Chapter VII: The Return to His Father (6)

"God will restore no children whom He has banished from the world to punish the crimes of their father. Go, return to Ephesus. Thou deservest to find new misfortunes there."

"It is too much," cried Dakianos, retiring; and immediately, with rage and despair in his heart, he commanded all his troops, and all the inhabitants of Ephesus, to bring each of them a faggot, and see his orders executed. Then he caused this enormous quantity of wood to be piled before the cavern, in hopes of stifling those whom it enclosed; but the wind beat back the flames of this amazing fire against the army (who took to flight), and against the city. No private house, notwithstanding, was in the least incommoded by it; but the fire seized upon the palace of Dakianos, which was wholly reduced to ashes, and all the treasure which he had amassed with so much care vanished in a moment, whilst the cavern did not undergo the least alteration. This last prodigy engaged him to have recourse to the seven sleepers, and to Catnier himself, begging them to intercede for him. The little dog answered him thus:

"It is fear, and not piety, that seems to soften the hardness of thy heart. Begone: thou canst not deceive Allah."

Dakianos retired, confounded with this last reproach, but still more distracted at having humbled himself so far.

In the midst of all these misfortunes which succeeded each other to oppress this enemy of God, the revolt, which was considerably augmented, demanded an example to be made, and the heart of Dakianos engaged him to render it of the greatest severity. To that effect he caused to be erected in the public square, upon the ashes of his palace, a throne of iron; he commanded all his Court and all his troops to be clothed in red,[4] and to be covered with black turbans. He took care to put on the same habit, with a design of murdering in one moment five or six hundred thousand souls, whom he resolved to sacrifice to the safety of his throne, to the manes of his children, to his lost honour, and to what affected him still more, the incessant remorse and horror that gnawed his heart. But before he performed this cruel execution, he resolved once more to visit the cavern, in hopes that his weapons, the usual confidence of the wicked, might intimidate those whom by prayers or by menaces he could obtain nothing from. When he arrived there, he redoubled his usual blasphemies.

[Footnote 4: This colour in the East is a mark of the vengeance of princes.]

"Tremble, thou wretch!" said Catnier then to him, without any emotion or so much as raising his head, which lay upon his paws.

"Shall I tremble?" returned Dakianos: "Allah Himself cannot make me tremble."

"But He can punish thee," pursued Catnier; "thou drawest near thy last moment."

Dakianos, at that word, listening only to his resentment, took his arrows and his bow.

"We shall see," said he, "whether I am not redoubtable--to thee at least."

He then shot an arrow at him with the utmost strength of his arm; but a supernatural power made it fall at the feet of him who shot it, and at the same instant there sprang out of the cavern a serpent, which was above twenty feet in length, and whose dreadful and inflamed look made him tremble. Dakianos would have taken his flight; but the serpent soon overtook him, grasped him round the body, and dragged him through the whole city, that all his subjects might be witnesses of his terror and of his punishment. He then conveyed him to the iron throne which he had prepared for the scene of his vengeance. It was there that, being devoured by degrees, Dakianos by his dreadful sufferings gave a terrible example of the punishment due to ingratitude and impiety. The serpent afterwards returned to his cavern without having done the least hurt to any person, and all the inhabitants of Ephesus loaded it with benedictions at its departure.

Several Kings succeeded Dakianos, and filled his throne during the time of one hundred and forty years; after which it fell into the power of the ancient Greeks, who enjoyed it for the space of one hundred and sixty-nine years longer. When the time of the repose of the Seven Sleepers was accomplished, that which was written happened unto them. One of the seven awakened at that instant; and the dawn beginning to appear, he raised himself up, and said within himself, "I seem to have slept at least twenty-four hours;" and by degrees the others awakened, struck with the same idea.

Jemlikha, always more lively than the rest, leapt up immediately, and was extremely surprised to find, at the opening of the cavern, a wall erected of large square stones, which entirely enclosed it. He returned to his companions and told them the occasion of his astonishment. Notwithstanding this inconvenience, they agreed that they must absolutely send one of their number to the city to buy provisions; and casting their eyes upon the shepherd, Jemlikha gave him money, telling him that he ran no hazard by going. The shepherd rising to do them that service, at that moment Catnier[5] awakened, perfectly cured of his broken legs, and ran to caress them. The shepherd strove in vain to get out of the cavern, for the passage that Dakianos had reserved to himself was fallen down; and examining the wall carefully, he remarked the enormous bigness of the stones that composed it; and through the chinks that time had made between them, he saw with astonishment that part of the trees were dead, others were fallen, and that the water of the springs was differently placed; in one word, he was so confounded at the uncommon change that he perceived, that he returned into the cavern to inform his companions of this surprising event. They immediately arose and went to the entrance to judge of it themselves; but every fresh object redoubled their amazement.

[Footnote 5: There are ten animals which, according to Mahommedans, must enter into Paradise: the whale that swallowed Jonas; the ant of Solomon; the ram of Ismael; the cuckoo of Belkis; the camel of the Prophet of God; the ass of Aazis, Queen of Saba; the calf of Abraham; the camel of the Prophet Saleb; the ox of Moses; and the dog that accompanied the Seven Sleepers.]

Jemlikha then said to the shepherd, "Give me thy habit; I will go myself to the city and fetch what is necessary for us, and endeavour to find out what we cannot now comprehend."

The shepherd gave him his habit, and took his in return. Jemlikha, with much labour, made himself a passage through the ruins of this thick wall, followed the road to the city, and remarked over the gate a standard, upon which was written, "There is no other god but the true God."

He was astonished to find that one night had produced so great a change. "Is not this a vision?" said he. "Do I awake, or do I feel the illusions of a dream?"

Whilst he made these embarrassing reflections, he saw a man come out of the castle, whom he approached, and asked him if this city was not called Ephesus. He told him that was its name.

"What is the name of him who governs it?" resumed Jemlikha immediately.

"It belongs to Encouch: he is the King of it, and has his residence in it," replied the man.

Jemlikha, still more astonished, pursued his questions.

"What do these words signify," cried he, "which are upon the standard?"

He satisfied his curiosity by telling him that they represented the holy name of God.

"But I apprehend," interrupted Jemlikha, with eagerness, "that Dakianos is the King of this city, and that he makes himself be worshipped here as a god."

"I have never heard of any King so named," returned the inhabitant of the city.

"What an uncommon sleep I am in!" cried Jemlikha. "Awaken me, I conjure you," said he to him.

The man, surprised in his turn, could not forbear saying to him, "What! you have asked me reasonable and sensible questions, you have understood my answers, and can you imagine that you are asleep?"

Jemlikha, ashamed of speaking to him so inadvertently, quitted him, saying within himself, "Most high Allah, have you deprived me of reason?"

With this confusion of ideas, he entered into the city, which he could not in the least recollect: the houses, the temples, the seraglios, appeared under a new form to him. At length he stopped before the door of a baker, where he chose out several loaves, and presented his money for them: the baker examined it, and looking upon Jemlikha with much attention, he was alarmed at it, and said to him,

"Why dost thou look upon me? Give me thy bread, take my money, and concern thyself no further."

The baker answered him with the most eager curiosity, "Where hast thou found this money?"

"What is that to thee?" resumed Jemlikha.

"I don't know this money," replied the baker, "it is not the coin of the King that now reigns. Let me share the treasure which thou hast doubtless been so happy as to find, and I promise thee to be secret."

Jemlikha, almost out of patience, said to him, "This money is struck with the image of Dakianos, the absolute lord of this country. What can I tell thee more?"

But the baker, still prepossessed with the same idea, pursued thus: "Thou comest from the country: believe me, thy occupation of a shepherd has not rendered thee cunning enough to deceive me, nor to impose upon me. God has favoured thee with the discovery of a treasure: if thou dost not consent to share it with me, I will go this moment and declare it to the King; he will soon have thee arrested, thy riches will be seized upon, and perhaps thou mayest be put to death for not having declared them."

Jemlikha, impatient at this discourse of the baker's, would have taken his bread and left him; but the baker detained him, and, their dispute growing hot, a mob gathered round them to listen to it. Jemlikha said to the baker,

"I went out of the city but yesterday, I return to it this day. What can make thee imagine that I have found a treasure?"

"Nothing is more true," returned the baker, "and I am resolved to have a share of it."

A man belonging to the King running in at the noise, and in the incertitude he was in of the event, went and fetched the guards, who seized upon Jemlikha, and conducted him before the King, whom they informed of the occasion of this dispute.

And the Prince said to him, "Where hast thou found those ancient coins they speak of?"

"Sire," replied Jemlikha, "I carried them yesterday from this city; but in one night Ephesus has taken so different a form that I no longer know it: all whom I have met, all whom I see, are unknown to me, and yet I was born in this city, and I cannot express the confusion of my mind."

The King said to him, "Thou seemest to have sense; thy countenance is agreeable, and thy manner composed: how can thy speech be so unreasonable? Is it to abuse me that thou feignest this distraction? I will absolutely know where thou hast concealed the treasure which thy good fortune has made thee possessor of. The fifth part by law belongs to me, and I consent to leave thee the remainder."

"Sire," replied Jemlikha, "I have not found a treasure, but certainly I have lost my senses."

Jemlikha durst not speak too plainly, he still fearing lest this King, who was unknown to him, should be one of the viziers of Dakianos, who might order him to be conveyed to that Prince, who perhaps was absent.

Happily for him, Encouch had a Vizier of a penetrating genius, and who had an extensive knowledge of the precepts of the law, and of ancient history: that of Dakianos was not unknown to him, and by consequence he had some knowledge of the Seven Sleepers, who were imagined to be in a neighbouring cavern. The discourse of Jemlikha gave him suspicions; and to enlighten them, he said in a whisper to the King, "I am much deceived, or this young man attended upon Dakianos. God enlightened his mind, he quitted him, and retired into a cavern with five of his companions, a shepherd, and a little dog. Those seven persons were to appear out of this cavern after having slept three hundred and nine years: their awakening was to confirm the people in their duty, and everything induces me to believe that this young man is the former slave of Dakianos."

Encouch, with reason, reposed much confidence in his Vizier; therefore, addressing himself to Jemlikha, "Relate thy adventure to us without disguise," said he, "or I will have thee seized this moment."

Jemlikha, who knew the necessity his friends were under of his return, obeyed him, notwithstanding the fear he was under of seeing Dakianos, and finished his recital, which proved conformable to all that the Vizier had read in history; but what still further convinced the King was, that he added, "Your Majesty may be pleased to know that I have a house, a son, and several relations in this city, that can bear witness to the truth of what I have said."

"Consider," said the prudent Vizier to him, "that all thou hast related to the King happened three hundred and nine years since."

"Thou must, then, give us some other proof," resumed the King.

"I make no answer out of respect," returned Jemlikha, "to all the difficulties that are made; but to persuade you of what I have advanced, there is a considerable treasure, concealed by me in the house that belongs to me, which none but myself has the knowledge of."

The King and all his Court immediately rose to repair to this house. But Jemlikha, who went first, in order to conduct them, looked all round, and knew neither the street nor his own house.

He was in this confusion, when God permitted an Angel, under the form of a young man, to come to his assistance, who said to him, "Servant of the true God, you seem to be much astonished."

"How can I but be surprised?" replied Jemlikha; "this city is so changed in one night, that I cannot find my house, nor even the street in which it is situated."

"Follow me," said the Angel of God; "I will conduct you thither."

Jemlikha, still accompanied by the King, the Beys, and the Viziers, followed the Angel of God, who after some time stopped before a door and disappeared, saying to him, "Behold your house."

Jemlikha, through his confidence in God, entered into it, and saw an old man, unknown to him, and who was surrounded by several young people. He saluted them all very politely, and said very affably to the old man, "This house, I believe, belongs to me; why do I find you here? and what business have you to do in it?"

"I believe you are mistaken," replied the old man, with the same affability. "This house has long been in our family. My grandfather left it to my father, who is not yet dead, but who indeed has but one breath of life left."

The young men would have answered, and were enraged at Jemlikha; but the old man said to them, "Be not angry, my children; passion is never necessary. He has perhaps some good reason to give us: let us hearken to him."

He afterwards turned himself towards Jemlikha, and said to him, "How can this house belong to you? By what right do you pretend to it? Who are you?"

"Ah! venerable old man," returned Jemlikha, "how can I tell you of my adventure? None of those to whom I have related it will give credit to it; I cannot myself comprehend it: judge of the situation I am in!"

The old man, touched with his affliction, said to him, "Take courage, my child: I interest myself in your fate; my heart was moved at the sight of you."

Jemlikha, reassured by this discourse, related to the old man all that had happened to him; and he had no sooner heard his story than he went and brought out a picture to compare it with Jemlikha. When he had examined him for some time, he sighed, and his trouble and concern increased. He kissed the picture several times, and threw himself at the feet of Jemlikha, prostrating his wrinkled countenance, and his beard, whitened by age, upon the ground. At length he cried out,

"Oh, my dearest ancestor!"

The torrent of tears which ran from his eyes prevented him from saying more. The King and his Viziers, whom this scene had rendered very attentive to the conversation, said then to the old man,

"What! do you acknowledge him for your ancestor?"

"Yes, sire," replied he: "he is the great-great-father of my father."

He could not finish these words without bursting again into tears. He afterwards took him by the hand, and conducted him through the house. Jemlikha, perceiving a beam of cypress, said,

"It was I who caused that beam to be placed. Under the end of it will be found a large stone of granite; it covers ten vases, equal to those that are in the King's treasury. They are filled with gold pieces of the coin of Dakianos, and each of those pieces weighs a hundred drachmas."

Whilst they laboured to raise up the cypress beam, the old man approached Jemlikha with the greatest respect, and said to him, "My father is still alive, but he has very little strength left. It is he who has formerly related to me some of the things that you have told me. Come," continued he, "come and see my father, and your descendant."

Jemlikha followed him into another apartment, and saw a very old man. They made him swallow a drop of milk; he opened his eyes, and could not forbear shedding a torrent of tears when he heard who Jemlikha was, and Jemlikha could not restrain his. What an astonishment to all those who saw a young man whose grandson's son was in that excess of decrepitude--an old man oppressed with years, and the children of that old man resembling by their tone and countenance their great-grandfather! The people at the sight of this miracle could not forbear admiring the greatness of the power of God. They examined the annals, and found that the three hundred and nine years were accomplished that day.

When the beam of cypress was taken up, they found all that Jemlikha had declared. He made a present of one part of the treasure to the King, and gave the other to the children of his great-grandson.

The King after this said to Jemlikha, "We are now convinced of the truth of thy history: let us go to thy companions in the cavern, and give them assistance."

"It is the only wish I have to form," replied Jemlikha.

The Prince then, caused a great quantity of provisions to be carried with him, and departed, accompanied with his army and all the people, to repair to the cavern. It appeared so dreadful that no one had courage to enter it. It is said, however, that the King resolved to do it--that he saw the companions of Jemlikha--but that it was at the very moment of his entering it that Jemlikha gave up the ghost, with the six others and the little dog. He even heard them repeat their acts of adoration to the Sovereign Master of the universe, and die as they pronounced them. Encouch caused everything to be brought that was necessary to pay them the last duty, and had them interred in the same cavern where they had slept so long. When all the people were gone out of it, by a particular permission of God, the entrance of the cavern was closed, and since that time it has been impossible for any man to enter it. The King commanded a column to be erected some paces from it, upon which he caused to be engraved the history of the Seven Sleepers, to make known the power of God, to inspire a horror for ingratitude, and to show by this example the efficacy of prayer.

The Enchanters.

At the death of the mighty Dabulcombar, the Lord of the East, Misnar, the first-born of the Sultan, ascended the throne of India; but, though he had scarcely arrived at the age of manhood, yet neither the splendour of his Court nor the flatteries of the East could steal from the youthful Sultan the knowledge of himself.

His first royal command was to assemble together the wise men throughout his extensive dominions, from Cabul and Attok in the west to Kehoa and Thoanoa in the east. The learned and devout accordingly came from every part of his dominions. On an appointed day the Sultan ordered the illustrious assembly to meet in the divan, where, being placed on the throne of his forefathers, he thus opened unto them the desires of his heart:

"O ye sources of light and fountains of knowledge!" said Misnar, "more precious are your counsels to me than the mines of Raalconda: wisdom is the true support of honour, and the Sultan is established by the counsel of his sages. Say, then, what course shall Misnar pursue that may secure him on the throne of the mighty Dabulcombar?"

The sages in the divan were struck with astonishment at the condescension of their young Sultan, and one and all fell prostrate before his throne. "May wisdom," said they, "guide the footsteps of the illustrious Misnar! may the mind of our Sultan be as the eye of day!"

Then arose the prophet Zeuramaund, and said, "I perceive, O mighty Sultan, the dark clouds of evil are gathering to disturb the hours of futurity; the spirits of the wicked are preparing the storm and the tempest against thee!"

The venerable sages looked aghast as Zeuramaund uttered these ominous predictions; the whole council were dismayed at his words, and all fell again prostrate on the earth.

Misnar alone appeared to be unconcerned at his predicted fate. "O my friends," said the youthful Sultan, "the rose cannot blossom without the thorn, nor life be unchequered by the frowns of fate. Grieve not, then, that trials await me, since the spirit of prudence and virtue blossoms fairest in a rugged soil."

The sages arose as their royal master spake, and beheld with wonder the youthful countenance of their prudent Sultan.

Silence and amazement for a time prevailed, till one of the sages, advancing before the rest, thus counselled the intrepid Prince:

"O light of the earth!" said the trembling sage, "whose virtue and innocence have not been vexed by frauds, and deceit, whose pure mind seeth not the foul devices of man's heart, trust not to the fickle interpositions of chance, where thine own arm can work security, and establish a permanent foundation to thy father's throne. Thou hast a brother, O my Sultan, whose veins are filled with royal blood, and whose heart is by descent above control. Ahubal, therefore, ere his youth unfolds in the fulness of manhood, should be cut off."

"What!" said the young Sultan Misnar, "what do thy base suspicious fears advise? Is there no way to build up the seat of justice and mercy but in murder and fratricide? Never let him who was born to execute judgment secure his honours by cruelty and oppression. The righteous Allah planted me not here to spread a poisonous shade over the offspring of His Prophet Mahomet: though fear and submission be a subject's tribute, yet is mercy the attribute of Allah, and the most pleasing endowment of the vicegerents of earth. But as thou, weak man, hast dared to advise the extirpation of one of the race of the mighty Dabulcombar, the vengeance of my injured brother's blood fasten upon thy life!"

The guards of the divan, hearing the sentence of the Sultan, approached with their drawn sabres towards the decrepit sage; but Misnar, rising, cried out,

"Who of my subjects shall dare to violate with blood the sanctity of this refuge for the oppressed? Let the divan of justice be sacred: nevertheless, lead that author of malice from my sight, and let his own blood make satisfaction for the cruelty of his desires."

As he spake thus, the guards attempted to seize the sage; but when they advanced towards him, flames of fire burst from his mouth, and his whole form appeared as that of a fiery dragon. The rest of the sages fled from the dreadful monster; but Misnar, with an intrepid countenance, stood before his throne, with his drawn sabre pointing towards the dragon, when through the flames he perceived a hoary magician on the back of the monster.

"Vain, O silly child of Mahomet!" said the enchanter, "were thy sabre against the power of my art, did not a superior force uphold thee; but tremble at thy doom: twice four of my race are determined against thee, and the throne of Dabulcombar noddeth over thy head; fear hath now preserved thee, and the weakness of thy heart, which the credulous believers of Mahomet will call prudence and moderation; but the fiend of darkness is let loose, and the powers of enchantment shall prevail." As the old magician spake thus, his fiery dragon, with tremendous hissings, arose, and, cleaving the dome of the divan, disappeared from their sight.

"Thus," said the illustrious Misnar, "let the enemies of Mahomet be dismayed! But inform me, O ye sages, under the semblance of which of your brethren did that foul enchanter gain admittance here?"

"As I travelled on the mountains from Queda," answered Bahilu, the hermit of the Faithful from Queda, "and saw neither the footsteps of beasts nor the flights of birds, behold, I chanced to pass through a cavern, in whose hollow sides I found this accursed sage, to whom I unfolded the invitation of the Sultan of India, and we journeyed together towards the divan; but ere we entered he said unto me, 'Put thy hand forth, and pull me toward thee into the divan, calling on the name of Mahomet; for the evil spirits are on me and vex me.'"

After the hermit Bahilu had spoken, Mangelo arose.

"May the power of the Sultan of the East be multiplied!" said he; "but know, O Sultan, that neither evil genius nor enchanter can enter this seat of justice unless he be invited in the name of Mahomet."

"If it be so," answered the Sultan Misnar, "then neither can they be masked against the voice of justice; for Thou, O righteous Allah, wilt uphold the tribunal which Thou has founded upon earth, and make the visions of fraud to depart from him who seeketh truth. Therefore," continued the Sultan, "lest this assembly be still tainted with malice and infidelity, I command the evil spirits to stand confessed before me."

At his word, sulphurous smokes arose, and from the thronged assembly seven hideous forms broke forth.

First, on a vulture's pinions, the fell enchanter Tasnar soared aloft, whose skin was as the parched Indian's when he writhes impaled upon the bloody stake.

Next, on the back of an enormous scorpion, whose tail dropped deadly poison, Ahaback appeared, and with his eyes darted malignant flashes on the youthful Sultan.

Happuck, a subtle magician, followed him, seated on the shoulders of a tiger, whose mane was shagged with snakes, and whose tail was covered with twining adders.

Hapacuson also, that decrepit hag, who personated the righteous Sallasalsor, from Nechal, now stripped of the garments of hypocrisy, filled the eyes of the sages with terror and amazement. Her lean bones, wrapped round with yellow skin, appeared like the superstitious mummies of western Egypt. She was mounted on a dreadful monster. Its form was like the deadly spider, but in bulk like the elephant of the woods; hairs, like cobwebs, covered its long bony legs, and from behind, a bag of venom, of a whitish hue, spurted forth its malignant influence.

She was followed by her malicious sister Ulin, squatting on the back of a hideous toad.

Then, with a loud hiss, started forth, in many a fold, a black serpent, in length and bulk like the cedars of the forest, bearing the powerful enchantress Desra, whose wide-extended ears covered a head of iniquity.

Last, with majestic horrors, the giant Kifri swelled into his full proportion: the long alligator that bore him groaned with his load, and opening all his mouths (for every scale appeared a mouth), vomited forth streams of blood. In his hand the giant brandished a tall pine, and, shaking it at the dauntless Misnar, said,

"Tremble, vile reptile, at a giant's wrath! tremble at the magic powers of all my brethren, for thy doom is fixed!"

At these words, the infernal crew joined with Kifri, and all at once pronounced in harsh discordant sounds, "Tremble, vile reptile, for thy doom is fixed!"

The enchanters were then involved in a thick cloud of smoke, from which issued flashes of lightning, which, ascending to the roof of the divan, disappeared in a moment.

"There is neither wisdom nor prudence," said Misnar, as he prostrated himself on the ground, after the enchantments were at an end, "but what is derived from Allah. If Thou dost vouchsafe to direct my steps, O Protector of Mussulmen, the fear of evil shall not come upon me."

"Happy," said Candusa, the imam of Lahor, "happy is the Prince whose trust is in Allah, and whose wisdom cometh from the Heavens."

"Happy," said all the sages, humbling themselves before the Sultan Misnar, "happy is our Sultan, the favourite of Allah!"

"That, O sages," replied Misnar, "is too much for even the Sultan of the East to hear. But, may the all-righteous Allah approve of my thoughts and actions; so shall the infernal powers destroy the wretches that employ them, and the dark poisoned arrow recoil upon him that blew it forth. But, O sages, though your numbers are reduced, your integrity is more tried and approved; therefore let your Sultan partake of the sweetness of your counsels, and learn from aged experience the wisdom of the sons of earth. Say, then, what doth the peace and security of my throne require from me concerning my brother Ahubal, the issue of the mighty Dabulcombar?"

"Far be it from me," said the sage Carnakan, "to presume to utter my words as oracles before the Prince; but may not the security of the East require that the Prince thy brother be not enlarged, as my Sultan is, to do whatsoever seemeth good in his heart? Should not the younger be as servant to the first-born of his father, and are not all the Princes the vassals of the Sultans of the East? Let, therefore, the Prince Ahubal enjoy the pleasure of life; but let him be removed from giving pain and uneasiness to my royal Sultan Misnar. At the sources of the springs of Ava, on the craggy rocks of Aboulfaken, is a royal castle built by the sage Illfakircki, to which there is no passage but through a narrow vale, which may be ever guarded by the slaves of Misnar. Hither let the Prince be sent; and let him live there, and enjoy life, without having any power to molest the glories of thy reign."

The counsel of Carnakan was agreeable to the Sultan and his sages; and Misnar gave immediate orders, that the mutes of his seraglio should attend the Prince to the royal castle at Aboulfaken; and then dismissing, for the present, the assembled sages, he commanded them to attend the divan every week.

In a few days, the mutes and guards who were sent with the Prince Ahubal being admitted into the presence of their Sultan, fell on their faces, and cried out,

"Oh, let not the displeasure of the Sultan visit his slaves, who, in obedience to thy royal word, journeyed toward the castle of Aboulfaken, and, as they passed along through the deserts, a party of five thousand horse appeared, who, setting upon us, ordered us either to deliver up the Prince Ahubal, or defend him with our lives. Thy slaves would willingly have chosen the latter fate. Yet, alas! what were four hundred guards and twenty mutes to the army that opposed us? But our consultation was vain; for while we debated how to defend ourselves, the Prince drew his sabre, and, killing three of our number, cut his way through the guards to his friends. The horsemen then would have set upon us and hewed us in pieces; but their chief forbade them, saying, 'No, let them live, and be the messengers of the Prince's escape. Go,' continued he, 'dastard slaves! and let your Sultan know, that Ahubal has friends who will shortly punish him for his designs on the Prince.'"

At these words of the guards Misnar gave a deep sigh, and said, "Human prudence alone is far too weak to fight against the wiles of the deceitful; but Allah is more powerful than man. I will therefore send for the prophets, and inquire of them where I may seek for the assistance of Mahomet."

The Sultan then commanded Zeuramaund and his tribe, and Mangelo the prophet, from the hollow rocks of Caxol, to be brought before him; and when they were come into his presence, he demanded of them, where he might seek for the assistance of Mahomet, and the countenance of Allah.

Then Zeuramaund answered the Sultan in these words:

"In the tomb of the Prophet of Mecca is the signet of Mahomet, which no human power may remove; but if the Prophet will hear the prayer of the Sultan, it may easily be taken thence."

"Yes," replied Mangelo, "the seal of Mahomet will indeed preserve the Prince from enchantment; but it is also necessary that he put on the girdle of Opakka, which is worn by the giant Kifri, the sworn enemy of the Eastern throne. For although the signet of Mahomet will preserve the Sultan from evil, yet will the girdle of Opakka only save him from deceit."

The Sultan Misnar was moved at the discourse of his prophets, and spent the night in thought and perplexity. He had little hope that the signet of Mahomet, which had for ages remained immovable, should yield to him; or that, with all his numerous armies, he should be able to force the girdle of Opakka from the loins of an enchanter, who could in a moment overwhelm his troops by the power of his art. However, he determined the next morning to go with his Court on a public pilgrimage to Mecca, and to offer up the most solemn petitions to the Prophet of his faith.

Early in the morning the Sultan arose from his seraglio, and commanded his courtiers to prepare the procession, as he intended immediately to make a public pilgrimage to Mecca.

But as Misnar was making known his intentions, a messenger arrived in haste at the entrance of the seraglio, who brought advice that one of the southern kingdoms had revolted, and was led on by a skilful heroine, who declared her intentions of placing Ahubal, the brother of the Sultan, on the throne of India.

Misnar was conscious that this revolt was brought about through the contrivances of the enchanters, and therefore despaired of conquering them by means of his armies; but lest the other kingdoms, seeing no troops were sent to repel the rebels, should also join the adverse party, the Sultan commanded the signal of war to sound; and sending for his Grand Vizier Horam in private, he ordered him to lead out the armies of Delhi against the rebels, and to dispatch daily messengers to the capital, to bring advice of his success.

The Vizier Horam received the Sultan's commission with reverence, and said, "Let not my Sultan be angry at his slave. If my lord should require ten thousand messengers, his slave Horam would dispatch them. But if my lord will accept of this tablet, he shall know in a moment the success of his servant, though numberless leagues distant."

"What!" said Misnar, taking the tablet from his Vizier. "By what means is this tablet endued with these rare virtues?"

"My lord," answered Horam, "when my father, through the malice of his enemies, was banished from the presence of the mighty Dabulcombar--whom the houris of Paradise do serve--he called me to him, and said, 'O Horam, the evil-minded have prevailed, and thy father has fallen a sacrifice to the enemies of truth! No more, my son, shall I behold the children of my strength, nor the splendour of my Sultan's Court. Whither I go, I know not. But take this tablet, my son; and whatever befalleth thy parent shall at times be made known to thee in the leaves of this book; and to whomsoever thou givest it, that friend shall, after my death, read therein whatever Horam my son shall wish to make known unto him.'"

"Faithful Horam," answered the Sultan, "your present is of such exquisite value, that I shall, in confidence, honour you with the first place in my esteem. Know, then, my faithful Vizier, that the powers of enchantment are let loose against my throne, and the prophets have said, 'Thou shalt not prevail but with the signet of Mahomet and the girdle of Opakka;' therefore it is expedient that I first go to Mecca to obtain this valuable gift of the Prophet. My purpose this morning was to go surrounded by the nobles of my Court; but while rebellion stalketh abroad, pageants are idle, and the parade of a Sultan's pilgrimage will give my enemies time to increase in their numbers and strength. No, Horam; I myself will in secret approach the tomb of my Prophet, for Allah requireth the service of the heart, and searcheth out the purity of his servants' intentions: I shall go with greater humility as a peasant than as a prince. In the meantime my royal tent shall be pitched, and Horam only shall be suffered to approach it. So shall my slaves imagine their Sultan goeth forth with them to the field, and their hearts shall be strengthened."

"Be the desires of the Sultan fulfilled," said Horam, with reverence; "but will not my lord take with him a guard in his pilgrimage?--for the dangers of the journey are great over the mountains and deserts, and the voyage by the seas is perilous."

"No," answered the Sultan; "those who are my slaves _here_, may at a distance become my masters, and sell me to my foes: where the trust is great, great is the danger also. Shall I set guards over my person in the heart of my kingdom amidst my faithful subjects, and trust my life in a slave's hand where I am neither known nor respected?"

The Vizier Horam was struck with the prudence of his youthful Sultan, and bowed in assent to his words.

In a few days the armies of India assembled; the royal tent was pitched, and the Vizier was declared the leader of his Sultan's forces. Misnar entered his tent in great state, and Horam alone followed the Sultan into the retirements of the movable pavilion.

The Vizier had, according to the Sultan's instructions, prepared a disguise for his master; and at midnight led him, like a peasant, through the encampment into a wood, where, falling at his feet, he besought him to consider well the dangers he was about to encounter.

"Horam," answered the Sultan, "I well know the goodness of thy heart, and that thy fears arise from thy love. Sensible am I that the dangers of my pilgrimage are great; but what resource have I left? More than man is risen up against me, and more than man must assist me, or I perish. To whom, then, can I fly, but to the Prophet of the Faithful? For I am well assured that no enchantment shall prevail against me while I journey toward Mecca, for such is the faith of all true believers: though they may oppress and fatigue me, yet in the end shall I triumph. Besides, Horam, there remains no other course for me."

"True, my Sultan," answered the Vizier: "without Allah, vain is the counsel of man; but is not Allah everywhere present to aid and defend the sons of the Faithful?"

"Though Allah be all-powerful," answered Misnar, "yet is not the slave of His hand to direct the Lord of all things. If we would gain the help and assistance of Allah, we must obey His commands; and well are we assured in the law of our Prophet, that at Mecca shall the prayer of the Faithful be heard. Wherefore, O Horam, no longer my slave, but my friend, lead forth my armies with confidence and trust, and doubt not that He, who daily refresheth the sun with light, will shortly restore Misnar to the throne of his forefathers."

As he spake thus the Sultan broke from his Vizier, Horam, who had fallen at his feet weeping at his fixed resolves, and penetrated into the gloomy recesses of the forest.

All was silence and darkness, save where, through broken fragments of fleeting clouds, the moon sometimes threw a feeble light on the gloom of the forest.

"This gloomy recess," said Misnar, as he passed on, "which hides me from the world, makes me better known to myself. In the Court of my forefathers I am called the 'light of the world,' the 'glory of the East,' and the 'eye of day;' but in the wild forest of Tarapajan I am a poor helpless creature. What, then, is the pride of man but deceit, and the glories of the earth but shadows? Surely more had I to fear from enchantment on the throne of Dabulcombar than in the bosom of this forest. Here the wild beast will not flatter me, nor will the lordly lion acknowledge me the Sultan of his wild domains."

With such thoughts Misnar passed on for many days; till one night, at a distance, he perceived the skies looked red with light from various fires, and, by the noise, found that some Indians were carousing in the woods before him.

The disguised Sultan endeavoured to avoid them, striking into a path which led round their fires; but some of the Indians observing him, called to their brother peasant, and desired him to partake of their mirth.

Misnar thought it would be vain to refuse the request, as they all seemed disposed to insist on their demands, and therefore hastened to the scene of their festivity.

Here he found ten or twelve fires, with a number of males and females, some sitting, and some dancing around them to the sound of rustic music.

Misnar inquired the cause of their mirth.

"What!" said an ancient female, "though you are a stranger in Tarapajan, and know not that the Feast of Tigers is celebrated by these nightly fires, yet must you now learn that no stranger comes but to partake of our joy, nor departs till, the fires are extinct."

"And how long," said Misnar, "doth this feast last?"

"This," answered the old woman, "is the third night, and these fires must blaze yet eleven nights and days more, during which time the axe is not seen in the hand of the forester, nor doth the bow twang in the woods of Tarapajan; neither may he which seeth these rites depart till they be fulfilled."

Misnar was thunderstruck at this relation. And ere he could answer, the crowd gathered round him.

"Come," said he that appeared to be the chief, "let us initiate this stranger into our rites: bring hither the skin of the tiger, and the paw of the lion, and the lance, and the bow that twangs not in the woods of Tarapajan during these nightly festivals."

Then one brought the skin of a tiger, and threw it over the shoulders of Misnar; another came with the paw of a lion, and hung it before him; a third brought a lance, and put it in Misnar's right hand; and a fourth slung a bow on his breast. Then all the crowd made a loud howling, and danced round the astonished Sultan.

"Now," said the chief, when the dance was finished, "sound the hollow instruments of brass, which give notice to the moon and to the stars that this stranger is about to swear not to reveal our rites. Lay thine hand on thy head," said the chief to the disguised Sultan, "and put thy fingers on thy mouth, and say, 'As the starless night is dark, as the cave of death is dark, so shall my thoughts and words continue in darkness concerning the festival of tigers.'"

"And wherefore," said Misnar, "is this silence imposed? And what shall befall him that sweareth not unto you? Is not the mind of man free? And who shall offend him who seeketh not to offend others?"

"Whosoever," answered the chief, "travelleth, should become obedient to the customs of those people among whom he tarrieth."

"Right," continued Misnar; "and I am willing, on two conditions, to fulfil your will: first, you shall all swear that I be at liberty to pursue my journey on the eleventh day; and, next, that I shall not be bound to perform aught contrary to the law of Mahomet."

"Stranger," replied the chief, "when we are at liberty to depart, thou shalt depart likewise; but during this festival, which is held in honour of our noble ancestor, who remained fourteen days in this forest till he had subdued a ravenous race of tigers, no man that has entered here may stir hence till the fires be extinguished: for by the fire did our ancestor drive away and destroy the tigers and beasts of the forest, and by fire do we commemorate his mighty deeds. Neither," continued the chief, "may we reveal these rites to any one but those who by accident espy them; for such as are present with us we are bound to receive into our society; wherefore we compel those who come among us to keep in silence the knowledge of our rites."

"If such is your custom," answered Misnar, "I shall willingly comply, and swear to you, that 'As the starless night is dark, as the cave of death is dark, so shall my words and thoughts continue in darkness concerning the festival of tigers.'"

As he uttered these words, the whole assembly again danced around him, till the hollow brazen instruments were ordered to sound, and all the inhabitants of the forest were commanded to receive the disguised Sultan as their brother.

Then the men, one by one, passed by Misnar, each as he passed laying the hand of the Sultan on his breast. After they were passed by, came the females also, who embraced their new brother. These Misnar suffered to pass on without much reflection, till, among the youngest, who last approached, he beheld a beautiful virgin, with downcast looks, drawing near him, and who seemed ashamed of that freedom the custom of the place obliged her to use.

At sight of this lovely figure, Misnar at once forgot his purpose and his crown, and was impatient till the ceremony brought her near to him. The other females perceived his emotion; and the chief of the festival approaching her, asked the lovely Noradin "whether she would at length fix her choice? for in this place," continued the chief, addressing himself to Misnar, "every sex hath freedom, and none are compelled to take the hand they do not love. Noradin hath for these three days been courted by all our tribe, but she has refused every advance: if she refuse not you, our joy will be complete, and then none of our company will be without his companion."

Misnar, forgetting the great designs of his heart, waited for the fair one's answer, and felt more fear at her silence than at this dreadful enchantments of his monstrous enemies. At length Noradin answered, "May the joy of my comrades be complete!" Misnar, in raptures at the fair Noradin's preference, took her by the hand, and led up the dance, while the instruments of brass a third time sounded, to proclaim the choice of Noradin.

At the appearance of day, each repaired to the cottages around, and Misnar and Noradin were led by the chief to a spot, where shortly the whole assembly built them a cottage of bamboo and the leaves of the plantain.

As soon as they retired, Noradin, taking Misnar by the hand, asked him whether she deserved his constant love for the choice she had made. Misnar reflected upon the words of his fair companion, and his heart recoiled at them.

"What!" said the Sultan to himself, "shall I, for the gratification of my passion, give up the glories of my father's kingdom, and the viceregency of Mahomet? Or shall I basely betray that love which is proffered me, and embitter fair Noradin's future cup of life? No," said he aloud, turning to his amiable companion, "never let the man of integrity deceive the heart that means to make him happy. Forgive me, all-beauteous Noradin! but the volumes of my fate are open, and the Prophet of the Faithful will not permit me to indulge here my secret affections: though the soul of thy slave will be torn and divided, yet must he depart with the expiring fires of your festival."

"Base, cold, and senseless wretch!" said the false Noradin (as the beauteous vision vanished from the eyes of the Sultan, and he beheld the enchantress Ulin before him), "call not thy frozen purpose virtue, but the green fruits of unripened manhood. Though thou art escaped, puny animal as thou art! from the power of my enchantments, yet shall the southern kingdoms of India feel my scourge. Proceed, then, superstitious reptile! on thy tame pilgrimage to Mecca, while Horam feels the vengeance of my army in the sultry deserts of Ahajah."

As she spake thus, she stretched out her wand, and the fires and the foresters, and the enchantress Ulin, disappeared from the sight of the astonished Sultan.

The Sultan immediately prostrated himself on the ground, and gave glory to God for his wonderful escape; and, pursuing his journey, continued his course for two moons through the wide-extended forest of Tarapajan.

During this time he daily examined the tablets which the Vizier Horam had given him; but was very uneasy at finding the leaves always fair. "Alas!" said he to himself, "I have trusted to a base man, who perhaps has taken this advantage of my credulity, and intends to set the crown of India on my brother's head! There needed not the powers of enchantment to overthrow me, since I have betrayed at once my folly and my cause."

Misnar, therefore, resolved to travel back to Delhi, and learn the cause of Horam's silence; but as he neglected not to look on the tablets every day, he at length found the following inscription therein:

"Horam, the faithful slave of the Sultan of the East, to Misnar, the lord of his heart.

"Some time after I left my royal Sultan in the forest, while my heart was sad within me, came a hasty messenger from the outskirts of the rebel army, and declared their approach, and that the southern provinces had revolted, and were added to the opposers of the Sultan of the East. When thy slave was certain of this intelligence from the mouths of many, who hastened to the camp with these bad tidings, I commanded the armies of India to be increased, and a more exact discipline to be observed in my master's camp; and, perceiving that the enemy hastened to meet the forces, I shortened the march of my slaves, that the fatigues of the deserts might not prevail more against them than the face and the sword of their enemies. Moreover, I led thy troops through the most cultivated countries, that the necessaries of life might with the greater ease be procured for the multitudes that followed thy tent. But, alas! the presence of my lord is not with his people, and the army murmur that they are led by a Sultan who cheers not their labours by the light of his person; so that the hearts of thy people are withdrawn from Horam thy slave, and the captains of thousands demand admittance to thy tent, and accuse thy Vizier of evil devices against thee, my lord the Sultan."

As the Sultan read this intelligence in the tablet of Horam, his heart failed within him, and the sight of his eyes was as a mist before him.

"O Misnar! Misnar!" said he, falling to the ground, "the fiend of darkness is let loose upon thee! and the powers of enchantment still prevail!"

"Yes," said Ulin the enchantress, who immediately appeared, "the powers of enchantment shall prevail! Misnar, the faithful servant of Mahomet, hath at length yielded to my power, and Allah hath given to my vengeance the wretch that doubts His protection. Crawl, therefore," continued she, "vile reptile, on the earth, and become a toad."