Home

The Pacha of Many Tales Part 28

The Pacha of Many Tales - novelonlinefull.com

You’re read light novel The Pacha of Many Tales Part 28 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy

Having finished her address, the beauteous princess let fall her veil, and was silent. A shout of applause was followed by wild strummings and tunings of mandolins, and occasional scratching of heads or turbans, to remember all that Hafiz had ever written, or to aid their attempts at improviso versification. Time flew on, and no one of the young rayahs appeared inclined to begin. At last one stepped forward, and named the rose, in a borrowed couplet. He was dismissed with a graceful wave of the hand by the princess, and broke his mandolin in his vexation, as he quitted the hall of audience. And thus did they continue, one after another, to name flower after flower, and quit the hall of audience in despair. Then might these beautiful youths, as they all stood before the princess, be compared, themselves, to the most beauteous flowers, strong rooted in their hopes, and basking in the sun of her presence; and, as their hopes were cut off; what were they but the same flowers severed from their stalks, and drooping before the sunny beams, now too powerful to be borne, or loaded with the dew of tears, removed to fade away unheeded? There were but few left, when Mezrimbi, who had, as he thought, hit upon the right name, and who, watching the countenance of Acota, which had an air of impatient indifference upon it, which induced Mezrimbi to suppose that he had lighted upon the same idea, and might forestall him, stepped forward with his mandolin. Mezrimbi was considered one of the best poets in Souffra; in fact, he had every talent, but not one virtue. He bent forward in an elegant att.i.tude, and sang as follows:--

"Who does the nightingale love? Alas! we Know. She sings of her love in the silence of Night, and never tells the name of her adored one.

"What are flowers but the language of love?

And does not the nightingale rest her breast Upon the thorn as she pours out her plaintive notes?

"Take then out of thy bosom the sweet flower of May Which is hidden there, emblematical of thy love, And the pleasing pain that it has occasioned."

When Mezrimbi had finished the two first verses, the beauteous princess started with fear that he had gained her secret, and it was with a feeling of agony that she listened to the last; agony succeeded by a flow of joy, at his not having been successful. Impatiently she waved her hand, and as impatiently did Mezrimbi depart from her presence.

Acota then stepped forward, and after a prelude, the beauty of which astonished all those around the queen's person, for they had no idea that he could play in tune, sang in a clear melodious voice the following stanzas:--

"Sweet, blushing cheek! the rose is there, Thy breath, the fragrance of its bowers; Lilies are on thy bosom fair, And e'en thy very words seem flowers.

"But lily, rose, or flower, that blows In India's garden, on thy breast Must meet its death--by breathing sweets Where it were ecstasy to rest.

"A blossom from a nettle ta'en.

Is in thy beauteous bosom bound, Born amid stings, it gives no pain, 'Tis sweetness among venom found."

Acota was silent. The beauteous princess, as the minstrel finished, rose slowly and tremulously from her cushions, and taking the blossom of a nettle from her bosom, placed it in the hands of the happy Acota, saying, with a great deal of piety, "It is the will of Heaven."

"But how was it possible for Acota to find out that the princess had a nettle blossom in her bosom?" interrupted the pacha. "No man could ever have guessed it. I can't make that out. Can you, Mustapha?"

"Your sublime highness is right; no man ever could have guessed such a thing," replied Mustapha. "There is but one way to account for it, which is, that the princess must have told him her intentions when they were alone in the royal garden."

"Very true, Mustapha--well, thank Allah, the princess is married at last."

"I beg pardon of your sublime highness, but the beauteous princess is not yet married," said Menouni; "the story is not yet finished."

"Wallah el nebi!" exclaimed the pacha. "By G.o.d and his Prophet, is she never to be married?"

"Yes, your sublime highness, but not just yet. Shall I proceed?"

"Yes, Menouni, and the faster you get on the better."

Amidst the cries of "Long live Acota, Souffraria's legitimate king."

"Legitimate. Pray, good Menouni, what may that word mean?"

"Legitimate, your sublime highness, implies that a king and his descendants are chosen by Allah to reign over a people."

"Well, but I don't see that Allah had much to do with the choice of Acota."

"Nor with the choice of any other king, I suspect, your sublime highness; but still the people were made to believe so, and that is all that is sufficient. Allah does not interfere in the choice of any but those who reign over true believers. The sultan is the Holy Prophet's vicegerent on earth--and he, guided by the Prophet, invests virtue and wisdom with the kalaats of dignity, in the persons of his pachas."

"Very true," said the pacha, "the sultan is guided by Allah, and,"

continued he in a low tone to Mustapha, "a few hundred purses to boot.

Menouni, you may proceed."

Amidst the cries of "Long live Acota, Souffraria's legitimate king!"

Acota was led to the throne by the attendant grandees of the nation, where he received the homage of all present. It was arranged by the grandees and mollahs that the marriage should take place the next day.

The a.s.sembly broke up, and hastened in every direction to make preparations for the expected ceremony.

But who can describe the jealousy, the envy, and the indignation which swelled in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of Mezrimbi and his father, the chief brahmin?

They met, they consulted, they planned, and they schemed. Acota was not yet king, although he was proclaimed as such--he was not king until his marriage with the beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu, "the cream tart of delight," and should he be scarred or blemished before the marriage of the ensuing day, then must the brahmin, by the will of the old king, choose his successor; and who could he choose but his own son?

"Father," said young Mezrimbi, his beautiful countenance distorted by the vilest pa.s.sions of Jehanum, "I have planned as follows:--I have mutes ready to obey my wishes, and a corrosive burning acid, which will eat deeply into the flesh of the proud Acota. I know that he will pa.s.s the time away in the garden of the royal grove. I know even the bower in which he hath wooed and won the fair princess. Let us call these mutes, explain to them what we wish, and by to-morrow's sun the throne of Souffraria will fall to the race of Mezrimbi. Are we not of the purest blood of the plains, and is not Acota but a rayah of the mountains?"

And the chief brahmin was pleased with his son's proposal; the mutes were summoned, the black, tongueless, everythingless, hideous creatures, bowed in their humility, and followed their master, who, with the chief brahmin, ventured by a circuitous rout to invade the precincts of the royal grove. Slowly and cautiously did they proceed towards the bower, where, as Mezrimbi had truly said, Acota was waiting for his beloved princess. Fortunately, as they approached, a disturbed snake, hissing in his anger, caused an exclamation from the old brahmin, which aroused Acota from his delicious reverie. Through the foliage he perceived and recognised Mezrimbi, his father, and the mutes. Convinced that they meditated mischief towards himself, he secreted himself among the rose-bushes, lying prostrate on the ground; but in his haste, he left his cloak and mandolin. Mezrimbi entered the bower, and explained to the mutes by signs what it was which he desired, showed them the cloak and mandolin to make known the object of his wrath, and put into their hands the bottle of corrosive acid. They satisfied him that they comprehended his wishes, and the party then retired, the chief brahmin quitting the grove for his own house, the mutes lying in wait under some bushes for the arrival of Acota, and Mezrimbi walking away into the recesses of the grove, anxious as to the issue of the plot. Acota, perfectly aware of what was intended, laughed in his sleeve, and thanked Allah for this fortunate discovery; he crawled away on his hands and knees, so as not to be perceived, and hid himself, with his cloak and mandolin, watching in turn the motions of the others--and thus did all parties watch until the sun descended behind the blue hills which divided the kingdom of Souffraria from that of the other kingdom, which my treacherous memory has dared to forget in your highness's sublime presence. Mezrimbi was the only one who was not motionless: he paced up and down in all the anxiety of antic.i.p.ation and doubt, and at last he stopped, and, tired out with contending feelings, sat down at the foot of a tree, close to where Acota was concealed. The nightingale was pouring forth her sweet melody, and friendly to lovers, she continued it until Mezrimbi, who had listened to it, and whose angry feelings had been soothed with her dulcet strains, fell fast asleep. Acota perceived it, and approaching him softly, laid his cloak over him, and taking up his mandolin, struck a chord which he knew would not be lost upon the quick-eared mutes, although not so loud as to awake Mezrimbi. Acota was right; in a minute he perceived the dark beings crawling through the underwood like the jackals who had scented out their prey, and Acota was again concealed in the thick foliage. They approached like shadows in the dark, and perceived the sleeping Mezrimbi with the cloak of Acota and the mandolin, which Acota, after striking it, had laid by his side.

It was sufficient. Mezrimbi's face was covered with the burning acid before even he was awakened; his screams were smothered in a shawl, and satisfied with having obeyed the injunctions of their master, the mutes hastened back to report their success, taking, however, the precaution of tying the hands and feet of Mezrimbi, that he might not go home to receive any help in his distress. They escaped out of the gardens, and reported to the chief brahmin the success of the operations, and how they had left him, Acota, in the woods. The old Mezrimbi, upon reflection, thought it advisable that the person of Acota should be in his power, that he might be able to produce him when required upon the ensuing day. He therefore desired the mutes to go back and bring Acota to the house, keeping a strict guard that he might not escape.

When the mutes had quitted Mezrimbi, Acota rose from his hiding-place, and went towards the unfortunate wretch, who still groaned with pain, but his face was m.u.f.fled up in the shawl, so that his features were hidden. At first Acota had intended to have reviled and scoffed at his treacherous enemy, but his good heart forbade it. Another idea then came into his head. He took off the cloak of Mezrimbi, and subst.i.tuted his own; he exchanged turbans and scymitars, and then left him and went home. Shortly after Acota had quitted the wood, the mutes returned, lifted the miserable Mezrimbi on their shoulders and carried him to the house of the chief brahmin, who having ordered him to be guarded in an out-house, said his prayers, and went to bed.

The sun rose and poured his beaming rays upon the land of Souffraria, and thousands and thousands of the inhabitants had risen before him, to prepare for the day of delight, the day on which they were to be blessed with a king--the day on which the beauteous Princess Babe-bi-bobu, the cream tart of delight, was no longer to remain unmarried. Silks and satins from China, shawls and scarfs from Cashmere, jewels, and gold, and diamonds--horses and camels, and elephants, were to be seen spread over the plains, and the city of Souffra. All was joy, and jubilee, and feasting, and talking, for the beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu was that day to be married.

"I wish to Heaven she was," observed the pacha, impatiently.

"May it please your sublime highness, she soon will be."

At an early hour the proclamation was made, that the princess was about to take unto herself a husband from the high caste youths of Souffra, and that all whom it might concern should repair to the palace, to be present at the ceremony. As it concerned all Souffra--all Souffra was there. The sun had nearly reached to the zenith, and looked down almost enviously upon the gay scene beneath, broiling the brains of the good people of Souffra, whose heads paved, as it were, the country for ten square miles, when the beauteous Princess Babe-bi-bobu made her appearance in the hall of audience, attended by her maidens and the grandees of Souffra, who were the executors to her father's will. At the head of them was the chief brahmin, who looked anxiously among the crowd for his son Mezrimbi, who had not made his appearance that morning. At last he espied his rich dress, his mantle, his turban and jewelled scymitar, but his face was m.u.f.fled up in a shawl, and the chief brahmin smiled at the witty conceit of his son, that of having his own beauteous person unm.u.f.fled as well as that of the now _scarred_ Acota.

And then silence was commanded by a thousand brazen trumpets, and enforced by the discharge of two thousand pieces of artillery, ten square miles of people repeated the order for silence, in loud and reiterated shouts--and at last silence obeyed the order, and there was silence. The chief brahmin rose, and having delivered an extemporaneous prayer, suitable to the solemnity and importance of the occasion, he proceeded to read the will of the late king--he then descanted upon the Molean controversy, and how it was now an article of the Souffrarian faith, which it was heresy and impalement not to believe, that "moles were not scars, and only blemishes when they were considered so to be."

The choice of the princess, continued the learned brahmin, has however, not been made; she has left to chance that which was to have proceeded from her own free will, and that without consulting with the ministers of our holy religion. My heart told me yesterday that such was not right, and contrary not only to the king's will, but the will of Heaven; and I communed deeply on the subject after I had prayed nine times--and a dream descended on me in my sleep, and I was told that the conditions of the will would be fulfilled. How to explain this answer from above I know not: perhaps the youth who was fortunate in discovering the flower is also the youth of the princess's choice.

"Even so," replied the princess, in a soft melodious voice, "and therefore is my father's will obeyed."

"Where, then, is the fortunate youth?" said the chief brahmin; "let him appear."

Babe-bi-bobu, who, as well as others, had in vain looked round for Acota, was astonished at his not making his appearance, and still more so when he did, as they thought, appear, led in by the four black mutes, with his face enveloped in a shawl.

"This, then," said the chief brahmin, "is the favoured youth, Acota.

Remove the shawl, and lead him to the princess."

The mutes obeyed, and to the horror of Babe-bi-bobu, there stood Acota, as she thought, with a face so scarred and burnt, that his features were not distinguishable. She started from her throne, uttered one wild shriek, which was said to have been heard by the whole ten square miles of population, and fainted in the arms of her attendants.

"We know his dress, most n.o.ble grandees," continued the chief brahmin, "but how can we recognise in that object, the youth without scar or blemish? It is the will of Heaven," continued the chief brahmin, piously and reverently bending low. And all the other grandees replied in the same pious manner, "It is the will of Heaven."

Please click Like and leave more comments to support and keep us alive.

RECENTLY UPDATED MANGA

The Pacha of Many Tales Part 28 summary

You're reading The Pacha of Many Tales. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Frederick Marryat. Already has 603 views.

It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.

NovelOnlineFull.com is a most smartest website for reading manga online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to NovelOnlineFull.com