Eastern Tales by Many Story Tellers Part 55

[Footnote 14: Imam is a priest who reads and explains the Koran.]

[Footnote 15: Athib is a reader who chaunts over the prayers in plain song.]

[Footnote 16: Falhea, the Mahommedan Confession of Faith.]

The a.s.sembly, and the King himself, were astonished at this young stranger seating himself so near his Majesty; but the pleasure of his melodious and affecting voice excited so agreeable a surprise, that they soon forgot his a.s.surance. All agreed that they had never heard anything so exquisite and perfect. The Athib was jealous of him: he had never supposed that there was a voice in the world superior to his own, and the despair which he felt deprived him of the use of it--he felt it die upon his lips. Achib did not give him time to recover it: he continued the prayer with a force and ease which the efforts of the Athib, supposing him to have had the courage to attempt it, could not have surpa.s.sed.

When the King had ended his prayer, as he came out of the mosque he ordered his officers to wait for the new singer, to have a horse ready for him, and to conduct him to the palace, where his Majesty desired to see him. Achib received this invitation with respect, and obeyed the orders of his Sovereign.

The monarch gave him a most gracious reception, bestowing the highest praise upon his talents, and soon felt himself prejudiced in favour of this stranger by a sympathy of which he could not discover the springs; but it seemed to be of the most interesting nature. Achib was only in his seventeenth year, and was endowed with every personal grace. Everything seemed to unite in strengthening the liking which the King showed for this stranger. Thus, whether on this pretence or to do a beneficent action, he made him lodge in his palace, and gave him a distinguished preference over the pages and those who composed his household.

The officers soon conspired the destruction of their rival. In the meantime the virtuous Achib, after a long residence at Court, became desirous of seeing his parents and giving them an account of the goods with which he had been entrusted. Afraid lest he should not obtain the monarch's permission to return to them, he wrote to them and informed them of the favour he enjoyed. This motive, and the desire he expressed of seeing them again, determined the family to go to him immediately.

Illage and his wife bore in their hearts the letter which they had just received; and both being flattered with having a son who at so early an age had been able to gain the good graces of a King, they instantly determined to hasten their departure, and informed their son of this resolution. As soon as Achib received this information, he purchased a house and suitable furniture, and in a short time embraced in it the authors of his existence, to whom the King sent presents of such magnificence as showed that they were intended for the family of his favourite.

The fineness of the season having invited the King to one of his country houses, he removed thither, and gave entertainments for the amus.e.m.e.nt of his Court. One evening, contrary to his usual custom, he gave himself up to the pleasures of the table, and drank of a strange liquor of which he knew not the strength. In a short time after he was suddenly seized with such a stupidity that he was obliged to throw himself on a sofa, where he soon fell asleep. Pleasure had removed from him all his servants. Achib alone, following from affection every step of his master and benefactor, entered into the apartment and found him asleep. Then placing himself within the door, he drew his sabre, and stood there as a guard.

One of the pages having returned, was surprised to find him in this situation, and asked him the cause of it.

"I am watching," said Achib, "for the safety of my King: my attachment and my duty fix me here."

The page ran and told his companions what he had seen. They thought they might easily avail themselves of this event to destroy him, and went in a body to the monarch. The witness swore that he had found Achib with a naked sabre in his hand in his Majesty's chamber while he was asleep. He ascribed the most criminal intentions to this faithful guard, and pretended that nothing but some sudden alarm had prevented the intended blow.

"If your Majesty, sire," added he, "suspects the truth of my report, you need only to-day feign giving yourself up to sleep without any precaution, and we do not doubt that this rash man, pursuing his detestable purpose, will come to renew his attempt."

Though moved by this accusation, the King was unwilling to trust entirely to the declaration of his pages, and thought it his duty to clear up his doubts himself.

In the meantime the pages had gone to find the young favourite.

"The King," said they to him, "is highly pleased with the zeal you have shown for the safety of his person. 'Achib,' hath he said, 'is to me as a shield; under his protection I can sleep without fear.'"

Night came, and the King, after a repast, during which he affected much gaiety and cheerfulness, suddenly retired, and threw himself upon a sofa, apparently in the same state in which he had been the night before. Achib, who never lost sight of him, supposing he was asleep, entered the apartment to place himself on guard, with his sabre uplifted and naked.

As soon as the King saw the gleam of the sabre he was seized with terror, and a cry which he uttered brought to him all the officers of his guard. Achib was arrested by his order, loaded with chains, and led away to prison.

The next morning, after the first prayer, the King a.s.sembled his divan, ascended his throne, and caused the man to be brought before him whom slanderous and false reports and deceitful appearances had exposed to the presumption of so much guilt.

"Ungrateful that you are!" said he to him. "Is it by putting me to death that you would show your grat.i.tude and repay my favours? I will not delay to take signal vengeance on your detestable baseness."

Achib, having made no reply to these reproaches, was sent back to prison.

Scarcely was he gone out, when two of the courtiers who were most eager for his destruction approached the King.

"Sire," said they to him, "everybody is surprised to see the execution of the criminal delayed. There is no crime equal to that which he intended to commit; and you ought to give such a speedy example of justice as your personal safety and the tranquillity of your people require."

"Let us not be rash," replied the King, "in a judgment of this nature.

The criminal is in chains, and cannot make his escape. And as to public vengeance, it will never be too late to gratify it. It is easy to take away a man's life, but it is impossible to restore it. Life is a blessing of Heaven which we ought to respect, and it becomes not us to deprive our fellow-creatures of it without the most mature deliberation. The evil, once done, can never be repaired. I have it now in my power to reflect on what I ought to do, and wish not that the future should have to reproach me with the improper conduct of the present."

Having said this, the King dismissed the divan, ordered his hunting equipage to be got ready, and gave himself up for some days to the amus.e.m.e.nts of the chase.

On his return, he was again set upon by the enemies of Achib. The longer, according to them, that this criminal's punishment was delayed, the more the people were discontented. Clemency and moderation ceased to be virtues when they spared such crimes as his.

These new remarks embarra.s.sed the Sovereign, who had now nothing to oppose to them, since the delay which he had granted had brought nothing to light. He determined to inflict that severe punishment which justice seemed to require, and ordered the criminal to be brought before him, accompanied by the officers of justice and the executioner.

Achib stood blindfolded at the foot of the throne. The executioner, with the sword in his hand, waited the King's command. At that instant a confused noise was heard; a stranger pierced through the crowd, and hastened to the feet of the King. It was the unfortunate Illage.

"Mercy, sire! mercy!" exclaimed he: "pardon the only child that Heaven has restored to me! My son could not intend an attack upon your life: he was incapable of designing so unnatural a murder; your life is dearer to him than his own. I have letters of his which made me fly to your Majesty, that I might admire more nearly those virtues which I adored. But, O monarch, whose ill.u.s.trious virtues are renowned through the most distant corners of the world, justify the public admiration by a new display of wisdom, in overcoming a resentment with which false appearances have inspired you! Consider with horror the melancholy consequences of a too rash judgment! Behold in me a dreadful example of the consequence of being led away by pa.s.sion, and of yielding, without reflection, to its imprudent follies. Heaven blessed me with children; but having been separated from them from their earliest infancy, the day at length came when we were to be reunited. Not knowing them, and being blinded by pa.s.sion, I abused the power with which I was invested. I had them bound upon planks and thrown into the sea. The man whom you threaten with death alone escaped from perishing in the waves, and must I this day be the witness of his death? Behold the reward of my guilty rashness! My heart is filled with bitterness, and tears will flow from mine eyes till they are closed in death."

During this discourse, the King stood motionless through astonishment.

It was his own history he had just heard. The man who spoke was his father, and the supposed criminal his brother!

Having happily acquired, in the exercise of power, the habit of self-command, he knew how to shun the dangers of too sudden a discovery. Nature, however, yielded at length to his eagerness, and he affectionately embraced the author of his life. He ordered his brother to be set free from those shameful chains with which envy had bound him. He made himself known to him; and after mutual consolation.

"Behold," said he to his divan, "to what a dreadful evil I should have exposed myself, had I lightly credited the detractions of slander, and, upon your artful reports, had hastened the punishment which you so eagerly urged! Go, and be ashamed! Was there one among you all who supported innocence?"

After these few words, the King retired into his apartments with his father and brother. He admitted them to a share in all the joys of his Court, and sent twenty slaves, magnificently dressed, in quest of his mother. This family, so happily reunited, lived in the blessings of the most affectionate unity, grateful to the Almighty, and faithful to the law written by His great Prophet, till the moment when they were called, by the decree of fate, from this world to a better.

Aladin, having thus finished the history of "Illage Mahomet, or the Imprudent," added some reflections fitted to make an impression on the mind of the King, whose attention he had been so fortunate as to engage.

"Sire!" said he to him, "if the son, when he became a King, had conducted himself as rashly as the father when he was a minister, innocence would have been sacrificed to jealousy and ambition, and a whole family devoted for life to misery and remorse. There is always something gained by delay. Appearances are equally against me, and envy hath availed itself of them to make me appear guilty; but I have Heaven and your wisdom on my side."

When the young man had done speaking, Bohetzad turned towards his ministers.

"I do not mean," said he, "that crimes should remain unpunished. But truth, even when it comes from the mouth of an enemy, ought to be esteemed precious. This criminal hath well remarked, that there can be nothing lost by taking time to reflect. Let him be carried back to prison."

The Viziers were enraged. Delay might discover the truth, through the cloud under which they had concealed it. As they jointly endeavoured to conceal the stratagems they had devised in secret, the third among them went early the next day to the palace.

The King inquired if the interval that had elapsed had produced no new light.

"Sire," replied this minister, "the police which, under your Majesty's orders, we exercise, maintains the peace of your capital, and all would be perfectly quiet if the throne were avenged of the outrage of this son of a villain, whose punishment your Majesty still delays. The people are murmuring at it, and I should have thought myself wanting in my duty had I concealed from you their uneasiness, the consequences of which may be dangerous. It is never too soon to prevent a rebellion, and that which is now forming would be extremely fatal."

Constrained by these observations, the King commanded the criminal to be brought before him.

"Unhappy man!" said he to him, "thou shalt never summon me to the tribunal of Heaven for having hastened thy punishment. I have listened to all the weak shifts by which thou hast defended thyself. I have weighed their value. But reserve and circ.u.mspection have an end. My people murmur. Their patience and mine is exhausted. Heaven and earth look to me for justice, and thou hast reached thy last moment."

"Sire," replied the modest Aladin, "do the people look for an example of your justice? Impatience is the fault of the people. But patience ought always to sit upon the throne, amidst the virtues which form its basis and safety. This virtue, necessary to all, and which calls upon us for that resignation which we owe to the eternal decrees, raised the patient Abosaber from the bottom of a well even to the throne."

"Who is this Abosaber?" asked the King. "Give me a short account of his history."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE HISTORY OF ABOSABER THE PATIENT.

Sire (said Aladin), Abosaber, surnamed the Patient, was a wealthy and generous man, who lived in a village which he rendered happy by his charities. He was hospitable and beneficent to the poor, and every one that applied to him. His granaries were full, his ploughs were continually at work, his flocks covered the plains, and he maintained plenty in the country. He had a wife and two children, and the happiness of this way of life was disturbed by nothing but the devastations of a monstrous lion, which ravaged the stables and folds belonging to the peaceful cultivators of these happy regions, according to its necessities and those of its young.

The wife of Abosaber wanted her husband, at the head of his people, to hunt this animal, by whose devastation they, on account of their riches, were more particularly affected.