Part 29

The more he reflected upon the adventure, the more astonished was he at finding not only that the master of the house did not make his appearance, but that not a single domestic was to be discovered, although the house itself was so handsome, and so richly furnished. “My happiness and good fortune will be extraordinary indeed,” said he to himself, “if the master should not make his appearance at all, and I should safely get out of this intrigue.” While these thoughts continued to be uppermost in his mind, as well as others of a more distressing nature, the lady continued to eat and to drink, from time to time obliging him also to do the same. They were already come to the fruit, when the master of the house arrived.

It was, in fact, the master of the horse to the king of the Magi, and whose name was Bahadar. This house belonged to him, but he had another, in which he commonly lived. He only made use of this, to receive three or four chosen friends in, and for this purpose every thing was brought from his other; and this was exactly what had been done that day by some of his people, who had left it only a few moments before Amgiad and the lady came there.

Bahadar himself arrived without any attendants, and in disguise, as was his usual custom, and he came rather before the time on which he had appointed to meet his friends. He was not a little surprised at finding the door of his house forced open. He went in, therefore, without making any noise; and as he heard some people talking and enjoying themselves in the eating room, he crept round by the wall, and put his head half into the room, to see who they were. And as he observed only a young man and a female, who were eating at the table, which had been prepared for himself and his friends, and that the mischief they had done was not so great as he expected, he resolved to divert himself with them.

The lady, who had her back turned towards the door, did not perceive Bahadar; but Amgiad saw him the very first instant, while he was in the act of drinking. At sight of him, he instantly changed colour, and fixed his eyes upon Bahadar, who made him a sign not to say a word, but to come and speak to him. Amgiad drank his glass, and got up. “Where are you going?” inquired the lady. “Remain here a moment, I beg of you, madam,” replied he, “I will be back instantly: a trifling business obliges me to go out.” The prince found Bahadar waiting for him in the vestibule; and they both went down into the court, that the lady might not hear their conversation.

When they were got into the court, Bahadar asked the prince by what means he came with the lady to his house; and why he had forced the door? “Sir,” replied Amgiad, “I must in your eyes appear very much to blame: but if you will have the patience to hear my story, I hope you will be convinced of my innocence.” He then went on, and related to Bahadar, in a few words, every thing as it exactly was, without disguising a single circumstance: and to prove to him that he was unable to commit so disgraceful an action as that of breaking open a house, he did not even conceal from him that he was a prince, or his motives for coming to the city of the Magi.

Bahadar, who was passionately fond of foreigners, was highly delighted at having an opportunity of obliging one of so high a rank and illustrious a quality as Amgiad. In fact, his air, his manners, his chosen and correct conversation, left no doubt of the perfect truth of his account. “Prince,” said he, “I am excessively happy, at thus finding an occasion of obliging you, from so accidental, singular, and pleasant a meeting as the present. So far from disturbing your festivity, I shall take a great pleasure in contributing all in my power to your satisfaction. Before I inform you any further on this subject, I must tell you, that I am master of the horse to the king, and that my name is Bahadar. I have another house, in which I commonly live, and this is the place where I sometimes come to enjoy myself without any ceremony with my friends. You have made your lady believe that you have a slave, though in fact you have none. I will be that slave; and that I may not distress you by this proposal, nor you wish to excuse yourself from having it so, I repeat again to you, that I particularly wish it, and you shall hereafter know my motives for this conduct.

“Go then, and again take your place, and continue to divert yourself; and when, after some time, I shall return, and shall present myself before you, dressed like a slave, quarrel well with me, and do not be afraid even of striking me. I will attend upon you all the time you are at table, and even till night. You shall both sleep here; and to-morrow morning you shall send the lady back in the most honorable manner. After this, I will endeavor to render you some services of greater consequence. Go, then, and lose no time.” Amgiad wished to make some reply, but Bahadar would not suffer it, and compelled him to go back directly to the lady.

Amgiad had scarcely returned to the room where he had left the lady, than the friends whom Bahadar had invited arrived. He requested them, as a favor, to excuse him from entertaining them at that time; giving them to understand, that they would approve of his conduct when they should know the cause, and which they should be informed of the first opportunity. They were no sooner gone, than he went out, and procured the habit of a slave, in which he dressed himself.

The prince rejoined the lady, highly delighted at having thus fortunately stumbled, as it were, upon a house belonging to a person of so much consequence, and one who treated him in this unpleasant situation so kindly. “Madam,” said he, as he again sat down to the table, “I beg you a thousand pardons for my incivility, and the bad humor in which I felt myself on account of my slave’s absence. The rascal shall pay for it well; I will let him see, that he shall not be absent so long a time with impunity.”--“Do not let this disturb you,” replied the lady, “it will only be so much the worse for him. If he commits any faults, he will suffer for it. Trouble yourself no more about him, but let us only think of enjoying ourselves.”

They continued at table with much more pleasure and delight than before, because Amgiad was no longer uneasy at any consequence that might have arisen from the indiscretion of the lady, who ought not to have forced the door, although it had even belonged to Amgiad. He did not now feel himself in a worse humor than the lady herself; and while they continued to drink more than they eat, they amused themselves with saying a thousand pleasant and humorous things, till the arrival of Bahadar, in his disguise.

He came in like a slave, who was much mortified at finding his master with company before he returned. He immediately threw himself at his feet, and kissing the ground, begged his pardon for being so late. And when he got up, he stood still with his hands crossed, and his eyes cast down, waiting for what he was commanded to do. “Impudent fellow,” cried Amgiad, in a tone and manner of voice as if he were in a great passion, “tell me, if there is in the whole world a worse slave than yourself? Where have you been? What have you been about, not to come back till this time of day?”--“My lord,” replied Bahadar, “I entreat your pardon; I am now come from executing the orders you gave me; and I did not think you would return so early.” “You are a rascal,” said the prince, “and I will give you a good beating, to teach you not to tell falsehoods, and be so negligent of your duty.” He then got up, took a stick, and gave him three or four very slight blows, after which he returned to the table.

The lady, however, was not satisfied with this trifling punishment. She got up in her turn, and taking the stick, she beat Bahadar so unmercifully, that the tears came into his eyes. Amgiad was excessively hurt at the liberty which she allowed herself; and the manner in which she had treated one of the first officers of the king. He kept calling out that she had beaten him quite enough, but she nevertheless went on striking him. “Let me alone,” she cried, “I wish to satisfy myself, and teach him not to be absent so long another time.” She continued to beat him with so much violence, that Amgiad was forced to get up, and take the stick out of her hands; which he had some difficulty in doing. When she found she could not longer beat him, she sat down in her place, and kept saying a thousand abusive things to him.

Bahadar dried his tears, and remained standing behind them to pour out their wine. As soon as he saw that they had finished both eating and drinking, he took away all the things, cleaned out the room, put every thing in its proper place; and when night came on, he lighted up the candles. Every time that he went out, or came in, the lady did not fail to scold at, threaten, and abuse him; all of which was done to the great discontent of Amgiad, who would willingly have prevented her, but was afraid of saying a word. When it was the proper time to retire to rest, Bahadar prepared a bed for them upon the sofa, and then went to another apartment, where he, in a very short time, fell asleep through the great fatigue he had undergone.

Amgiad and the lady continued in conversation for at least half an hour longer; and before they retired to rest, the latter having occasion to pass through the vestibule, heard Bahadar, who was already fast asleep, snore very loud. As she had observed that there was a scimitar hanging up in the room where they had been feasting, she went back and said to Amgiad, “I beg of you to do one thing for love of me.”--“What can I do to serve you?” replied the prince.--“Oblige me, by taking this scimitar,” added she, “and go and cut off the head of your slave.”

This proposal excited the greatest astonishment in the prince; and he had no doubt, but that the quantity of wine she had drank was the cause of it. “Madam,” he replied, “let us not regard my slave; he is not worthy of your thoughts: I have punished him, and so have you also; let this be sufficient. Besides, I am very well satisfied with him upon the whole, as he is not in general accustomed to be guilty of these faults.”--“That is of no consequence to me,” replied the enraged female, “I wish the rascal dead, and if he is not to be killed by your hands, he shall by mine.” Having said this, she took up the scimitar, drew it from the scabbard, and ran out, to put her diabolical design in execution.

Amgiad followed and overtook her in the vestibule, “You must be satisfied, madam,” he cried, “since you insist upon it. I am, however, determined, that no one but myself shall kill my slave.” As soon as she had given him the scimitar, he said, “Follow me, and do not make any noise for fear of waking him.” They went into the chamber where Bahadar was; but, instead of aiming the blow at him, Amgiad directed it at the lady, whose head fell upon Bahadar. If the noise made by the action of cutting off the lady’s head would not have disturbed his sleep, the head itself gave him a sufficient blow to rouse him. Astonished at seeing Amgiad standing by him with the bloody scimitar in his hand, and the headless body of the female upon the ground, Bahadar eagerly inquired the meaning of all this. The prince related every thing to him exactly as it had passed, and in conclusion, he added, “To prevent this enraged creature from taking your life, I could discover no other sure method than destroying her own.”

“Sir,” replied Bahadar, impressed with the greatest gratitude, “persons of your rank and generous character are not capable of giving aid to any actions of so wicked a nature. You are my preserver, and I cannot sufficiently thank you.” So great was his sense of the obligation, that he instantly embraced him. “Before the day breaks,” said he, “this body must be carried out. I will undertake to do this.” Amgiad, however, opposed it: and said that he would take that charge upon himself, as he had been the cause of her death. “A stranger in this place, like you, will not be so well able to manage it,” replied Bahadar. “Leave it to me, and do you retire to rest. If I do not return before day-break, you may be assured that the watch has surprised me. For fear this should happen, I will now make over to you, in writing, this house, and all it contains, and you may live here at your ease.”

As soon as Bahadar had written what was sufficient to transfer the house to Amgiad, and had put this deed of gift into his hands, he took the lady’s body and head, and inclosed them in a sack. He then threw it across his shoulders, and walked along, from street to street, towards the sea. He had not, however, proceeded very far, before he encountered the officer of the police, who was going his rounds in person. His attendants stopped Bahadar, and, opening the sack, discovered the body and head of the murdered lady. The magistrate, who knew the master of the horse notwithstanding his disguise, carried him home with him; as he durst not put a person of his high rank and dignity to death, without acquainting the king with it. The next morning, therefore, he took Bahadar into the royal presence. The king had no sooner been informed, from the report of the officer, of this cruel action, which, as appeared from all the circumstances, Bahadar had been guilty of, than he loaded him with abuse. “Is this the way,” he cried, “that you murder my subjects, in order to plunder them, and then throw their bodies into the sea, to prevent the discovery of your tyranny? Let them be freed from such a monster, and hang him.”

Notwithstanding the conscious innocence of Bahadar, he received the sentence of death with perfect resignation, and said not a word in his own justification. The judge reconducted him to prison, and while the gibbet was preparing, he sent criers to publish in all the quarters of the city, the justice, which was going to be executed at noon, on the grand master of the horse, for having committed murder.

Prince Amgiad, who ineffectually waited for Bahadar, was in inexpressible consternation, when he heard the crier proclaiming this sentence from the house in which he was. “If any one is to die for the death of so wicked a woman,” said he to himself, “it is not Bahadar who should suffer, but myself; and I cannot bear that the innocent should be punished for the guilty.” Without further deliberation, he went immediately to the spot, where the execution was to take place; and mingled with the crowd, which was collecting from all parts.

As soon as Amgiad saw the judge make his appearance, leading Bahadar to the gibbet, he went and presented himself before him: “My lord,” said he, “I come to declare to you, and assure you, that the master of the horse, whom you are going to lead to execution, is quite innocent of the death of the lady for which he is to suffer. It was I who committed this crime, if a crime indeed it can be called, to deprive a detestable woman of life, who was on the point of murdering the master of the horse; the thing happened thus.”

When prince Amgiad had informed the judge of the manner in which the lady had accosted him on his coming out of the bath; of her being the cause of his breaking into the house of Bahadar, and of all that had passed, until he found himself obliged to cut off her head to save the life of Bahadar, the judge suspended the execution, and took them both before the king.

The monarch desired to be informed of the whole affair by Amgiad himself; and in order to exculpate himself, as well as the master of the horse the better, he took advantage of the opportunity to relate the whole of his history, together with that of prince Assad, his brother, from the beginning up to the present time.

When the prince had concluded his narrative, the king said to him, “I am very much pleased, prince, that this affair has afforded me the opportunity of becoming acquainted with you: I not only grant you your life and pardon, together with that of the master of the horse, whose good intention towards you I commend and admire, and whom I re-establish in his office; but I also confer on you the dignity of grand vizier, to console you for the unjust, although excusable treatment you have experienced from the king, your father. As for prince Assad, I give you free permission to exercise all the authority you are invested with, to discover where he is.”

After Amgiad had thanked the king of the city of the Magi, and entered into his office of grand vizier, he made use of every method he could devise to find the prince, his brother. He proclaimed, by means of the public criers, in all quarters of the city, the promise of a considerable reward to any one who should bring Assad to him, or even give him information where he might be found. He employed people to make inquiries in all parts; but notwithstanding all his researches, he could obtain no intelligence of him.

Assad, in the mean time, was constantly chained down in the dungeon, where he had been confined through the artifice of the old man; and Bostana and Cavama, his daughters, continued to treat him in the same cruel and inhuman manner. The solemn festival of the idolaters of fire drew near: the vessel, which usually sailed to the mountain of fire, was equipped for that purpose, and a captain, named Behram, who was a zealous promoter of the religion of the Magi, undertook to lade it with merchandise. When it was ready to put to sea, Behram contrived for Assad to be placed in a case half full of merchandise, leaving sufficient space between the planks to admit air for him to breathe; and then had the case let down into the hold of the ship.

Before the vessel set sail, the grand vizier Amgiad, who had been informed that the worshippers of fire made it an annual custom to sacrifice a mussulman on the fiery mountain, and that Assad, who had probably fallen into their hands, might be the destined victim of this bloody ceremony, wished to inspect the vessel. He went in person, and ordered all the seamen and passengers to come on deck, while his people searched the vessel; but Assad was too well concealed to be discovered.

The search being concluded, the ship left the harbour, and when it was in the open sea, Behram took Assad out of his case, but kept him confined by a chain; fearing, that as he was not ignorant of the fate to which he was destined, he might, in despair, throw himself headlong into the sea.

After some days sail, the wind, which had hitherto been favorable, became suddenly contrary; and increased to such a violent degree, that it at length terminated in a furious tempest. The vessel not only lost its track, but Behram and the pilot did not know where they were; and were fearful every moment of dashing on a rock, and going to pieces. During the height of the storm, they discovered land, and Behram knew it to be the situation of the harbour and capital of queen Margiana, which occasioned him great vexation and sorrow.

The fact was, that queen Margiana, who was a mussulman, professed a mortal enmity to the idolaters of fire. She not only did not tolerate one in her dominions, but she would not even suffer any of their vessels to come into her port.

It was, however, totally out of the power of Behram to avoid making for the harbour of this city, unless he had exposed himself to the danger of being cast away on the dangerous rocks which lined the shore. In this extremity, he held a council with his pilot and seamen: “My lads,” said he, “you see the necessity we are reduced to. Of two things we must choose one; we must either be swallowed up by the waves, or take refuge with queen Margiana; but you well know her implacable hatred to our religion, and to all who profess it. She will not fail to seize our ship, and condemn us all to death, without mercy. I see but one remedy, which may perhaps succeed. I propose, that we take off the chains from the mussulman who is with us, and dress him as a slave. When queen Margiana sends for me to appear before her, and asks me what I trade in, I will tell her that I am a merchant who sells slaves, that I have sold all I had, with the exception of one only, whom I have reserved for myself, as a sort of secretary, because he can read and write. She will desire to see him; and as he is well-looking, and moreover is of her religion, she will be moved with compassion for him, and will, no doubt, propose to purchase him of me, on condition, however, that we shall remain in her harbour until the weather is fair. If you can mention a better plan, speak, and I will hear you.” The pilot and seamen applauded it very much, and it was put in practice.

Behram ordered prince Assad’s chains to be taken off; and had him neatly dressed as a slave who was in the office of writer, or secretary, to his ship, in which character he wished him to appear before the queen. Assad was scarcely dressed and prepared for his part, when the vessel entered the harbour, and cast anchor. As soon as queen Margiana, whose palace was situated near the sea, so that the garden extended along the shore, had perceived the ship at anchor in the port, she sent to the captain to come to her; and, that she might the sooner gratify her curiosity, she went to meet him in the garden.

Behram, who expected this summons, went on shore with prince Assad, having first exacted a promise from him, of confirming what he should say of his being a slave and secretary to the ship; they were conducted before the queen, and Behram, throwing himself at her feet, described to her the necessity he had been under of taking refuge in her harbour; he then told her, that he was a merchant dealing in slaves, and that Assad, whom he had brought with him, was the only one remaining; but that he kept him for himself in the capacity of secretary.

Margiana had felt a predilection for Assad from the first moment she cast her eyes on him; and she was delighted to hear that he was a slave. Determined, therefore, to purchase him at whatever price, she asked Assad his name. “Great queen,” replied he, with tears in his eyes, “Does your majesty wish to know the name I formerly bore, or that by which I am now called?”

“What, have you two names?” inquired the queen. “Alas!” resumed the prince, “I have indeed; I was formerly called Assad, or the most happy, but my name now is Motar, or one destined for sacrifice.”

Margiana, who could not understand the true meaning of this reply, supposed he applied it to his present state of slavery; and at the same time discovered he had a ready wit. “As you are a secretary,” said she afterwards, “I conclude you can write very well; let me see some of your writing.” Assad, who was provided with an ink-horn, which was fastened to his girdle, and some paper, for Behram had not forgotten these circumstances, the better to persuade the queen that he was in reality what she believed him to be, withdrew to a little distance, and wrote the following sentences, which bore some relation to his miserable condition.

“The blind man avoids the ditch into which the clear-sighted stumbles. The ignorant man elevates himself to the highest dignities by speeches which signify nothing; while the wise man remains neglected as the dust, though possessed of the greatest eloquence. The mussulman is in the deepest misery, notwithstanding his riches, but the infidel triumphs in the midst of his prosperity. We must not hope that things will change; the Almighty decrees that they should remain in their present state.”