Chapter VII

Boy, let you liquid ruby flow,
And bid thy pensive heart be glad.
Whate’er the frowning zealots say,
Tell them their Eden cannot show
A stream so clear as Rocnabad,
A bower so sweet as Mosellay.

HAFIZ.

When the eunuchs in waiting went to announce to the emperor, at the usual hour after sunset, that the evening meal was ready, they found him still prostrate on the carpet, occasionally talking to himself in a low whispering voice, of his father, of Nourmahal, Chusero, Afkun, and Abul Fazeel, in an incoherent manner; to which, however, they had been long accustomed.

“It was wrong--very wrong--that marriage. My father ought never to have permitted it, knowing, as he must have known, my feelings towards her. And yet he was the most affectionate of parents--the most upright of rulers. He would not offend against the laws which, unhappily, gave her to Afkun. Fazeel favoured that marriage. He is gone--whither? His blood is upon me. It trickles down my face with the icy coldness of death! Oh, no--it was Bochari’s act, not mine! Had I any hand in the mutilation of his limbs? It was the Rajaputs. For this crime they shall be exterminated. That head, crowned with silver hairs--full of all wisdom--the reproaches it breathes upon me, are poisoned arrows that enter my very soul! Oh, that those early days could be renewed, when I first looked upon the world and found it so beautiful--the air perfumed with spicy fragrance--full of the melody of birds--when seated beneath a mulberry-tree my heart was innocent--and poetry, and Arabian tales, and sweet music, constituted all my delight--days of bliss I shall know no more.”

“Is it your majesty’s pleasure,” asked one of the eunuchs, “that the banquet should be delayed?”

“Bring hither my son Chusero--bring him here instantly--say I must see him--his father must see him.”

The eunuch went to the harem, and leading forth a cherub boy, with golden hair flowing on his head in natural ringlets, eyes of the colour of the nutshell as to the pupil, the remainder of the orb a pearl beyond all price,--full cheeks, roseate with the glow of health; eyebrows arched and penciled as the first crescent of the moon; a mouth exquisitely sculptured, and smiling with intelligence and gentleness, placed him on the carpet near Jehangire. The child, in playful affection, passed his hand round the emperor’s neck, and that well-known word, “Papa!” breathed in a voice of the sweetest tenderness, at once recalled the monarch’s wandering thoughts to their more wholesome channels.

“Purveiz! my charming boy! I had indeed forgotten myself, when I commanded them to bring me Chusero. Ah, my beloved! that you may never know the pangs which your brother has cost me! These beauteous hands--they are fair as the primrose. When, as you are wont to do, you twine with these slender tapering fingers your favourite ringlet, and, notwithstanding all your mother’s prohibitions, draw this tiny thumb far within your lips, deeming it an inexhaustible fountain of nectar, there is no picture of innocence and happiness on earth like to thine! What would I not give to exchange with thee at this moment! No--not exchange--Heaven forbid you should know half the griefs I have suffered!”

Jehangire’s mind having been calmed down to a reasonable temperature by the prattle of his child, permitted his turban to be re-arranged, and proceeded to the evening meal, where, as usual, he found Bochari and several of the favourite officers of the household waiting for his presence. A few cups of Cabul wine soon altered the tenor of his thoughts. Having learned that his orders had been executed as to the preparations for advancing towards the insurgents on the following morning, he talked only of the vengeance which he hoped to inflict upon the author of the revolt and his confederates.

“Let it be fully explained,” he said, “to all my omrahs, that no man is to fail in the application of the sources placed at his disposal. In the concerns of sovereign power there is neither child nor kin. The alien who exerts himself in my cause, is of more worth to me than a thousand sons or kindred. The son who, in the presumption of his heart, forgets the duty which he owes to his father, and the unnumbered marks of royal bounty bestowed upon him, is to me, in every sense, a stranger.

“Have we not, in this respect, in Islam, a distinguished example prescribed, in the domestic policy of the monarchs of the house of Othman, who, for the stability of their royal authority, of all their sons preserve but one, considering it expedient to destroy all the rest? What, then, if, for the preservation of the state, if, to prevent the disorders that might otherwise interrupt the peace of the world, I should think it necessary to extinguish the mischief, though it shews itself in the bosom of my own family? Little, indeed, should I have to boast of my capacity for the exercise of the power entrusted to me, if, after such a flagrant proof of his total disregard of filial duty, with my eyes open, I should ever again be tempted to entrust this wretched fugitive with the slightest share of delegated authority.”

“Spoken like Acbar!” cried out Bochari.

“Safeguard of the world!--Sovereign splendour of the faith!” exclaimed the omrahs, “the victory is already yours.”

“Delicious wine!” said Jehangire, holding out his large silver cup to be replenished. “The prophet, when he forbade his followers the generous element, certainly could not have visited Cabul.”

“Very fortunate for us,” observed Bochari, “that the Koran is so express on that point, otherwise the Cabulites would doubtless have kept their wine at home.”

“I doubt,” rejoined Auzeem, one of the omrahs, whom the emperor, in his convivial moments, honoured by the title of _uncle_, “whether the prophet was himself so abstemious as his laws ordain. I have heard it said, that in his own case, at least, he admitted certain cases of exception--such as illness--when he took a cup as medicine--or fatigue from a day’s hunting--when he claimed a cup for refreshment--or if the rains prevented him from going abroad--when he found a cup or two necessary in lieu of exercise--or if he was employed in writing the Koran--when the juice of the grape, he acknowledged, heightened his inspirations. If he married a young wife, he demanded a bowl to signalize his joy--if he lost an old wife, he took three or four bowls to enable him to sustain his sorrow.”

“Uncle, uncle, as great an infidel as ever! your pilgrimage to Mecca, I see, has done you no good.”

“And yet,” said Bochari, “if rumour may be believed, no pilgrim ever performed the sacred ceremonies with a greater appearance of zeal and devotion.”

“It was the pleasure of the late emperor that I should visit Mecca,” said Auzeem, “and being once there, really one could not help being religious. However, I am, once for all, about to repent. New laws, I hear, have been lately made against wine-drinking.”

“True--true--and they must be obeyed,” the emperor declared, as he emptied his cup. “As soon as I can see how they operate upon the mass of my subjects, whose happiness it is my first duty to consult, I shall begin to submit to them myself, and live on Ganges water.”

An attendant, who heard only the last words, conceived that Jehangire had asked for water, which he began to pour into his cup.

“Slave!” exclaimed the sovereign, “what is this?”

“Ganges water, sire.”

“Fool! to waste the sacred stock in this manner, keep it for the day of battle--wine--nothing but wine to-night.”

Auzeem could not repress his laughter. He was privileged. The laugh was contagious. It went round the circle, until the “splendor of the faith” joining in it, the apartment became a scene of uproar.

“How happens it,” asked Jehangire, “that there is no person about my court who reads the Koran with more elegant enunciation than my uncle; and yet no man, in my empire perhaps, pays so little regard to its precepts?”

“The truth is,” answered Auzeem, “that I am very diffident of my own judgment. I have often recited it to your majesty since you left the harem, and I am still waiting to discover the result of my exertions.”

“Is there no excuse for me? Encompassed as I have always been with youthful associates of congenial minds, breathing the air of a delicious climate, ranging through lofty and splendid saloons, every part decorated with all the graces of painting and sculpture, and the floors bespread with the richest carpets of silk and gold,--would it not have been a species of folly to have rejected the aid of an exhilarating cordial--and what cordial can surpass the essence of the grape?”

“Besides,” rejoined Bochari, “the laws against wine-drinking are absolutely necessary for the good of the people, who are made irritable and furious against each other, by excessive indulgence, to which their ignorance makes them subject; whereas, the person who makes laws for them, must be supposed to possess a degree of knowledge that enables him to ascertain the limit to which he ought to go for the benefit of his health, and to act accordingly. It is no slight labour to be constantly sounding the great drum of sovereign power over an empire like Hindostan, two years’ journey in compass.”

“Well said! Bochari,” observed Jehangire, shewing his empty cup once more to the attendants; “there is no repose for crowned heads. Hours, such as these, amongst old friends, are the only hours of happiness I now enjoy. Alas! for the jewels of this world, which have been poured in such profusion on my head; they bear no longer any value in my sight. There is not on this side of the grave any permanent felicity. All is fleeting, vain, perishable. In the twinkling of an eye shall we see the enchantress, which enslaves the world and its votaries, seize another and another victim; and so exposed is man to be trodden down by the calamities of life, that one might be almost persuaded to affirm that he never had existence.”

Auzeem began to fear that the emperor’s next words would be an order for the production of the Koran, which he often had read to him when over-heated with wine. Strange to say, on those occasions, he frequently prostrated himself in prayer, while Auzeem read to him from the volume of the prophet. The melodious sound of a flageolet, however, being heard outside the pavilion, Jehangire started up from his divan, and bade the attendants see who was the musician.

“If Oustad Nâë be in Hindostan,” said Auzeem, “he must be the man--the first player on the flageolet in the world.”

“Bring him in,” said the emperor; “I hold excellence in every science and art to be the true ornament of an empire.”

The musician was introduced. He appeared a cunning-faced fellow, dressed in a pointed Persian cap, a shabby pelisse that had witnessed better days, a vest of faded brocade covering an ample paunch, which shewed that however wretched he now appeared, he had not been unaccustomed to good living; and loose linen trowsers, more than the half of which were devoted to the purposes of pockets. His forehead was deeply furrowed by age, his cheeks were browned by much exposure to the sun, and upon his chin there were a few short curly grey hairs that seemed in no haste to require the discipline of the barber. The sphere of one eye had altogether vanished from its place; and of the other, so small a portion remained susceptible of light, that the wonder was how he could see at all. His fingers were short and clumsy, most marvellously ill adapted, one should have thought, to modulate the tones of any instrument. Nevertheless, when he took the reed of his flageolet in his mouth, and preluded to the air he was called upon to perform, his face lighted up with a fire truly beautiful to behold; and from beneath those ill-favoured fingers emanated notes of the most enchanting clearness and harmony.

The emperor soon forgot, in the sprightly music of Oustad Nâë, the fit of prayer to which the wine had elevated him. “Never before,” said he, repeatedly, “have such melodies as these thrilled my ear. I could listen to this piper for days together, and feel no desire for food or drink.”

“Poor as ever, I perceive,” said Auzeem. “I thought, my friend, that when I saw you at Shiraz, you were in a fair way to fortune.”

“So I was, my lord, but in coming back from her, I lost my path, and have ever since been wandering to little purpose.”

“I was told that even then you were a rich man.”

“Alas, my lord! who can say he is rich that has fourteen wives?”

“Fourteen wives!” exclaimed the emperor, laughing aloud. “Can this be true, uncle?”

“Quite true, sire. It is wonderful what a fancy Persian women have for ugly men. This Oustad Nâë,” continued Auzeem, speaking in Hindostanee, which the piper did not understand, “was absolutely idolized by the ladies of the court. They said, and perhaps believed, that they were beguiled by his unrivalled skill in music; but I have known some of them to contend, with a degree of rivalry almost amounting to civil war, for a single lock of that wool or hair, whichever it be, growing on his chin.”

“Ha! ha! ha! It must be admitted that the Persian dames have a peculiar taste. We must add him to our household band, but without his wives. Nâë, what has become of all your consorts?”

“They led me such a life, sire, that I have been obliged to escape from them all. My household now consists only of two dogs and a little girl, and it is wonderful how easy I have been in my mind since, depending entirely upon my flageolet, I have sought protection in the dominions of the ‘Subduer of the world.’ To shew my gratitude for so great a blessing, I have composed a melody in honour of your highness, which, with your permission, I shall now play.”

“By all means--let us hear it. Give him a cup of wine.”

Nâë having, without any ceremony, drank off the generous beverage, proceeded with his melody, still well known under the title of “Sout-e-Jahangueiry,” a very beautiful composition, mingling great tenderness of expression with a certain solemnity, which have given it a high place amongst the national songs of Hindostan.

The emperor, enraptured, forgot even his wine, while the musician repeated the air again and again. As soon as the performance was concluded, Jehangire ordered a pair of scales to be brought in, telling the piper that he knew of no mode of rewarding him except that of presenting him with his weight in gold. Upon receiving this information, Nâë, without uttering a syllable by way of thanks, ran out of the pavilion, and immediately after returning with a dog stuffed into each pocket of his trowsers, a piece of music fixed to one arm, and a little girl of about six years old in the other, put himself, thus burthened, into the scales! This ludicrous method of adding to his own specific gravity, set the whole circle in a roar of laughter, in which the emperor heartily joined.

“Upon what plea,” asked Auzeem, “are these appendages added to your side of the scales, my friend?”

“Your lordship shall hear. When I composed this melody, I had this little girl in my arms, and my two dogs were playing with her.”

“And so they formed, as it were, the sources of your inspiration, and you claim their weight in addition to your own--not very complimentary to his majesty.”

“No matter--no matter,”--said Jehangire--“let the man and his family be placed in the balance.” Their weight having been duly ascertained, an order was written upon the imperial treasurers for the same weight in gold, which was to be given to the piper. The emperor then desired that they should be weighed again, and the amount was ordered to be paid to the little girl. Bochari held up his hands in rage at this lavish liberality of the emperor, but he knew that he could not prevent it, and that perhaps his resistance would only cause the piper to be weighed again. The man was then dismissed; but he had scarcely gone a few yards from the royal tent, when he retraced his steps, and asked that while he staid with the army he should be supplied daily with a camel-load of Ganges water. Auzeem could not tolerate such mingled avarice and insolence as this, and the fellow, after receiving his money, was turned out of the camp.