Part 2

Noureddin came not in sight all that day; and, not daring to hide himself among his companions, lest his father should search their houses for him, he went a little way out of town, and took sanctuary in a garden where he had never been before, and where his person was utterly unknown. It was very late when he came back, being willing to stay till his father was a-bed, and then his mother’s women opening the door very softly, let him in without any manner of noise. The next morning he went out before his father was stirring; and thus for a whole month was he put to his shifts, which was a terrible mortification to him. Indeed the women never flattered him, but told him plainly his father’s anger was as great as ever, and if he came in his sight he would certainly kill him.

Though the vizier’s lady was informed by her women of Noureddin’s lying every night in the house, yet she durst not presume to entreat her husband to pardon him. At last, one day, says she to him; I have hitherto been silent, not daring to take the liberty of talking to you about your son; but now give me leave to ask you what you design to do with him. Indeed it is impossible for a son to be more criminal towards a father than Noureddin has been towards you; he has robbed you of the honour and satisfaction of presenting the king with a slave so accomplished as the Fair Persian: but, after all, are you absolutely resolved to destroy him; and, instead of a light evil, draw upon yourself a far greater than perhaps you imagine at present? Are you not afraid that the world, which spitefully inquires after the reason of your son’s absconding, should find out the true cause which you are so desirous of keeping secret? and if that should happen, you would justly fall into a misfortune which it is so much your interest to avoid.

Madam, said the vizier, there is abundance of sound reasoning in what you have urged: however, I cannot think of pardoning Noureddin till I have humbled him a little more. He shall be sufficiently mortified, replied the lady, if you will put in execution what is just come into my mind. You must know, then, your son comes hither every night after you are a-bed; he lies here, and steals out every morning before you are stirring: you shall wait for his coming in to-night; make as if you designed to kill him; upon which I will run to his assistance, and when he finds his life entirely owing to my prayers and entreaties, you may oblige him to take the Fair Persian on what condition soever you please. He loves her, and I am sensible the fair slave has no aversion for him.

Khacan was very willing to make use of this stratagem: so, when Noureddin came at the usual hour, before the door was opened, he placed himself behind it: as soon as ever he entered, he rushed suddenly upon him, and got him down under his feet. Noureddin, lifting up his head, saw his father with a dagger in his hand, ready prepared to stab him.

At that very instant, in came his mother, and, catching hold of the vizier’s arm, Sir, cried she, what are you a-doing? Let me alone, replied the vizier, that I may kill this base unworthy son. You shall kill me first, cried the mother; nor will I suffer you to imbrue your hands in your own blood: speak to him, Noureddin, speak to him, and improve this tender moment. My father, cried he, with tears in his eyes, I implore your clemency and compassion; nor must you deny me pardon, since I ask it in His name before whom we must all appear at the last day.

Khacan suffered the poniard to be taken out of his hand; and as soon as Noureddin was released, he threw himself at his father’s feet, and kissed them, to show how sincerely he repented of his having ever offended him. Noureddin, said he, return your mother thanks, since it is purely for her sake I pardon you. I design also to give you the Fair Persian, on condition that you will oblige yourself by an oath not to look upon her any longer as a slave, but as your wife, that you will not sell her, nor ever be divorced from her; for, having abundance of wit and prudence, besides much better conduct than you, I am persuaded she will be able to moderate those rash sallies of youth which are enough to ruin you.

Noureddin, who little expected to be treated after so kind and indulgent a manner, returned his father a thousand thanks, with all the gratitude and sincerity imaginable; and, in the conclusion, the vizier, the Fair Persian, and he, were well pleased and satisfied with the match.

The vizier Khacan would not stay in expectation of the king’s asking him about the order he had given him, but took particular care to mention it often, in representing to his majesty the many difficulties he met with in that affair, and how fearful he was of not acquitting himself to his majesty’s satisfaction. In short, he managed the business with so much cunning and address, that the king insensibly forgot it; and, though Saouy had got some small information of the matter, yet Khacan was so much in the king’s favour, that he was afraid to speak of it.

It was now above a year that this nice affair had been kept with greater secrecy than at first the vizier expected; when, being one day in the bath, and some important business obliging him to leave it all in a sweat, the air, which was then a little moist, struck a damp to his breast, caused a defluxion of rheum to fall upon his lungs, which threw him into a violent fever, and confined him to his bed. His illness growing every day worse, and perceiving he had but a few moments to live, he thus addressed himself to his son Noureddin, who never stirred from him during his whole sickness: My son, I know not whether I have made a good use of the riches Heaven has blessed me with, but you see they are not able to save me from the hands of death: the last thing I desire of you, with my dying breath, is, that you would be mindful of the promise you made concerning the Fair Persian; and, with a certainty of that, I shall die pleased and well contented.

These were the vizier’s last words; who, dying a few moments after, left his family, the court, and the whole city in great affliction for his death. The king lamented him, as having lost a wise, zealous, and faithful minister; and the whole city wept for him as their protector and benefactor. Never was there a funeral at Balsora solemnized with greater pomp and magnificence; the viziers and emirs, and, in general, all the grandees of the court, strove for the honour of bearing his coffin, one after another, upon their shoulders to the place of burial; and both rich and poor accompanied him thither with tears.

Noureddin gave all the demonstration of a sorrow equal to the loss he had lately sustained, and lived a great while without ever seeing any company. At last, he admitted of a visit from an intimate friend of his. His friend endeavoured to comfort him all he could; and, finding him a little inclinable to hear reason, he told him, that, having paid what was due to the memory of his father, and fully satisfied all that custom and decency required of him, it was now high time to appear again in the world to converse with his friends, and maintain a character suitable to his birth and merit: For, continued he, we should sin both against the laws of nature and civility, and be thought insensible, if, upon the death of our fathers, we neglected to pay them what filial love and tenderness require at our hands; but having once performed that duty, and put it out of the power of any man to reproach us upon that account, we are obliged to return to our usual method of living. Dry up your tears then, and re-assume that wonted air of gaiety which always inspires with joy those that have the honour of your conversation.

This advice seeming very reasonable to Noureddin, he was easily persuaded to follow it; and, if he had been ruled by his friend in every thing, he would certainly have avoided all the misfortunes that afterwards befell him. He treated him very nobly; and, when he took his leave, Noureddin desired him to come the next day, and bring three or four friends of their acquaintance. By this means he insensibly fell into the society of about ten young gentlemen, pretty near his own age, with whom he spent his time in continual feasting and entertainments; and scarce a day came over his head but he made every one of them some considerable present.

Sometimes, to oblige his friends after a more particular manner, Noureddin would send for the Fair Persian to entertain them; who, notwithstanding her obedience to his command, never approved of his extravagant way of living, and often took the liberty of speaking her mind freely. Sir, said she, I question not but your father has left you abundance of riches; but, how great soever they are, be not angry with your slave for telling you that, at this rate of living, you will quickly see an end of them. We may indeed sometimes afford to treat our friends, and be merry with them; but, to make a daily practice of it, is certainly the high road to ruin and destruction. Therefore, for your own honour and reputation, you would do much better to follow the footsteps of your deceased father, that, in time, you may rise to that dignity by which he acquired so much glory and renown.

Noureddin hearkened to the fair Persian’s discourse with a smiling countenance; and, when she had done, My charmer, said he, with the same air of mirth, say no more of that; let us talk of nothing but mirth and pleasure. In my father’s lifetime I was always under restraint, and I am now resolved to enjoy the liberty I so much sighed for before his death. It is time enough for me to think of leading a sober regular life; and a man of my age ought to taste the pleasures of youth.

What contributed very much towards ruining Noureddin’s fortune, was his unwillingness to reckon with his steward; for, whenever he brought in his accounts, he still sent him away without examining them. Go, go, said he, I trust wholly to your honesty; therefore only take care to let me have wherewith to make merry.

You are the master, sir, replied he, and I but the steward; however, you would do well to think upon the proverb, He that spends much and has but little, must at last insensibly be reduced to poverty. You are not contented with keeping an extravagant table, but you must lavish away your estate with both hands: and were your coffers as large as mountains, they would not be sufficient to maintain you. Begone, replied Noureddin; your grave lessons are needless; only take care to provide good eating and drinking, and trouble your head no farther about the rest.

In the mean time Noureddin’s friends were constant guests at his table, and never failed making some advantage of the easiness of his temper. They praised and flattered him, extolling his most indifferent actions to the very skies. But, above all, they took particular care to commend whatever belonged to him and his; and this, they found, turned to some account. Sir, says one of them, I came the other day by your estate that lies in such a place: certainly there is nothing so magnificent, or so handsomely furnished, as your house; and the garden belonging to it is a paradise upon earth. I am very glad it pleases you, says Noureddin. Here, bring me pen, ink, and paper: but, without more words, it is at your service, and I make you a present of it. No sooner had others commended his house, baths, and some public buildings erected for the use of strangers, the yearly revenue of which was very considerable, than he immediately gave them away. The Fair Persian could not forbear letting him know how much injury he did himself; but, instead of taking any notice of it, he continued his extravagances, and, upon the first opportunity, squandered away the little he had left.

In short, Noureddin did nothing for a whole year together, but feasted and made himself merry, wasting and consuming, after a prodigal manner, the riches that his predecessors, and the good vizier his father, had, with so much pains and care, heaped together and preserved.

The year was but just expired, when somebody one day knocked at the hall door, where he and his friends were at dinner together by themselves, having sent away their slaves, that they might enjoy a greater liberty and freedom of conversation.

One of his friends offered to rise, but Noureddin stepped before him, and opened the door himself. It seems it was the steward; and Noureddin going a little out of the hall to know his business, left the door half open.

The friend that offered to rise from his seat, seeing it was the steward, and being somewhat curious to know what he had to say to Noureddin, placed himself between the hangings and the door, where he plainly overheard the steward’s discourse to his master. Sir, said the steward, I ask a thousand pardons for my coming to disturb you in the height of your joys; but this affair is of such importance, that I thought myself bound in duty to acquaint you with it. I come, sir, to make up my last accounts, and to tell you that what I all along foresaw, and have often warned you of, is at last come to pass. Behold, sir, says he, (showing him a small piece of money,) the remainder of all the sums I have received from you during my stewardship; the other funds you were pleased to assign me are all exhausted. The farmers, and those that owe you rent, have made it so plainly appear to me that you have assigned over to others whatever remains in their hands due to you, that it is impossible for me to get any more from them upon your account. Here are my books; if you please, examine them: and if you think fit to continue me in the place I am now in, order me some other funds, or else give me leave to quit your service. Noureddin was so astonished at this discourse, that he gave him no manner of answer.

The friend who had been listening all this while, and had heard every syllable of what the steward said, immediately came in and told the company what he had lately overheard. It is your business, gentlemen, says he, to make use of this caution; for my part, I declare it openly to you, this is the last visit I design to make Noureddin. Nay, replied they, if matters go thus, we have as little business here as you; and, for the future, shall take care not to trouble him with our company.

Noureddin returned presently after; yet, notwithstanding his carrying it pleasantly to his guests, by putting them into a merry humour again, he could not so handsomely dissemble the matter but they plainly perceived the truth of what they had been informed of. He was scarce sat down in his place, when one of his friends rose up, saying, Sir, I am sorry I cannot have the honour of your company any longer; and, therefore, I hope you will excuse my rudeness of leaving you so soon. What urgent affair have you, replied Noureddin, that obliges you to be going? My wife, sir, said he, was brought to bed to-day, and upon such an occasion, you know a husband’s company is very acceptable; so, making a very low bow, away he went. A minute afterwards, a second took his leave upon another sham excuse; and so one after another, till at last not one of those ten friends that had hitherto kept Noureddin company, was left in the room.

As soon as they were gone, Noureddin, little suspecting the resolution they had made of never visiting him, went directly to the Fair Persian’s apartment, to whom, in private, he related all the steward had told him, and seemed extremely concerned at the ill posture of his affairs. Sir, said the Fair Persian to him, you would never take my advice, but always managed your concerns after your own way, and now you see the fatal consequences of it. I find I was not mistaken, when I presaged to what a miserable condition you would bring yourself at last; but what afflicts me the more, is, that at present you do not see the worst of your misfortunes. Whenever I presumed freely to impart my thoughts to you, Let us be merry, said you, and in pleasures improve the time that fortune has kindly given us; perhaps she will not always be so prodigal of her favours. But was I now to blame in telling you that we are the makers or undoers of our own fortunes, by a prudent or foolish management of them? You indeed would never hearken to me; so, at last, much against my will, I was forced to desist, and let you alone.

I must own, replied Noureddin, I was extremely in the wrong in not following the advice that you, out of your abundance of prudence and discretion, was pleased to give me. It is true I have spent my estate; but do you not consider it is among friends of a long acquaintance, who, I am persuaded, have more generosity and gratitude in them than to abandon and forsake me in distress? Sir, replied the Fair Persian, if you have nothing but the gratitude of your friends to depend on, you are in a desperate condition; for, believe me, that hope is vain and ill-grounded, and you will tell me so yourself in a very little time.

To this Noureddin replied, Charming Persian, I have a much better opinion of my friends’ generosity than you. To-morrow I design to make a visit to them all, before the usual time of their coming hither, and you shall see me return with a vast sum, that they will raise among them to support me. I am resolved to change my way of living, and, with the money they lend me, set up for a merchant.

The next morning, Noureddin failed not to visit his ten friends, who lived in the very same street. He knocked at the first door he came at, where one of the richest of them lived. A slave came to the door; but, before he would open it, he asked who was there? Go to your master, says he to the slave, and tell him it is Noureddin, the late vizier’s son. Upon this the slave opens the door, and shows him into a hall, where he left him to go and tell his master, who was in an inner room, that Noureddin was come to wait on him. Noureddin! cried he, in a disdainful tone, loud enough for Noureddin to hear it with surprise. Go, tell him I am not at home; and whenever he comes hither, be sure you give him the same answer. The slave came back, and told Noureddin he thought his master was within, but he was mistaken.

Noureddin came away in the greatest confusion in the world. Ah! base, ungrateful wretch! said he to himself, to treat me so basely to-day, after the vows and protestations of love and friendship that you made me yesterday! From thence he went to another door, but that friend ordered his slaves also to say he was gone out. He had the same answer at the third; and, in short, all the rest denied themselves, though every one of them was at home at the same time.

It was now that Noureddin began in earnest to reflect with himself, and be convinced of the folly of his too credulous temper, in relying so much upon the vows and protestations of amity, that his false friends in the time of his prosperity had solemnly made him. It is very true, said he to himself, that a fortunate man, as I was, may be compared to a tree laden with fruit, which, as long as there is any remaining on its boughs, people will be crowding round; but, as soon as it is stripped of all, they immediately leave it, and go to another. He smothered his passions as much as possible while he was abroad; but, no sooner was he got home, than he gave loose to his sorrow, and resigned himself wholly to it.

The Fair Persian, seeing him so extremely concerned, fancied he had not found his friends so ready to assist him as he expected. Well, sir, said she, are you now convinced of the truth of what I told you? Ah! cried he, my dear, thou hast been too true a prophetess; for not one of them would so much as know me, see me, or speak to me. Oh! who could ever have believed that persons so highly obliged to me as they are, and on whom I have spent my estate, could ever have used me so barbarously? I am distracted, and I fear committing some dishonourable action, below myself, in the deplorable condition I am reduced to, without the aid and assistance of your prudent advice. Sir, replied the Fair Persian, I see no other way of supporting yourself in your misfortunes, but selling off your slaves and moveables, and living upon the money, till Heaven shall find out some other means to deliver you from your present misery.

Noureddin was very loath to make use of this expedient; but what could he do in the necessitous circumstance he was in? He first sold off his slaves; those unprofitable mouths, which were a greater expense to him than what his present condition could bear. He lived on the money for some time; and when all of it was spent, he ordered his goods to be carried into the market-place, where they were sold for half their worth; among which were several valuable things that cost immense sums. Upon this he lived for a considerable time: but that supply failing at last, he had nothing at all left by which he could raise any more money; of which he complained to the Fair Persian in the most tender expressions that sorrow could inspire.

Noureddin only waited to hear what answer this prudent creature would make. Sir, said she, at last, I am your slave, and you know that the late vizier your father gave ten thousand pieces of gold for me: perhaps I am a little sunk in value since that time, but I believe I shall sell for pretty near that sum yet. Let me entreat you then instantly to carry me to the market, and expose me to sale; and with the money that you get for me, which will be very considerable, you may turn merchant in some city where you are unknown, and by that means find a way of living, if not in splendour, yet with happiness and content.

THE STORY OF NOUREDDIN AND THE FAIR PERSIAN CONTINUED.

Ah! lovely and adorable Persian, cried Noureddin, is it possible you can entertain such a thought of me? Have I given you such slender proofs of my love, that you should think me capable of so base an action? But suppose me so vile a wretch, could I do it without being guilty of perjury, after the oath I have taken never to sell you? No, I could sooner die than part with you, whom I love infinitely beyond myself; though by the unreasonable proposition you have made me, it is plain your love is not so tender as mine.

Sir, replied the Fair Persian, I am sufficiently convinced that your passion for me is as violent as you say it is; and Heaven, who knows with what reluctance I have made this proposition that you dislike, is my witness, that mine is as great as yours; but, to silence reason at once, I need only bid you remember that necessity has no law. I love you to that degree, it is impossible for you to love me more: and be assured, that to what master soever I shall belong, my passion shall always continue the same: and if you are ever able to redeem me, as I hope you may, it will be the greatest pleasure in the world to be in your possession again. Alas! to what a fatal and cruel necessity are we driven! But I see no other way of freeing ourselves from the misery that involves us both.