Eastern Tales by Many Story Tellers 17 – Anonymous · Verses Across
Literature · Short Stories
Eastern Tales by Many Story Tellers 17The Four Talismans (part 2)
18
Literature · Short Stories
Eastern Tales by Many Story Tellers 17
The Four Talismans (part 2)
AnonymousEnglish
Bohetzad was not discouraged with so dry an answer, but still insisted with politeness, and even earnestness, for a more satisfactory reply. He who appeared to be the leader of the troop then presented to him the point of his spear, and said,
"Go on your way, audacious fellow! otherwise, if your curiosity becomes more impertinent, be assured it will cost you your life."
This insolent behaviour excited the indignation of the King. He went up to the knight who thus threatened him, with that air of confidence and that commanding tone, the habit of which he had acquired in the exercise of absolute power.
"Slave of my throne!" said he to him, "dost thou not know Bohetzad? But, had I been only a common man, after speaking to you in so modest and friendly a manner, ought you to have threatened me with death?"
At the very name of Bohetzad, the knights alighted and prostrated themselves on the earth.
"Sire," said one of the oldest of them, "pardon an answer which we could not think addressed to the greatest monarch of the earth; for it was very possible not to recognize your Majesty in a hunting dress, and without attendants."
"Rise," said the King, "and gratify my curiosity. Who is the person in that litter, and whither are you conducting it?"
"Sire," answered the knight, "it is the daughter of Asphand, your Grand Vizier: we are conducting her to the Prince of Babylon, to whom she is going to be married."
During this, the daughter of the Vizier, uneasy on account of the delay, presented her head at the curtain of the litter, in order to get information, and was perceived by Bohetzad. Whatever pains she had taken to prevent herself from being seen, her extraordinary beauty struck the Sovereign. His heart received a fatal wound: his passion, arrived at its height, aspired after gratification from the very moment of its existence; and Bohetzad, determined to make sure of the object of it, made use of his absolute authority, and spoke thus to the conductor of the litter:
"I command you to take the road to Issessara, and to conduct the daughter of my Grand Vizier to my palace."
The commander of the troop thought it necessary to make some reply to his Majesty.
"Sire," said he, "your Vizier is your slave as well as we; and therefore, if we return his daughter to his own palace, she will continue there in equal subjection to your will."
"But my Vizier has disposed of his daughter without my consent, and I do not owe him the attention which you propose I should pay him."
"Sire," replied the knight, "your Grand Vizier Asphand has always been held in the highest estimation, and has had the honour to enjoy the confidence of your Majesty. One instance of violence exercised against him may affect his reputation, and cause him to lose, in the opinion of the public, that credit which it is your interest that he should enjoy."
"All his credit depends on me, and I do not detract from it by doing him the honour to marry his daughter."
The oldest, and likewise the best informed of the knights, still ventured to speak.
"Sire," said he, "precipitation is dangerous; it often draws repentance after it: your slaves beseech your Majesty to reflect maturely on this."
"I have reflected already, audacious old man!" replied the Prince in anger; "what caution should I observe with my slave? Obey."
Being able to restrain his impatience no longer, he himself seized the bridle of the mules, and directed their steps towards that part of the forest where he presumed his people would be assembled at the appointed rendezvous. He soon found himself at the tent which they had set up, and he ordered all his suite to accompany the Princess in the litter to his palace. When the retinue was arrived, the King ordered the chief of his eunuchs to bring the Cadi, who instantly appeared, and drew up a contract of marriage between Bohetzad and the Princess Baherjoa, daughter of Asphand the Vizier.
While the King was taken up with the ceremonies of the marriage, the forty knights returned to the palace of the Grand Vizier, being forced to abandon the litter, and the Princess whom they were conducting to Babylon. The minister was confounded at so speedy a return. Having set out from the city of Issessara, how could they come back so soon from Babylon? He feared that some extraordinary accident had befallen them. One of the knights came and told what had happened: he exaggerated the violence and despotic manner of Bohetzad, and filled the mind of the minister with fear and resentment, although he assured him that the monarch was that very night to marry his daughter.
"Thus to oppose himself to my disposal of my own family! to carry off my daughter! to marry her against my will!--in this manner to repay my services!" said the enraged minister.
Full of a desire of vengeance, he immediately ordered expresses to be sent to all his friends, the Princes and grandees of his family, to assemble them at his house. When they were come, he represented to them the outrage which the King had committed against his daughter, the Prince of Babylon, and himself. Shame and resentment entered into every breast. Asphand perceived, from the effect of the relation which he had made them, that it would be easy to associate them with him in his schemes of revenge.
"Princes and lords!" said he to them, "the King, occupied with his pleasures, is not delicate about the means of gratification; and, as a recompense for my labours, he hesitates not to expose me to the disgrace of an irreparable insult. I am nothing but a vile slave in his eyes. Thinks he that my daughter is obliged to share his unsteady attachment? You yourselves will not be safe from this dishonour; your wives and daughters will not be spared. His torrent of iniquity will discharge itself on you, if we endeavour not to stop its course."
The relations and friends of the Vizier entered into his interests, and a deliberation was held concerning the measures which were to be taken. One of them, deeply skilled in politics, thus gave his opinion:
"Vizier, write to the King, and express to him how sensible you are of the unexpected honour which he has done you, to which you could never have had the smallest pretensions. Along with this letter send another to your daughter, in which you must seem delighted with her good fortune. Supplicate Heaven with her, to pour down happiness upon a monarch so beloved by his people. Accompany these despatches with magnificent presents, and Bohetzad, blinded by his passion, will readily believe everything which can flatter it. You will take advantage of this security to leave him at the first opportunity, under pretence of attending to his business; and, having secured yourself against any sudden attack from him, transmit to all the Princes, the Governors, and people entrusted with the management of the finances, alarming accounts of the situation of the kingdom. Represent to them the danger of the State, while the government, is in the hands of a young Prince, addicted to the gratification of his passions, and incapable of rewarding the services done him, which he only repays with violence and disgrace, being guided by no law but the dictates of a will as depraved as it is absolute."
The Grand Vizier and the rest of the assembly adopted this plan. They all agreed to embrace every opportunity which might present itself of preparing the minds of the people, without exposing themselves to danger, and to continue at Issessara when Asphand had left it, for the purpose of giving him information and directing his conduct. These resolutions being entered into, the assembly quickly broke up, that they might give no room for suspicion; and Asphand wrote to the King in the following terms:
"Mighty King, monarch of two seas! your slave, already elevated by you to the place of Grand Vizier, and honoured with the title of Prince, did not expect the distinguished honour of becoming your relation. Infinitely obliged by this new favour, I offer up to the God of heaven the most ardent wishes that He would continually heap on your Majesty new marks of His kindness; that He would prolong your days, and grant you all the blessings of a kingdom which shall not be shaken to the latest posterity. My duty hitherto has been to labour for maintaining both external and internal peace in your dominions, by the wise administration of justice, and by defending your frontiers from the enemy. I filled the station of your First Vizier; the duties thereof are now become more sacred to me; the honour of a connection with you gives me a personal interest in their success; and my daughter and I will only be slaves more faithfully attached to your person and interests."
The letter to Baherjoa contained congratulations on her good fortune, and was as artfully expressed as the one addressed to her spouse. Asphand caused the first officer of his household to deliver these letters, and accompanied them with a magnificent present. The young son of the Vizier joined the envoy; they went together to the King's palace, and prostrated themselves before him.
Bohetzad, intoxicated with the good fortune which he enjoyed, did not in the least suspect the false declarations of the Vizier. He ordered his son to be clothed with the richest robe, and a thousand pieces of gold to be given to the officer who was entrusted with the message. Scarcely were they gone out, when the oldest of the Viziers came to pay his court to the King. The monarch received him with his usual goodness, made him sit down, and communicated to him the happiness which he expected to enjoy in the possession of his lovely spouse; for, though he had gained her by an act of violence, he imagined that his happiness could be obscured by no cloud.
"The attachment shown me by Asphand," said he, "removes my fears concerning the resentment which I might suppose him to possess: here are his letters; read them, and you will see how well he is pleased with this alliance. Besides, the magnificence of his presents exceeds even the force of his expressions."
The old minister, after reading the letters, continued thoughtful, and with downcast eyes.
"Are you not satisfied with what you have read?" said the King.
"A dangerous reptile," replied the minister, "when it means to introduce itself anywhere, does not try to frighten by its odious hissings: it creeps in artfully under the folds of its flexible and thin body; its scales are glittering and smooth; its looks are soft and fawning, and it takes care to conceal its treacherous and venomous sting. The letters of Asphand are studied: doubt not that you have offended; and the pretended softness of his expressions only conceals a scheme of revenge, the consequences of which you ought to guard against and prevent."
Bohetzad, entirely occupied with his love, and supposing that the minister who thus spoke to him was influenced by motives of jealousy, paid no regard to the advice, which proceeded from attachment, zeal, and prudence, but allowed himself to be blinded concerning the conduct of Asphand. The latter, in prosecution of his plan, and under pretence of appeasing some rumours in certain parts of the kingdom, left the capital, in a few months after, with his whole retinue. As soon as he saw himself out of the reach of power, he communicated to the governors of the provinces the affront which he had received; he excited them to revolt, by inspiring them with a fear that they would all meet with a treatment similar to that which he had received; and to determine them, he calumniated, in every instance, the person and government of Bohetzad.
On receiving the messengers of the Grand Vizier, the grandees of the kingdom, enraged against a Prince whose administration was held forth in such odious colours, concerted together, from one province to another, and assured Asphand that, upon the first signal given by him, they would take the field with the troops under their command. The Vizier at the same time warned the Princes who remained at Issessara to hold themselves in readiness against the day on which he should come to complete his revenge, and to free the State from a tyrant who was sunk in effeminacy.
The plot was executed before Bohetzad had the smallest suspicion of it. The city of Issessara was completely invested by the army of Asphand. On receiving this news, the King armed in haste; he ordered the troops who were about his person to follow him; but they had been gained over, and were devoted to his enemy. He saw no safety for himself but in flight. He saddled, with his own hands, one of his finest coursers; and, taking Baherjoa behind him, endeavoured to gain the desert. He made a passage for himself through the midst of his mutinous subjects, whom he trod under his feet. The young hero, whose courage seemed only to be increased by love, burst like a torrent through a troop of those who wished to interrupt his passage; his invincible spear spared none of the rebels; and his horse, as vigorous as swift, soon carried him out of sight of his enemies.
He was now in the midst of the desert; and, night obliging him to allow some repose to his wife, fatigued with so violent an expedition, he stopped at the foot of a frightful mountain. On this spot the Queen, exhausted with weariness, gave birth to her first-born child, and the Prince received in his arms a young boy, no less beautiful than his mother.
The tender pair loaded him with caresses, and soon forgot, in their new joy, the fatigue, uneasiness, and horror of their situation. The child was wrapped in a part of the Queen's robes; and, in this solitude, they enjoyed a profound sleep. The returning day invited them, however, to pursue their journey. The affectionate mother nursed her infant tenderly, but it pined away, and the mother herself was in danger. Bohetzad then saw himself under the cruel necessity of sacrificing nature to duty. He perceived a limpid fountain, on the borders of which there was a green bank, defended from the rays of the sun by the neighbouring willows. Here the unhappy parents abandoned to the care of Providence the object of their affection, having first watered it with their tears.
"Great Allah!" said the afflicted mother, "Thou who formerly watched over the young Ishmael, take care of this innocent creature. Send the preserving angel to him. We have no hope but in Thy succour."
Sighs prevented her from saying more. They both tore themselves away from this dreadful sacrifice, and committed this sacred deposit into the hands of its Creator.
The noise they had made in coming thither had frightened away from the brink a hind, who, along with her fawns, was refreshing herself at this exuberant fountain. As soon as they were gone, she returned, and approached the languishing creature, which seemed about to lose for ever the little strength which remained. A powerful instinct led this animal to give the child that nourishment which was reserved only for her young ones. She fed quietly around her nursling, and left the place no more. The wild beasts of the forest, it appeared, had abandoned to her the enjoyment of this happy spot, although so necessary to the supply of their wants, amid the burning sands and parched deserts with which they were surrounded. Nevertheless, men came to disturb their repose.
It was a band of robbers, whom thirst had brought into these places. They saw a child wrapped in rich swaddling-clothes, but still more remarkable for the beauty of its features. The leader of the banditti approached it, took it up, and sent it straightway to his wife, that she might pay it the necessary attentions, and educate it as if it had been their own son. When the wife saw it she was moved with its innocent beauty, entered into the benevolent views of her husband, and immediately procured for their adopted son the best nurse in the horde.
Having seen the son of Bohetzad in safe hands, let us now follow the steps of those illustrious travellers.
Full of grief for the sacrifice which they had been forced to make, the King and Queen continued their journey in sadness till they reached the capital of Persia, where Kassera then reigned.
This powerful monarch received the fugitive Prince and his charming spouse with the respect which was due from a crowned head to a great Sovereign, his ally, whose rebellious subjects had revolted under the standard of a criminal usurper. To Bohetzad he allotted an apartment in his palace as magnificent as his own, and to Baherjoa one equal to that of his favourite Sultana. Such were the riches and magnificence of the palace in which the King of Dineroux and his wife now were, that, besides the magnificent apartments in which they were lodged themselves, there were twenty-four others occupied by as many ladies belonging to the Sultan, each of whom was served by fifty slaves of their own sex, in the bloom of youth and of the most exquisite beauty.
The treasures of the East seemed to have been exhausted in beautifying these stately dwellings. The gardens were full of the rarest and the most gaudy flowers; the waters, whose courses were distributed with great art, presented a magnificent scene to the eye; the trees gave at once, by the beauty of their fruit and the thickness of their foliage, the idea of plenty and the delight of repose; the birds, with the variety of their plumage and their song, enchanted the inhabitants of these happy regions. Everything, in short, concurred to display the riches of the great monarch of Persia, whose immense power was further displayed by an army of two hundred thousand men which constituted his life guard. A Prince so powerful and magnificent need spare nothing in treating, in a manner suitable to their rank, the illustrious guests whom he had received into his palace.
At the same time that he ordered a powerful army to be assembled on the frontiers, with the necessary stores and military engines, he endeavoured to dispel the melancholy of the husband and wife by feasts, which displayed the greatest splendour and variety. But generosity and greatness of soul were not the only cause of his attentions; a less noble but more powerful feeling had taken possession of his heart. He was enamoured of Baherjoa, whose beauty was superior to that of all the wives in his seraglio. His passion for her was disguised under the veil of friendship; but, from the profusion which he displayed on every occasion, the delicacy of his attentions, and the care which he took to anticipate her wishes, it was easy to discover the love by which he was actuated. The sad Baherjoa, whose attention was occupied solely by the loss of her son and the misfortunes of her husband, was far from ascribing any of the attentions which she met with to this motive; her soul, weighed down with grief, was incapable of enjoying any of the pleasures which were presented to her; her heart, sincerely affected, was inaccessible to every impression but that with which it was already occupied. Her son abandoned in the desert to the care of Providence, and her husband reduced by her father to the necessity of asking succour from a foreign King, were the only objects which engrossed her thoughts.
In the meantime, the army which Bohetzad was to command was assembled. He took leave of Kassera to put himself at the head of this formidable body, and soon penetrated into the heart of Syria. Asphand, the usurper, being informed of the danger which threatened him, communicated it to his associates, assembled them as quickly as possible, and met his enemy at the head of two hundred thousand men.
The armies were now in sight of one another. The centre of Bohetzad's army was commanded by an experienced Vizier of the Persian King. Bohetzad himself, at the head of a chosen body of knights, was everywhere to give orders. He suddenly began the combat on the right by attacking the opposite wing of the enemy with such fury that they were obliged to fall back upon the centre, and were thrown into confusion and disorder. The King of Dineroux lost not a moment: he advanced his main body towards that of the enemy as if he meant to attack it; but, frugal of the blood of his subjects, whose lives he wished to spare, he made them halt, and ordered his left wing to attack the right wing of the enemy: they gave way and fell back in disorder, so that three-fourths of Asphand's army remained surrounded. The usurper endeavoured in vain to rally his troops, whom an attack equally prudent and vigorous had thrown into disorder. Fear, and above all remorse, disarmed them. A pardon being offered, they accepted it; and, that they might appear less unworthy of it, they unanimously delivered up the ringleaders of the revolt. Asphand, his family, and his principal associates, were put to death on the field of battle.
This victory decided anew the fate of the kingdom of Dineroux, which again submitted to the laws of its rightful Sovereign. The monarch returned to his capital, re-established order throughout his empire, and contrived proper means for testifying his gratitude to the Sovereign who had given him such powerful assistance.
He determined that the most intelligent of his Viziers should go into Persia, at the head of twelve thousand men. Twenty elephants, loaded with magnificent presents, were to follow in his train. At the same time, he was charged with a more delicate commission. He was to pass through the desert in which the son of Baherjoa had been abandoned, and endeavour to find out the place near the fountain which had served him for a cradle. He was to make inquiry of every living soul he might meet on the road, in order to get information concerning the fate of this precious deposit; and having found him, to carry him to the arms of his tender mother, whom he was to bring with him also to Issessara. But many obstacles stood in the way of these things. The prudent envoy caused the whole desert to be searched, but to no purpose: he did not succeed so well in finding the child as in bringing back the mother.
Kassera, desperately in love with this Princess, could not think of parting with her. On the arrival of the ambassador, with presents from the King of Dineroux, and a commission to bring away the Queen, he felt some struggles in his heart; but love triumphed over them. This imperious passion magnified, in his eyes, the good offices he had done, and made the giving up of a woman seem but a poor return for them. In a word, he renounced the glorious title of a generous protector for that of a base ravisher of the wife of his ally.
Nevertheless, he appeared to receive with gratitude the embassy of Bohetzad, and the presents with which it was accompanied. Meanwhile, he was informed that the auxiliary troops, which he had furnished this monarch, had returned into Persia. The officers who commanded them extolled to the skies the bravery, the abilities, and the magnificence of Bohetzad. They returned from his dominions, delighted with himself, loaded with kindness, and astonished at the power with which he was surrounded, and the resources of the country over which he reigned. These universal reports raised an unusual conflict in the soul of Kassera. He was not accustomed to victory over himself, for, till that moment, he had yielded to every inclination. But he must now either give up a violent passion, or the title of the benefactor of a Sovereign equal to himself in dignity and in power, and that, too, at the hazard of drawing upon Persia the scourge of a cruel war, and of seeing all Asia in dreadful confusion.
"Be ashamed, Kassera," said he to himself, "of the guilty designs you have formed. Return thanks to fortune for the favour it has done you, in opening your eyes to the folly of your conduct. May the King of Dineroux for ever remain ignorant that, forgetting what you owe both to yourself and him, you have dared to covet a blessing which he holds so dear. Remember the benefit you have derived from encountering difficulties which have recalled you to your duty. Oh! absolute power! how much art thou to be dreaded by the man who knows not how to command himself! Allowing myself to be carried away by my desires, I was about to become criminal, and to show myself unworthy to reign. But I know how to check my passions and change my projects."
The King of Persia, having taken this resolution, sent immediately for his principal treasurer, and gave orders that a litter, ornamented with precious stones, and more splendid than had ever been seen, should be prepared to carry Baherjoa into her husband's dominions. A considerable embassy was ordered to follow it, with magnificent presents. In this manner did Baherjoa begin her journey to Syria, after being well assured of respect and attachment by the Sovereign who had now determined to part with her. Bohetzad met his spouse before she entered Issessara. It is impossible to describe the transports of this interview. Yet the tender uneasiness of the mother, respecting the fate of her son, soon disturbed the happiness with which the pair were intoxicated. Baherjoa offered the greatest reward to obtain news of her son, and Bohetzad gave orders that the most minute inquiry should be made. It was by no means probable that he had been devoured by wild beasts, otherwise some remnants would have been found, at the first search, of the clothes wherein he was wrapped. A thousand knights were again dispatched to the desert, and ordered to spread themselves all around the fountain; but their search was in vain. Bohetzad concealed their want of success from his inconsolable spouse, and endeavoured to soften her pain and vexation.
"There is as yet no room for despair," said he to her: "the favour of Heaven, which did not abandon us amidst the dangers to which we have been exposed, and which has restored to us the throne whereon we are now seated, will have preserved the son so dear to our heart. It only withholds him in order to deliver him to us when we shall have merited this favour by our submission to its will. To be deprived of him is grievous, but we are still of an age to expect consolation. Dry up your tears, my dear Baherjoa; they are the torment of my life."
The Queen appeared somewhat more tranquil, but the wound which her heart had received could not be so easily closed.
In the meantime, the tender object of their uneasiness, snatched from the arms of death by the chief of the robbers, and educated by his wife with all the care of the most tender mother, grew in strength and beauty. The leisure of his early youth was filled up by reading and study. He was soon able to engage in those exercises which strengthen the body; he outstripped all the children of the horde by abilities, address, strength, and intrepidity, very surprising at his years. He was also distinguished by an application to study, from which he derived the greatest advantages, and by punctuality in those duties which were required of him by a society little suited to him, but of which chance had made him a member. The chief of these vagabonds, seeing him so expert in the use of arms and in riding, soon associated him with himself in his expeditions against the travellers whom business led into the countries infested by their depredations; and the young Aladin (for this was his name) showed himself as brave as he was expert.
One day the troop attacked a caravan returning from India, and which, as it was loaded with goods of the most valuable kind, a formidable guard defended from danger. The desire of booty prevented the vagabonds from thinking of the danger to which they were exposing themselves. They attacked this convoy with an unusual degree of boldness, but were soon repulsed. Two-thirds of the troop remained on the field of battle, and the rest fled. Aladin, as yet young and inexperienced, drawn on by his valour, was soon surrounded and made prisoner.
When a robber is taken with arms in his hand he ought to be beheaded. But the engaging air, the elegance, and beauty of this young Prince, interested the whole caravan in his favour, and saved him from the common fate. They did not believe the ingenuous replies which he made. When questioned about his birth and profession, he declared himself the son of the chief of the robbers. They could not imagine how this youth should unite so many natural advantages with an air so remarkable. He was carried along with the caravan, which soon arrived at Issessara, where his father Bohetzad held his Court.
The arrival of the caravan afforded a new opportunity of diverting the attention of the Queen, as yet afflicted with the loss of a son, whom she could not banish from her memory. The Sovereign sent the chief of the eunuchs to make choice of such stuffs and valuable articles as might be most agreeable to Baherjoa. The merchants were eager to display them before him; but the figure of Aladin, who was there as a slave, appeared to him so ravishingly beautiful that he attracted his particular attention. He wished to conduct him to the palace, hoping that his service might be agreeable to the monarch; so that, after having purchased what was proper, he returned, together with Aladin, to the palace, where the King appeared satisfied with his bargains.
"Sire," said the eunuch, "your Majesty seems pleased with what I have purchased; but the most beautiful article in the kan was a young man of such complete beauty that I thought him the perfect image of him who is mentioned in the Alcoran, before whom the eleven stars prostrated themselves, as before the sun and the moon."
The King, curious to see this slave, ordered him to be brought with his master, and they both quickly appeared before the King.
The appearance of the young stranger did not belie the favourable character which the chief of the eunuchs had given of him. The King could not believe that so beautiful a slave could owe his birth to a class of men so vulgar as that which composed the caravan. He made inquiry concerning him of their chief, to whom he communicated his doubts on that point.
"Sire," replied the merchant, "this young man does not in reality belong to any of us, and we know neither his family nor origin. We were attacked in the desert by a band of robbers; we defended ourselves with bravery. Part of them remained on the field of battle, the rest fled, and left in our hands the young man who now engages your curiosity. Custom condemned him to death, but we could not think of inflicting it. We asked him concerning his station and family, and he told us that he was the son of the chief of these vagabonds. We know no more of him, and can say nothing more to your Majesty with any degree of certainty."
"Let him be left here," said the King; "I want him to enter into my service."
"Your Majesty," replied the chief, "may dispose as you please of all that belongs to the slaves of your throne."
At that instant Aladin fell at the feet of the monarch, with his face on the ground, and kissed his robe. The King ordered the chief of the eunuchs to admit him into the class of slaves which were most frequently about his person.
Nature spoke in the monarch's heart in favour of his new page. He never saw him without feeling emotions which he could by no means account for. He always wished to have him with him; and that which at first appeared no more than a rising inclination, soon became a very warm attachment. An interest which he felt very strongly made him regard with pleasure the progress both of the young Aladin's mind and body. He admired his application, prudence, discretion, and fidelity, and already considered his rare virtues as the fruit of his cares.
After long experience of his abilities and activity, he went so far as to trust him with the superintendence of his finances, and deprived his Viziers of an administration in which he suspected them. In short, he decided every affair of importance, by submitting it to the sagacity of the young Aladin. The confidence of the Sovereign was not misplaced. The more he trusted the reason and wisdom of his favourite, the more the happiness of his people, the prosperity of the realm, and his revenues were increased. His confidence in a short time knew no bounds. Aladin became as dear to his father as if he had known himself to be so in reality, and the influence of the Viziers was lost in that of the young minister.
Jealous of a power which they had lost, the ten Viziers assembled in secret for the purpose of contriving the means of gratifying their ambition and their avarice. They determined, at any rate, to hasten the ruin of their hated rival; and, unfortunately, he himself seemed to furnish a favourable opportunity for this purpose.
A grand entertainment was given in the palace. Aladin was naturally sober; but, while he sought only to participate in the pleasure of the guests, he indulged himself in drink, with so much the greater security that he was not accustomed to it, and was ignorant of its effects. At the end of the repast he wanted to retire to his own apartment. He staggered, his eyes grew dim, and he lost the use of his senses. The first apartment which came in his way seemed to be made ready for him. It was a very rich one, and lighted by a great number of wax candles set in lustres. But Aladin saw nothing; he only sought repose, and having found a sofa, he threw himself upon it and fell asleep.
There were no slaves there to inform him of his mistake. They were enjoying the feast, and only returned to the apartment, which they had left open, to fill the pots with perfumes, and prepare, according to the custom of the East, a collation of different sherbets and dried sweetmeats. The hangings concealed the sofa on which Aladin lay.
All these preparations being finished, the King and Queen retired to their apartment. Bohetzad approached the sofa, opened the curtains, and beheld his minister stretched upon it and asleep. He was instantly seized with frantic indignation.
"What dreadful behaviour is this of yours?" said he to Baherjoa. "This slave could not have got into your apartment and placed himself there without your knowledge."
"Sire," replied the Queen, in astonishment, but without confusion, "in the name of the great Prophet I swear that I have never spoken to this young man. This is the first time I ever saw him, and in nothing have I encouraged his audacity."
At the noise which was made around the sofa Aladin awoke, surprised and astonished at his situation. He hastily arose.
"Traitor!" said the frantic King to him, "ingrate! is this thy gratitude for my favour? Darest thou enter into my womens' apartment, wretch that thou art? Speedily shalt thou receive the chastisement of thy boldness."
Having said this, Bohetzad, inflamed with rage, ordered the chief of his eunuchs to shut up the minister in prison. The monarch, agitated with the most violent and opposite passions, spent the night without closing his eyes. At daybreak he called to him the first of his Viziers, who had not, for a long time, been admitted into his presence. He told him of the insult which he supposed he had received.
At this recital the Vizier concealed his secret joy. Envy, hatred, and revenge were about to triumph. It was no feeble victim which was offered: it was a most powerful rival whom he had to crush. The old courtier recollected himself. He endeavoured still further to exasperate his Sovereign, and determine him to take distinguished vengeance; and with a humble air he spoke as follows:
"Sire, your faithful subjects were astonished when they saw your confidence bestowed upon an avowed son of a chief of the robbers. It would have been too great an instance of your Majesty's goodness to have admitted the branch of so corrupt a stock near your sacred person. You could expect nothing from him but treachery and crimes."
At this speech of the Vizier, the eyes of the monarch sparkled with rage. Immediately he ordered the young man to be brought before him, loaded with chains.
"Wretch!" said he, as soon as he saw him, "recollect the excess of my favours, and of your ingratitude! Let the recollection of these, and your remorse, be to you the preludes of the punishment that awaits you! Your head is soon to fall upon the scaffold."
The fury and threatening of the King could not change the countenance of the innocent and unfortunate Aladin. No trouble altered the beauty of his features: he preserved that sweet, modest, and firm air which had hitherto gained him the goodwill of the monarch. He began to speak, and ingenuous candour flowed from his lips.
"Sire, my fault was an involuntary one. If an indiscretion on my part reduced me to a situation in which, during some time, I was deprived of the use of reason, so that it was no longer my guide, and allowed me to fall into a very gross mistake, the rest was the work of the cruelty of fate. My heart, overcome by your favours, and entirely devoted to your Majesty, has hitherto felt no pleasure but in the happiness of serving you. But, alas! what avail the best intentions, and all the exertions of zeal, if a superior law, ruling our destiny, can put a different appearance on the purity of the motives by which we are influenced?--if a single action of our life, and that, too, done from the momentary disorder of our senses, can expose us to the apparent guilt of a crime, although all our inclinations are virtuous? Hurried from the summit of happiness into the horrors of disgrace, I must submit to the decree which inflicts the blow, like the merchant, whose memorable story is known even in your Majesty's palace."
"What merchant do you mean?" said the King. "What connection has his story with thy crime? I allow you to relate it."
THE HISTORY OF KASKAS, OR THE UNLUCKY MAN.
Sire, there lived at Bagdad a very wealthy merchant, whose manners and knowledge rendered him worthy of public confidence. His name was Kaskas. Fortune had hitherto seconded his labours so well, that he could boast of success in all his enterprises; but fate soon declared against him. He could now no longer send a commission, or receive a return, without being obliged to make considerable sacrifices. He determined at length to change the nature of his commerce. He sold his stock, and laid out one-half of the money in buying grain, in hopes that this article would rise in its price during the winter. Circumstances, however, were against his speculation, for grain fell in its value. To avoid this loss, he locked up his granaries, determined to wait for a more favourable opportunity. In the meantime, one of his friends having come on a visit to him, wished to persuade him to give up this new kind of commerce in which he was engaged; but he did not listen to this advice, and was obstinately determined to keep his grain a third year. Soon after there happened so violent a storm that the streets and houses of Bagdad suffered by an inundation. When the waters were abated, Kaskas went to see if his corn had received any damage; he found it all springing, and beginning to rot. In order to escape the penalty, it cost him five hundred pieces to get thrown into the river that which he had heaped up in his granaries at a great expense.
His friend returned to him.
"You have neglected," said he, "the advice which I gave you. Distrust fortune, she seems to have sworn against you, and engage in no enterprise without the advice of a skilful astrologer."
There was no scarcity of these in Bagdad; and Kaskas, taught by his ill success, thought the advice of his friend deserved attention. The soothsayer drew out his horoscope, and assured him that his star was so malignant, that he must of necessity lose whatever stock he should hazard in commerce. Kaskas, shocked with a prophecy so contrary to his own inclination, attempted to prove the prediction false. He laid out all the money he had remaining in loading a vessel, and embarked in it with all his wealth.
At the end of four days, during which he had an agreeable voyage, a terrible tempest arose, which broke in pieces the masts and sails, carried away the rudder, and at last sunk the ship, with the whole crew. Kaskas alone, after seeing the remainder of his fortune perish, was saved from shipwreck by a fragment of the vessel, which carried him towards a sandy country, where he landed at length, after much difficulty and fatigue. Tired and naked, he landed in the neighbourhood of a village which was situated on the sea-shore. He hastened thither to implore relief, and return thanks to Heaven for having preserved him from death, while his unfortunate companions had perished.
As he entered this little colony, he met an old man whose features and dress inspired respect and confidence. This man, affected with the situation of Kaskas, covered him with his cloak, and led him to his house, where, after having given such relief as his exhausted strength required, he clothed him in a suitable dress.
It was natural for Kaskas to gratify his landlord's curiosity by the relation of his adventures, and he recounted them with such an air of candour as to leave no doubt of their truth. As this old man had just lost his steward, he judged Kaskas worthy to succeed him, and offered him this new office, with an appointment of two pieces of gold a day. It was a laborious office: he had to sow a considerable quantity of ground, to direct the work and workmen, to gather in immense harvests, to look after the flocks, and to give in accurate and faithful accounts of the whole at the end of the year. The poor Kaskas returned thanks to Providence for thus putting it in his power to earn a subsistence by his labour, since every other resource in the world had failed him; and he immediately entered on the duties of his new place.
These he fulfilled with assiduity, zeal, and knowledge, till the very moment when he was to treasure up the different crops. As his master had never yet given him any part of his wages, he suspected that he would not fulfil his engagements, and, to make sure of his salary, he set apart as much of the grain as would amount to the sum, and shut up all the rest, giving an account of it to his master. The latter received this account, full of confidence in his steward, and paid him all the wages which he owed him, assuring him of the same punctuality in that respect every year. Kaskas was much ashamed of the precautions which he had taken, and of the suspicions which he had allowed himself to entertain.
He immediately returned to the little magazine he had made, in order to repair his injustice, if happily it were still in his power. But what was his surprise when he did not find in it the grain he had set apart! He thought he saw in this theft the punishment of Heaven, and determined to confess the fault of which he had been guilty. With a heart full of grief he returned to his master.
"You appear vexed," said the old man. "What can be the cause of it?"
Then Kaskas, flattering himself that he would obtain by his sincerity the pardon of his fault, made a humble confession of the motive, and all the circumstances of it, even to the carrying off the grain which he had set apart, and of which he had not been able to discover the thieves.
The old man, discovering the marked influence of his steward's malignant star, thought it would be imprudent to keep him any longer in his service, and determined to give him his dismissal immediately.
"We do not suit one another," said he to him; "let us part. But, as it is not just that I should bear the loss of that which you improperly set apart, restore me the money which I gave you, and seek the reward of your labour in the sale of the grain which you took from me. I abandon you."
The unfortunate Kaskas acknowledged the justice of this order: he submitted to it without murmuring, and left the house of his benefactor somewhat less naked than he entered it, but without a single piece of money, and plunged into a deep melancholy.
This sorrowful sport of fortune was thoughtfully walking along the sea-shore, when he perceived a tent, which he approached. He found in it four persons, who, discovering in his countenance, which was otherwise engaging, the traces of deep sorrow, eagerly asked him the cause of it. He gratified their curiosity by the recital of his misfortunes. As he spoke he drew a very marked attention from one of the four, who seemed to have a kind of authority over the other three. This man soon recognized him as one of his correspondents at Bagdad, with whom he had formerly had important and lucrative concerns. The merchant was moved with compassion. At that time he was engaged in an adventure of pearl-fishing, and was the chief of the three divers who were with him.
"Throw yourselves into the sea," said he to them, "and the first take of pearls which you have shall be for this unfortunate traveller."
The three divers, affected as well as their master with the misfortune of Kaskas, threw themselves into the sea, and brought up, in shells which they carried with them, ten pearls of an inestimable value for their size and beauty. The merchant was delighted with the little fortune he had been able to procure for his former correspondent.
"Take these pearls," said he to him; "sell two of them when you arrive in the capital, and their price will be sufficient for any adventure in which you may be inclined to engage; but take particular care of the other eight, that they may serve you in the time of need, and sell them where you can do it to the greatest advantage."
Kaskas, after thanking his benefactor, departed, and took the road which he was directed to follow in his way to the capital. He had been three days on his journey, when he perceived at a distance some people on horseback. Afraid lest they should be robbers, he hid eight of the pearls betwixt the two cloths of his vest, and put into his mouth the two others which he proposed to sell. He was not wrong in his conjecture concerning the persons he had seen--they were in reality robbers. They came up to him, surrounded him, and stripped him; and in this situation they left him on the road, with nothing but a single pair of drawers.
The unfortunate traveller recognized in this new feature of fortune the effect of the evil destiny which pursued him. Meanwhile, he congratulated himself on having been able to save from the hands of the rascals the two most beautiful pearls, which were sufficient to re-establish his affairs and assist him in some lucrative adventure. The capital was not far distant. He arrived there, and entrusted to the Dellal the two pearls which remained, to expose them for sale. The Dellal proclaimed the jewels with a loud voice in the market, and invited the curious to bid for them. Unfortunately, some days before there had been some pearls stolen from one of the richest jewellers in the city. He thought he recognized some of his own in those which were set up to sell, and demanded that the pretended owner of the jewels should appear. When he saw him so ill dressed he was convinced he had found the thief.
"There are two pearls," said he to him, "but you ought to have ten: what have you done with the other eight?"
Kaskas, thinking the jeweller had been informed of the present that the fisher had made him, ingenuously replied, "I had ten of them, it is true; but some robbers whom I met on the road have carried off the other eight in the lining of my waistcoat, where I had concealed them."
On this confession, which appeared to the jeweller an acknowledgment of guilt, he took Kaskas by the hand and carried him before the civil magistrate, accusing him of having stolen his pearls. This judge, led away by appearances, and on the declaration of the rich citizen, condemned the poor Kaskas to the bastinado, and to imprisonment as long as his accuser should be pleased to detain him in custody. This unhappy creature, the sport of fortune and of men's injustice, underwent the punishment, and was forced, during a whole year, to groan under the rigour of a severe confinement, till at length chance brought a man of his acquaintance into the same prison. This was one of the three divers in the Persian Gulf, whose labour appeared to have been so profitable to him.
The diver, surprised to see him in this situation, asked the cause of it. Kaskas related to him all that had happened since they parted. This new confidant immediately addressed a petition to the King, in which he implored the favour of being admitted into his presence, that he might communicate to him a secret of the utmost importance. The King caused the diver to be brought before him. He prostrated himself; and the King, after having made him rise up, ordered him to communicate the secret which he was to reveal.
"Great King," said the diver, "the greatness of your Majesty's soul, and your love of justice, are known to all your subjects. I venture, this day, to call upon these sublime virtues, in favour of an unhappy innocent stranger, who has suffered an unjust punishment for a crime which he did not commit, and who is still confined in the same dungeon in which I have been shut up for a trifling fault. You love, sire, to punish the wicked; but it is with the spirit of equity, and for the maintenance of good order. Your Majesty would wish that the wolf and the lamb should walk together securely; and it is the duty of your slave to co-operate with your benevolent intentions, by putting it in your power to repair an injustice committed against a man, persecuted by his evil destiny, and worthy of your compassion."
He then entered into a minute detail of the adventure of Kaskas with regard to the pearls. He showed him the circumstance which had led the jeweller into a mistake, and occasioned the ignorance of the judge; in fine, he added, "If your Majesty still suspects the truth of my recital, you may cause the chief of the fishery, and my companions the divers, to be interrogated concerning it."
The diver, having no interest in a matter that concerned only an unfortunate and helpless man, spoke with that boldness and openness which truth inspires. In the end, the monarch was convinced of the innocence of the unfortunate Kaskas, and ordered the chief of the eunuchs to set him at liberty, conduct him to the bath, and, after having clothed him decently, to bring him into his presence.
The eunuch obeyed. Kaskas was led to the feet of the Sovereign, where he confirmed the report of the diver. He told the fruitless efforts he had made to undeceive the jeweller and remove the prejudice of the judge. In a word, by the detail of all his adventures, he interested the King so much, that he obtained from him, that instant, a lodging in the palace, and a place of trust near his person, with great appointments.
As to the jeweller, after being obliged to restore the pearls, he was sentenced to receive two hundred strokes of the bastinado: the judge received double that number, and was deposed from his office. Kaskas, loaded with favours, thought fate reconciled to him for ever. He took pleasure in hardening himself against his bad fortune, and was already arranging the plans of that success which he promised himself in the new office which he filled, when his curiosity laid a new snare for him.
He discovered one day in the apartment which was allotted to him a door covered up with a thin coat of plaster, which, from age, fell to dust at the smallest touch. It required no effort to force this passage--the door opened of itself. He entered, without reflecting, into a rich apartment, to which he was an entire stranger, and found himself, without knowing it, in the middle of the palace.
Scarcely had he made one step when the chief of the eunuchs observed him, and without delay informed the King of it. The monarch instantly came. The fragments of the plaster, which were still upon the ground, appeared a proof that the door had been forced, and the astonishment of Kaskas carried a complete conviction of his guilt.
"Unhappy man!" said the King to him, "is it thus you acknowledge my favours and your obligations? My justice saved you when I believed you innocent: guilty now, it condemns you to lose your sight."
The imprudent man, without daring to attempt any justification, was instantly delivered over to the executioner, asking no other favour than that they would put into his hands the eyes which were to be torn out.
He carried them in his hand as he walked groping through the streets of the capital.
"Behold," said he, "O ye who hear me, that which the unfortunate Kaskas hath gained by hardening himself against the decrees of his evil destiny, and despising the advice of his friends! Behold the lot of the obstinate!"
Aladin having thus finished the history of the merchant, addressed himself directly to Bohetzad.
"Sire, you have seen the effect of fortune's influence on the man whose adventures I have now related. So long as his star was propitious, he succeeded in everything; but whenever it changed, his efforts to correct its malignity were fruitless. The transient instances of success which seemed to arrest the current of his misfortunes soon plunged him into greater evils than those which he had escaped. Circumstances that were unforeseen, and steps that were innocent, gave him the appearance of ingratitude and guilt, even when everything assured him of the purity of his conduct. My lot, alas! is but too like that of his."
The young man had related the adventures of the unfortunate merchant of Bagdad so naturally and with so much grace, and had made so happy an application of them, that Bohetzad, still disposed to favour a criminal whom he had loved so well, and moved by the instance of rash judgment which he had just heard, put off the execution which he had ordered till the day following, under pretence of its being too late for it then.
"Return to thy prison," said he to him. "I grant thee thy life till to-morrow: I put off till that time the punishment that is justly due to thee."
