave, and as the dirt under your feet—and shall I not bow to your sovereign pleasure, and my destiny?"
"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
Giaour?"
"Yes, truly; for what says the poet? 'We are merry to-day and to-morrow we die.'"
"Min Allah; God forbid! That old woman has lived a long while, why shouldn't we?"
"I don't know; but she has had the bowstring and is not yet dead. We may not be so fortunate."
"May we never have it at all; then shall we escape, O pacha."
"True, Mustapha; so give me the bottle."
Chapter XXI
The next evening the old woman made her appearance, without raising any difficulty, as on the previous day, and took her seat before the pacha, and thus continued:—
As I stated to your highness last evening when I broke off my narrative, I was in the highest favour with the sultan, who made me his confidant. He had often mentioned to me the distinguished services of a young seraskier, whom he had lately appointed capitan pacha, to combat in the north against a barbarous nation called Sclavonians, or Russians. My curiosity was raised to see this Rustam of a warrior, for his exploits and unvaried success were constantly the theme of the sultan's encomiums. A Georgian slave, who had been the favourite previous to my arrival, and who had never forgiven my supplanting her, had been sent to him by the sultan as a compliment; and this rare distinction had been conferred upon him on the day when I requested leave to remain behind the screen in the hall of the divan, that I might behold this celebrated and distinguished person. He was indeed a splendid figure, and his face was equally perfect. He formed, in outward appearance, all that I could imagine of a hero. As I looked at him from behind the screen, he turned his head from me, and I beheld, to my surprise, the red stain on his neck, which told me, at once, that I had found my long-lost brother. Delighted at the rencontre, I retired as soon as the audience was over, and the sultan came to my apartment; I told him the discovery which I had made. The sultan appeared pleased at the information: and the next day sending for my brother, he asked him a few questions relative to his lineage and former life, which corroborated my story, and, loading him with fresh honours, he dismissed him. I was delighted that, in finding my brother, I had found one who was not unworthy of the sultan's regard, and I considered it a most fortunate circumstance; but how blind are mortals! My brother was the cause of my disgrace and eternal separation from the sultan. I mentioned to your highness that the Georgian slave, who had preceded me in the sultan's favour, had been sent as a present to my brother. This woman, although she had always appeared fond of me, was, in fact, my most bitter enemy. She was very beautiful and clever, and soon obtained the most unlimited influence over my brother. Yet she loved him not; she had but one feeling to gratify, which was revenge on me. My brother had so often led the troops to victory, that he had acquired an unbounded sway over them. Stimulated by their suggestions, and his own ambition, which like mine, was boundless, he was at last induced to plot against his master, with the intention of dethroning him, and reigning in his stead. To his new wife, the Georgian, he had intrusted his plans; and she resolved to regain the favour of the sultan and accomplish my ruin, by making me a party, and then communicating to him the treason which was in agitation. She proposed to my brother that he should inform me of his intentions, alleging, that in all probability I would assist him, as I cared little for the sultan; and at all events, if I did not join, my interest might save him from his wrath. For some time he refused to accede to her suggestions; but as she pointed out that if the plot were discovered, I, as his sister, would certainly share his fate, and that she well knew that I had never forgiven the punishment of the bastinado which I had received, and only waited for an opportunity to revenge myself, he at last consented to make me a party to his intentions. My brother had been allowed to visit me, and he took this opportunity of stating to me his schemes. I started from him with horror, pointed out to him his ingratitude and folly, and entreated him to abandon his purpose. Convinced that I was firmly attached to the sultan, he appeared to acquiesce in the justice of my remarks, confessed that he was wrong, and promised me faithfully to think no more of his treacherous designs. I believed him to be sincere, and I shed tears of joy, as I thanked him for having yielded to my entreaties. We separated, and in a short time I thought no more of the subject.
But he had no idea of abandoning his purpose; in fact, he was already too deeply involved to be able to do so. His arrangements went on rapidly; and when all was ripe, the Georgian gave information to the sultan, denouncing me as a party as well as my brother.
One morning as I was sitting in my apartment, arranging on a tray a present for my lord and master, I was surprised by the abrupt entrance of the Kislar Aga, accompanied by guards, who without explanation seized me, and led me into the presence-chamber, where the sultan and all the officers of state were assembled. It immediately rushed into my mind that my brother had deceived me. Pale with anxiety, but at the same time with a feeling of delight that the plot had been discovered, I entered the divan, where I beheld my brother in the custody of the palace-guard. He had been seized in the divan, as his popularity was so great, that a few minutes' notice would have enabled him not only to escape, but to have put his treasonable plans into execution; but he bore himself with such a haughty air, with his arms folded across his breast, that I thought he might be innocent; and that he had, as he promised me, abandoned all thoughts of rebellion.
I turned towards the sultan, who fixed his eyes upon me; his brows were knit with anger, and he commenced, "Zara, your brother is accused of treason, which he denies. You, also, are charged with being privy to his designs. Answer me, do you know anything of these plots?"
I did not know how to answer this question, and I would not tell a lie. I did know something about his intentions; but as he had denied the charge, it was not to be expected that he should be condemned by the mouth of his only sister. Perhaps he had, as he had promised me, abandoned his ideas;—perhaps it could not be proved against him. My answer would have been the signal for his death. I could not give the answer required, and I replied, "If my brother be found guilty of rebelling against his sovereign, let him suffer. I, my lord, have never plotted or rebelled against you."
"Answer my question, Zara. Do you know anything about this plot? Yes or no. Say no, and I shall believe you."
"Your slave has never plotted against her lord," replied I. "Further I cannot answer your question."
"Then it is true;—and Zara—even Zara is false!" cried the sultan, clasping his hands in agony. "O! where can a person in my situation find one who is faithful and true, when Zara, even Zara is false?"
"No—no, my lord," cried I, bursting into tears; "Zara is true;—always has been, always will be, true. That I can boldly answer—but do not press the other question."
The sultan looked at me for a short time, and then consulted with the viziers and others, who stood by the throne with their arms folded. The chief vizier replied, "Those who know of treason, and conceal it, are participators in the crime."
"True—most true. Zara, for the last time I ask you, what do you know of this intended insurrection? I must be trifled with no longer. A plain answer, or——"
"I cannot answer that question, my lord."
"Zara, as you value your life, answer me immediately," cried the sultan, with violence;—but I answered not.
Twice more did the forbearance and love of the sultan induce him to repeat the question; but I remained silent.
He waved his hands, I was seized by the mutes, and the bowstring encircled my neck. All was ready, they awaited but the last signal to tighten the fatal cord.
"Once more, Zara, will you answer; or brave me to your destruction?"
"Sultan, I will at least speak to you before I die. I only wish to declare my fidelity and my love to you in my last moments, to tell you that I forgive you for that which, when the truth is known, you will never forgive yourself. One moment more. Let me remove this jewelled chain from my neck, now superseded by the bowstring. You presented it to me when convinced of my attachment and my love. Take it, sultan, and when you find one as faithful and as true, present it to her; but until you do so, wear it in memory of Zara. And now let me throw my veil over those features which have always beamed with love and delight on you, that when I am dead, and you call them to your recollection, they may be as you have been used to see them, and not black with convulsions and distorted with agony. My lord, my dear and honoured lord, farewell!"
The sultan was deeply moved; he turned away his head, and covered his face with one hand, while the other dropped at his side from the intensity of his feelings.
Although it never was so intended, this dropping of his hand was considered as the signal for my death. The string was tightened, and buried itself, cutting deeply into the flesh of a neck once as fair and smooth as the polished marble of Patras. For the first moments my torture was excruciating—my eyes were forcing out of their sockets—my tongue protruded from my mouth—my brain appeared to be on fire—but all recollection soon departed.
* * * * *
"Staffir Allah! God forgive me! but are you not laughing at our beards, old scarecrow? What think you, Mustapha?" continued the pacha, turning to him. "What is all this but lies?"
"Lies!" screamed the old woman. "Lies! you tell me they are lies! Well, well—the time has been. Pacha, after what I have suffered by telling the truth all my life, it is hard, in my old age, to be told that I lie; but you shall be convinced," and the old woman put her hands up to the shrivelled, pendent skin of her neck, and stretching it out smooth, showed a deep blue mark, which encircled it like a necklace. "Now are you satisfied?"
The pacha nodded his head to Mustapha, as if convinced; and then said,
"You may proceed."
"Yes, I may proceed; but I tell you, pacha, that if you doubt what I say once more, I will return your twenty pieces of gold, and hold my tongue. I proved that I could do it as a young woman, and we become more obstinate as we get old."
"That is no lie," observed Mustapha. "Continue, old woman, and we will not interrupt you with doubts again."
* * * * *
My brother, who had watched every motion of the sultan's, and who had determined to reveal all rather than that I should suffer, when he perceived the fatal mistake, which he did not till some moments afterwards, uttered a loud cry, and attempted to burst from his guards. Roused by the cry, the sultan looked up, and perceived what had taken place. In a moment he darted from his throne, and was kneeling by me with frantic exclamations. The mutes hastily tore away the bowstring, but I was, to all appearance, dead.
"Yes, sultan, well you may rave," exclaimed my brother; "for you have good cause. You have destroyed one who, as she declared with her last breath, was most faithful and most true. I acknowledge the conspiracy. I told her my intentions, and she thought that she had succeeded in preventing me, for I promised by the three to abandon my design. She has been faithful both to you and to me, for she believed that, although accused, I had atoned for my fault by repentance."
The sultan looked earnestly at my brother, but made no answer. He embraced me, at one moment bursting into tears, in the next calling for assistance. I was removed to my apartments, and after some time, the physicians succeeded in restoring me to life; but I was for many days confused and dizzy in the brain, during which time every attention and care was lavished on me. One evening I felt sufficiently recovered to speak, and I demanded of my attendants what had taken place. They informed me that the mutes, who had mistaken the signal, had been impaled, and that the Janissaries had risen and demanded my brother, whose execution had been deferred by the sultan; but that on the commotion taking place, by order of the grand vizier,—my brother had been executed, and his head thrown out to the rebellious troops, who had been dispersed, and had since been brought to subjection, and some hundreds of the ringleaders had been executed. I turned away at this intelligence, for I loved my noble but misguided brother. The movement occasioned excruciating pain, which arose from the deep wound made by the bowstring in my neck.
The next morning I rose, that I might contemplate my person in the mirror, and I at once perceived the alteration which had taken place. There was a certain degree of distortion of features which I thought would never be removed. I felt, that although the sultan might respect me, I could not expect the same influence and undivided attention as before. With a heavy heart I threw myself on the couch, and planned for the future. I reflected upon the uncertain tenure by which the affections of a despot are held, and I resolved to part. Still I loved him, loved him in spite of all his cruelty; but my resolution was made. For six weeks I refused to see the sultan, although he inquired every day, and sent me magnificent presents. At the end of that period I had recovered, and all that remained from the effects of the bowstring was a slight wrinkling of the skin from distension, and the deep blue mark round my neck which I have just shown to your highness.
When I first admitted the sultan, he was much affected. "Zara," said he, mournfully, "I swear by the holy prophet that I meant not to give the signal."
"I believe you, my lord," replied I, calmly.
"Neither did I intend that your brother should suffer. I meant to have gained your favour by his pardon."
"He was a traitor, my lord, an ungrateful traitor, and deserved his death. So may all like him perish."
"And now, Zara, may I hope for your forgiveness?"
"On one condition, sultan; and swear that you will grant what I require."
"I do, by Allah!"
"It is, that you send me back to my own country."
Not to detain your highness by dwelling too long upon what passed, it will suffice to say, that notwithstanding the entreaties of the sultan, and the pleadings of my own heart, my resolution was immovable. Every arrangement was made for my departure, and during the preparations, the sultan was continually with me, persuading me to abandon the idea. The magnificence and liberality which he showed in the costly presents bestowed upon me, that I might return with honour and wealth to my own country, more than once made me waver in my resolution. The evening before my departure he made a last attempt, but in vain. My refusal was at least softened by the tears which I shed, for now that the time of departure was so near, I felt how truly, how devotedly I was attached to him. We parted; I threw myself on the couch, and wept till the dawn of day, when I was summoned to commence my journey.
As your highness may be aware is the custom, when my brother was executed, all his property was seized by the sultan, and distributed among the favourites. The new capitan pacha who succeeded my brother was called Abdallah, and was said to be an excellent soldier. Part of my brother's property was made over to him, and among the rest the Georgian slave, who had been the ruin of my brother, and had so fatally destroyed my happiness. To show me every attention and respect, the sultan had ordered Abdallah in person to escort me to my own country, with a picked body of cavalry. The cavalcade was magnificent—treasure had been heaped on treasure—present upon present; twenty women of my own country, and numerous slaves had been permitted to attend upon me, and the procession wore the appearance of a pageant. I ascended my litter with an aching heart; and, journeying by easy stages, arrived at the land of my nativity. The borders were passed, and Abdallah requested me to write an acknowledgment that he had done his duty, which the sultan would require of him upon his return. I gave him the paper, and, professing many wishes for my future happiness, he assembled his troops, and the escort turned the heads of their neighing steeds towards the city, where my heart had truly been left behind.
It will now be necessary to revert to the Georgian slave, who had been presented to my brother by the sultan, and had afterwards been made over to Abdallah. When she heard that I was about to depart for my own country, loaded with presents, her rage was without bounds. Already had her beauty and talents made great impression upon Abdallah, and she soon won him over to a plot which would be advantageous to him, at the same time that it would throw me, whom she distrusted, into her power. She proposed to Abdallah that, after having escorted me to the frontiers, and received from me the acknowledgment required by the sultan, he should follow my small escort of slaves, cut them to pieces, take possession of me and all my treasure, and return with it to Constantinople, where I might be immured in his harem. The avarice of Abdallah was not able to withstand the temptation, and aware that there was no chance of the nefarious transaction being discovered by the sultan, he agreed to the proposal. On the second night after we had parted with Abdallah, a body of horsemen galloped down upon us, and all my attendants, male and female, were massacred. I was seized, put into a sack, and thrown across a horse, and as soon as the treasure could be collected, they set off at a rapid pace. I was nearly dead when they halted, and when I was removed from my painful situation I fainted away.
Abdallah had never seen my face; the soldiers reported me dead, and he was glad when he heard of it, for it was only to please his wife that he had promised to bring me back. He walked up to where I lay, and was, even in my miserable situation, enamoured with my beauty. His heart acknowledged that I was the most valuable of all his plunder. Every care and attention was bestowed upon me, and after several hours' halt to allow me to refresh myself, I was placed in a small litter, and our journey recommenced. He was studious to obtain my favour: at first I spurned him: but when he told me that the Georgian slave had instigated him to the deed, and had insisted that he should bring me back, I well knew for what purpose, and thought only of revenge. I feigned to be less averse to him, and before our journey was over, had used all my powers of fascination with triumphant success. At last our wearied horses arrived at Stamboul, and after waiting in the suburbs till the evening closed in, that the cavalcade might not attract attention, it proceeded to the house of Abdallah, and I was once more in the precincts of a harem. The Georgian slave hastened to meet me when she was informed of our arrival, and taking off her slipper, she struck me contemptuously on the mouth, with such force as to cause the blood to flow.
"Now, sultana," cried she, "the day is mine; again shall you receive the bastinado. Aye, and again shall the bowstring be applied to your proud neck, and more effectually than before." She then ordered her slaves to strip me, and put on the meanest attire. When that was done, she spat in my face, and left me without speaking; but the flashing of her eyes gave evidence of the fiery passions which were raging in her bosom.
In the meantime, Abdallah had proceeded to the palace, to present to the sultan the document proving my safe arrival, and having so done, he hastened back to his own house. As soon as he entered the harem, instead of visiting the Georgian slave, who had arrayed herself for his reception, he inquired of the astonished women in which chamber I had been accommodated. They hesitatingly replied, pointing it out to him. He entered, and found me clothed in a slave's dress, with my face covered with blood. When I stated the treatment I had received, and the further threat of the bastinado and the bowstring, his rage was beyond all bounds. Ordering all the women to attend me, he quitted me, that I might resume my own dress, intimating that he hoped that I would allow him to sup with me that evening. My desire for revenge induced me to grant his request, and he quitted the harem to look after the treasure of which I had been robbed.