Part 9

Thereupon the old man led her to his home. He lived somewhere in the immediate neighborhood, not at all far off, in the grotto of a high, high rock where he nourished himself with the milk of wild goats and with dates. With the greatest pleasure he placed before her his whole stock of provisions, brought her a pitcher of water, carefully arranged the sofa of leaves and inviting her to take a good rest, he went out. Having refreshed herself, Roussoudanna began to watch him most attentively through the gate of the grotto and there she saw that he had walked a little way off and then had fallen on his knees and begun to pray. She witnessed how his good, kindly face suddenly lit up with some marvellous, perfectly heavenly, happy, and joyful expression, and she ardently desired to find out from the poor, but grand old man, what this sudden, really indescribable joy meant in the course of his long, laborious, honorable life.

At last the old man finished his fervent prayer and began to gather dates; having got together a huge pile, he gayly carried them into the grotto. The guest met him at the entrance.

"I thought that perhaps you would not have enough to eat with just those dates which you found in my poor dwelling house," said the kind-hearted host, turning to her, "and see here, I am bringing thee some more still," and he put down the deliciously sweet fruits right before her.

Roussoudanna, perfectly astounded by such unusual and unheard of goodness and thoughtfulness, thanked the old man with tears in her eyes.

"What does thy painful grief consist in?" he asked--and continued thus: "It is possible that the needs of life have been weighing down on thee?"

"Oh no, wise, dear old man, I have never known what it is to be in need."

"Well then, did not some severe illness pull thee down and mercilessly deprive thee of thy strength?"

"I am in perfect health and have a strong constitution."

"Perhaps some dreadful worries did not give thee rest."

A (the woman). B (the hermit).

A: "I really have nothing to be worried about."

B: "Then did not regularly and faithfully carried out duties exhaust thee?"

A: "No, dear hermit, for I was living in a fairy-land palace from which the following torments were entirely excluded: need, worry, work, and illness."

B: "Worldly attractions and habits may have led thee off the good track and restrained thy liberty?"

A: "We were by no means subjected to any such rules, nor even to etiquette."

B: "It is possible that the laws of your palace were extremely severe and therefore made you feel very depressed?"

A: "But really, we acknowledged no laws."

B: "Well then, perhaps the wealthy proprietor of the palace abused his might and compelled you to do certain disagreeable things which were unjustifiable?"

A: "Not in the least, for Astkchicka was sole mistress and administrator of the palace."

B: "There now remains but one supposition, viz., that she united such people as would naturally perfectly hate one another?"

A: "Why, not at all, we all gathered around her in the mighty name of love."

B: "Ah, aha, I understand the matter," the old man unexpectedly broke out, "you came together over there in the name of love and it is most strikingly evident that there is some defect about your love."

A: "Thou art wrong, old man," energetically rang out of Roussoudanna's mouth as she suddenly interrupted him. "I can bear witness and prove that nobody ever and so strongly loved his dear ones as I loved my excellent darling Naboukodonozor!"

The grave hermit glanced at her quite differently--yes, suspiciously. "My child," was his brief reply, "that which the idol worshippers falsely call love, is by no means that holy feeling which we understand under that term. Their love is one of those innumerable examples of self-worship and vanity."

Roussoudanna's face was all red from blushing, while her eyes were filled with tears.

"Oh no, that cannot be so," she exclaimed with a trembling voice, "with the greatest joy would I suffer any possible privations, every imaginable torture, in order to give him pleasure and satisfy his desires."

The hermit sighed deeply. "Is it possible then," he said with a doubtful, inquiring tone, "if thou dost indeed truly love thy fellow men and women, that nobody in this wide world is either capable or strong enough to put an end to thy unhappiness? Relate to me now what the real source of thy misfortune came from and in what manner it was able to assume such tremendous dimensions."

"Naboukodonozor, whom I love more than anybody or anything in the world, got to loving another woman!"

"Well, what of it?" quietly asked the old man, "is this the only cause of thy great sorrow? How can one call it unhappiness if this made his fortune and rendered him contented?"

"Some would have thought that she might like such a course of events instead of regretting it."

"What is the matter with thee, O wise hermit?" She was perfectly overwhelmed with joy!

"Now, my dear woman, rely ye simply on me, for I will undertake to explain it all right to thee, as for me, it was a source of sorrow and doubt."

"O thou remarkable man, dost thou really not understand that for me this circumstance was worse than all the tortures of poison?"

"But thou only just a short time ago didst assure me that the very height of happiness for thee was to stand every privation, nay, all sufferings, simply in order to give him pleasure and act in accordance with his wishes and aims."

Thereupon the hermit again opened his mouth and sang songs of praise and thankfulness unto God, the Almighty Master of Heaven and earth; and see! his happiness was founded on love, but on love to a being, a being which was perfect. He always submitted his love to the righteous laws of God; this was not a senseless inspiration, but an action free of any earthly, foolish bonds, of elevated and religious aims and seeking nothing but rest and comfort for the moment--going always by the road of honesty, truth and veneration of all that is upright and good!

His love was trying to perfect itself, approach if possible that greatest example of utmost perfection which was shown to us by our Lord Jesus Christ.

"Happiness is a sweet, sweet little flower," said he, "which is quite unable to grow among unrighteousness, unfairness and wilfulness--only by the lawful way of Christian love to God, veneration and love to his neighbors, can he strive to live properly and give those magnificent fragrant flowers, for which you are all constantly looking and which you are as yet unable to find. Following out the orders of my God it will be easy to find happiness, for His perfect and most merciful laws restrain the will of the individual man only there, where it proves necessary for his thrift and condition in general. Thou, it is true, didst live in a fairy-land palace, from which all illnesses, needs, worries, and labors had been excluded. You did not fear nor obey any legal authorities, nor laws, nor customs. It was love that firmly united you all. Well, tell me then, were you indeed happy and successful?"

"Oh! no, not at all!" answered Roussoudanna. And once more the old man tenderly addressed her and convinced Roussoudanna, baptized her, and taking a staff, at the top of which a cross was reproduced, he went off with her to the fairy-land palace. Reaching the rivulet they beheld Nebrotk gathering the necessary fruit. With despair and terror did he inform them that Astkchicka now considered Naboukodonozor her husband, while he was forced to serve his rival and nobody paid any attention to--yes, had utterly forgotten the existence of Roussoudanna. Then she asked him to sit down and told the inhabitant of the castle all that had happened to her, and in her young voice the speech about perfect endless and eternal love sounded still more convincing. Love is eternal when it is well planned and arranged, it is endless if free of sin and perfect if subjected to the almighty laws of the eternal God, Father of Heaven and earth.

All were deeply impressed, and now the hermit continued the speech and told them about the all-powerful strength of God, before whose serene appearance all false, worthless gods take to flight, and about His extreme wisdom and knowledge, rapidity of decision, mercifulness and righteousness, and see! Nebrotk immediately wished to be converted and baptized. At the end of his powerful and persuasive discourse, the old man simply touched the fairy-land palace with his staff and in a few seconds it completely disappeared like an apparition. Then he instructed Nebrotk and Roussoudanna in real Christian love and in the obligations of married life and then performed for both the wedding ceremony, and having fervently prayed to the Creator they all together went to work erecting a perfectly new log house for the young married couple, in which the happy mortals passed many blissful years, writing down the stories and tales of the various travellers. Some of them I shall perhaps tell you of another time. To my sorrow my memory did not preserve that artistic, yes, clever way of relating, which this little collection of legends more and more clearly explains to one--bringing us over and over again to the great truth.

"Happiness is within us." The imperfection of Nebrotk and Roussoudanna came at first from the imperfection of their mutual love, which loves itself as much as the beloved. Then, however, gradually as they were taught to love their neighbor more than themselves, yes to love him so much as not to offend each other and not grumble and growl over little defects and mishaps which regarded their personalities alone and from which the neighbors should not suffer, did they teach themselves and conceive how well it was to rejoice over the blissfulness of others, to think only about others, to wish to seek pleasure and happiness only for others and to put all their energy and delight in the contentment and comfort of others; this great happiness finally made its beneficent way into their souls and admitting everything they said.

"Happiness is within us--" and then they needed no more fairy-land castle, from which all cares, illnesses, needs, and labors were banished. They found time and also strength to live an actual and true life among all its turmoils and difficulties, to know how to guarantee one's shining happiness, and then they heard not the fairy-land song of the flowers, the fragrant song of the youngsters saved by them for a joyful, diligent, and Christian life, and they rejoiced in the song of thankful young people, who by their example of love, had been saved from many a sorrow and suffering. These young people had thoroughly learned how to live a happy life and this chorus did not stop as long as they lived on earth.

VII. THE TRIBUTE OF ROSES

A LEGEND

In our most blessed and favored country, where the sun shines so brightly, where the flowers have such a sweet, sweet fragrance, where the birds sing so melodiously, long ago in bygone times, when neither I nor my father nor my forefathers had been born, there lived a young and splendid couple in the Aule of Mokde [Note of the Translator: Aule is the common term for a very small village or rather mountain hamlet in the Caucasus.] They were always most hospitable and everybody praised them, but the Lord, who always delights in seeing the religious and the poor well treated, fully rewarded them and abundantly furnished them with rich presents, thus clearly showing them his appreciation for their good deeds. They had everything that could be desired: youth, beauty, good health, riches, and reputation, they sincerely loved one another and their inner happiness was as great as their outer appearance and great success. Their children were healthy, clever, good and lovely to look at. Their elder son, little Timitch, distinguished himself especially through his strength and ability; he was endowed with most fiery eyes, once sparkling like flashes of lightning, then again as soft and innocent as the eyes of a young mountain goat.

For nine years the happy husband and wife lived thus, when suddenly between the aules of Mokde and Khamki a very bloody strife ensued and led to much destruction of life and property. During this strife, when the father of Timitch was mercilessly killed as well as his brothers and sisters, while the mother was taken prisoner and led off as a captive, Timitch himself was saved by some inexplicable wonder and soon became the favorite and greatest pride of the whole aule. In the meantime his mother, who was still a beautiful and youthful woman [in our country the women can be married at the early age of twelve] was sold and taken away to Turkey, where her wonderful appearance was the chief ornament of the Sultan's harem. In this select collection of beautiful and highly attractive women, her good looks and sweet disposition cast a dark shadow over all the rest--just as our bright sun dims all other planets.

The Sultan got perfectly wild with delight over her, and he incessantly showered most precious weavings, gorgeous carpets and splendid stones of one color and priceless shawls--in a word everything that the rich, rich East could produce lay at her graceful feet. Nevertheless in the midst of all these flatteries and endless temptations she always remained faithful to her husband. It needed a marvellous mind and character like hers, while utterly refusing to fulfil the wishes of the Sultan, to still remain the governess of his heart and the immediate object of his kind and thoughtful attention. In these proceedings a lucky circumstance firmly assisted her--viz., the fact that she had been preparing herself to become a mother already four months before, when she happened to be taken prisoner. The loving and enchanted Sultan decided to patiently await the birth of the baby, which was foreign to him, and then marry his unusual captive, who was of royal blood and thus fully had the right to be an empress. The nearer she approached the time when a child should be born, the gayer the future Sultana became, so that those surrounding her really imagined that she had forgotten her husband. But oh, how terribly mistaken they were! Indeed, the eventful day came and a daughter Tousholi was born.

When they brought her the baby she long looked at it and tears came in floods out of her magnificent eyes, afterwards she made the sign of the cross on it and gave orders that it should be carried off.

"Call Samson to me," she said. Samson was the eunuch, given and attached to her personal service by the Sultan and who had faithfully done his duty by her side. She knew how to win his esteem and confidence, especially as he was himself a Christian (of course quite secretly). When he arrived she ordered him to take up the opakalo (probably a kind of Eastern fan) and protect her, while sleeping, from uncomfortable and noisy flies; but she did not want to sleep--this was simply a sly device to make everybody leave her apartment and get out. She profited by this occasion to tell Samson the following facts:

"Samson, to thee I trust the new-born daughter Tousholi, promise me if possible secretly to make a Christian of her, as sincere and earnest in her belief as thou thyself. Among all these unbelievers thou wert not a slave to me, but a true and faithful friend and a tender and thoughtful brother. By the almighty mercifulness of God I am destined to live not much longer, for I hope to-day already to be able to unite myself with my dear husband, while thee I ask to take the place of this dear orphan's parents. Thou knowest my whole history, my strength does not enable me to speak to thee as freely as I should like. For the sake of the outward appearance I shall leave Tousholi nominally to the care of the Sultan, and I am convinced that at first everything will go right with you. When, however, your situation changes, I hope indeed that you may find means to return to Mokde and look up my first-born child, whose natural obligation it is to be the powerful protector of his defenceless sister and her very aged educator, but now give me my little kindjall (Caucasian dagger)--fear nothing, I shall not cut myself open, for I have not even the strength to do that."

Samson placed in her now feeble hands the handsomely ornamented little kindjall, artistically decorated with precious stones and fastened to a most gorgeous girdle. This was the wedding present of her husband and she never left it out of her sight. The submissive old man, through his tears beheld how the face of the sick woman suddenly lit up and how, her eyes flashing with some extraordinary fire, she bravely pulled the little kindjall out of the sheath and put its thin blade, which was as sharp as the tongue of a snake, up to her lovely mouth.

"She sincerely kisses it," thought Samson, and quieted himself; but the precious little kindjall had yet another resemblance with the tongue of a snake, of which the faithful servant knew nothing. It was indeed poisoned!

Having heroically swallowed the deadly poison, the sick woman commanded Samson to instantly inform the Sultan that she desired to see him. The all-powerful adorer of this Christian heroine immediately made his appearance and was utterly distressed when he saw the signs of approaching death already marked on her magnificent features. In his anger against those standing about, he threatened them with perfectly atrocious punishment if they did not that moment find doctors able to bring his favorite back to life. In the meantime with a weak but expressive and comprehensible movement of her hand, the patient showed that she desired to be left alone with him. All the rest disappeared in a second and she broke out thus:

"My minutes are counted, I am dying, not paying you back in any way for your innumerable marks of kindness to me, and nevertheless I wish to ask yet another favor of you: be a father to my new-born daughter! It is my firm and irrevocable wish that my true and ever-faithful Samson shall stay by her and bring her up in none but my own dear religion; when, however, you are tired of her, simply send them to Mokde to my son Timitch, and even if he be no longer living, I am fully convinced that the excellent daughter of my loving husband will always find protectors and friends among the good and kindly inhabitants of Mokde." With these serene words she breathed her last breath. The tremendous fury and utter despair of the Sultan went beyond any description. The court body-doctor and the arifa (i.e., the lady who administrates the harem) were hung without delay, but Samson and his sweet little pupil were given very fine and expensive apartments with magnificent board.

Every ten days the old man was obliged to bring little Tousholi to the Sultan, who having tenderly caressed her and given riches to the faithful servant, let them retire, giving the strictest orders that those who surrounded them should never hinder, trouble, or disturb them in any way. Thus three long years easily went by. The childish features of the face of Tousholi now acquired a most striking resemblance with the marvellously beautiful features of her late mother. The courtiers began to notice repeatedly that the Sultan after a time had fallen in love with her, was earnestly reflecting about something and frequently sighing. Thus the visits, which used to last but a few minutes, now became very long indeed, while little Tousholi, with her childish caresses, gained the affection of the Sultan more and more. Immediately two parties sprang up: the first, wishing to make Tousholi their excellent instrument in order to get the upper hand and overrule the Sultan, and thus naturally, constantly and unceasingly chanting her praises and flattering her to the skies; the second, which had resolved to make her perish and from this reason never letting one occasion go by without trying to snap at her and pull her down from her exalted position.

During the fearful struggle of these two desperate parties, Tousholi's childhood went by and she was already a grown-up maiden, when the kind-hearted Sultan died. His successor by chance belonged to the dangerous and inimical party, and so the sharp and careful Samson began to energetically demand to be allowed to go away to Mokde. The permission to start for the home journey was given with great joy and satisfaction, and very soon they had already arrived at Mokde. Here there was no difficulty in finding out Timitch. He was known by young and old alike. The old servant silently took from Tousholi's baggage that precious girdle with the kindjall, which he had handed to her mother just a few hours before her untimely death and passed it to Timitch, drawing his attention to a splendid all-sparkling round tablet. On it were inscribed the dear names of his glorious parents.

"This is the remarkable girdle which was always around the waist of my all-beloved mother!" cried out the youth.

"Well, say now I prythee where is she staying? How can I possibly reward thee--oh, thou grand old man? Art thou sent by her?"

"I verily came to this memorable village by her sacred will," reverently answered Samson. "While dying she ordered me to lead thy sister to thee and hand her over to thy mighty care and protection."

"What, my sister? Well, well, is it possible that not all sisters and brothers perished together with their splendid father?"

Saying this he closely looked at the young girl and was evidently struck and impressed by her perfectly unusual beauty.

"The resemblance with your mother ought to be sufficient to convince you of the truth of my words."

Afterwards innumerable questions and answers were mutually exchanged. The old man and Tousholi settled down in the house of Timitch and Samson heartily rejoiced, seeing soon how the youngsters became friends. But nevertheless there was nothing to rejoice about! The twenty-year-old Timitch, fiery, not given to reflections, unaccustomed to restrain himself in any way, was entertaining such intentions as would make Samson's hair stand on end if he thoroughly understood their meaning. What is there strange in the fact that the twelve-year-old Tousholi was unable to guess at the thoughts of her brother and firmly trusted him in everything with all her simple childish sincerity of soul. The passionate attraction of Timitch grew not with days, but with hours, and once during a promenade, without being at all disturbed by the presence of grave old Samson, he actually went as far as to tell her of his peculiar intentions.

Samson, astonished and disapproving the plan, threw himself in between the young people and was stupefied when seeing a dagger pointed towards him, but the terrified Tousholi speedily hid herself near a precipice. Seeing the immediate danger, the dying faithful Samson cursed the wicked and lawless boy, and lo! suddenly a great wonder took place.