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Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf Part 49

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"When fifteen summers had pa.s.sed o'er my head, I stood on the battle-field strewn with the dead.

For the day of the Moslem's glory Had made me an orphan child, and there My sire was stretched; and his bosom bare Showed a gaping wound; and the flowing hair Of his head was damp and gory.

"My sire was the chief of the patriot band, That had fought and died for their native land, When her rightful prince betrayed her; On his kith and kin did the vengeance fall Of the Mussulman foes--and each and all Were swept from the old ancestral hall, Save myself, by the fierce invader!

"And I was spared from that blood-stained grave To be dragged away as the Moslem's slave, And bend to the foe victorious,-- But, O Greece! to thee does my memory turn Its longing eyes--and my heart-strings yearn To behold thee rise in thy might and spurn, As of yore, thy yoke inglorious!

"But oh! whither has Spartan courage fled?

And why, proud Athens! above thine head Is the Mussulman crescent gleaming?

Have thine ancient memories no avail?

And art thou not fired at the legend tale Which reminds thee how the whole world grew pale, And recoiled from thy banners streaming?"

"Enough, boy," exclaimed Ibrahim: then in a low tone, he murmured to himself, "The Christians have indeed much cause to anathematize the encroachments and tyranny of the Moslems."

There was a short pause, during which the grand vizier was absorbed in profound meditation, while the Greek page never once withdrew his eyes from the countenance of that high functionary.

"Boy," at length said Ibrahim, "you appear attached to me. I have observed many proofs of your devotion during the few months that you have been in my service. Speak--is there aught that I can do to make you happy? Have you relations or friends who need protection? If they be poor, I will relieve their necessities."

"My lips cannot express the grat.i.tude which my heart feels toward your highness," returned the page, "but I have no friends in behalf of whom I might supplicate the bounty of your highness."

"Are you yourself happy, Constantine?" asked Ibrahim.

"Happy in being permitted to attend upon your highness," was the reply, delivered in a soft and tremulous tone.

"But is it in my power to render you happier?" demanded the grand vizier.

Constantine hung down his head--reflected for a few moments, and then murmured "Yes."

"Then, by Heaven!" exclaimed Ibrahim Pasha, "thou hast only to name thy request, and it will be granted. I know not wherefore, but I am attached to thee much. I feel interested in thy welfare, and I would be rejoiced to minister to thy happiness."

"I am already happier than I was--happier, because my lips have drunk in such words flowing from the lips of one who is exalted as highly as I am insignificant and humble." said the page, in a voice tremulous with emotion, but sweetly musical. "Yes, I am happier," he continued--"and yet my soul is filled with the image of a dear, a well-beloved sister, who pines in loneliness and solitude, ever dwelling on a hapless love which she has formed for one who knows not that he is so loved, and who perhaps may never--never know it."

"Ah, thou hast a sister, Constantine?" exclaimed the grand vizier. "And is she as lovely as a sister of a youth so handsome as thou art ought to be?"

"She has been a.s.sured by those who have sought her hand, that she is indeed beautiful," answered Constantine. "But of what avail are her charms, since he whom she loves may never whisper in her ear the delicious words, 'I love thee in return.'"

"Does the object of her affections possess so obdurate a heart?"

inquired the grand vizier, strangely interested in the discourse of his youthful page.

"It is not that he scorns my sister's love," replied Constantine; "but it is that he knows not of its existence. It is true that he has seen her once--yet 'twere probable that he remembers not there is such a being in the world. Thus came it to pa.s.s, my lord--an officer, holding a high rank in the service of his imperial majesty, the great Solyman, had occasion to visit a humble dwelling wherein my sister resided. She--poor silly maiden! was so struck by his almost G.o.d-like beauty--so dazzled by his fascinating address--so enchanted by the sound of his voice, that she surrendered up her heart suddenly and secretly--surrendered it beyond all power of reclamation. Since then she has never ceased to ponder upon this fatal pa.s.sion--this unhappy love; she has nursed his image in her mind, until her reason has rocked with the wild thoughts, the ardent hopes, the emotions of despair--all the conflicting sentiments of feeling, in a word, which so ardent and so strange a love must naturally engender. Enthusiastic, yet tender; fervent, yet melting in her soul; and while she does not attempt to close her eyes to the conviction that she is cherishing a pa.s.sion which is preying upon her very vitals, she nevertheless clings to it as a martyr to the stake! Oh!

my lord, canst thou marvel if I feel deeply for my unhappy sister?"

"But wherefore doth she remain thus unhappy?" demanded Ibrahim-Pasha.

"Surely there are means of conveying to the object of her attachment an intimation how deeply he is beloved? and he must be something more than human," he added, in an impa.s.sioned tone, "if he can remain obdurate to the tears and sighs of a beauteous creature, such as thy sister doubtless is."

"And were he to spurn her from him--oh! your highness, it would kill her!" said the page, fixing his large, eloquent eyes upon the countenance of the grand vizier. "Consider his exalted rank and her humble position----"

"Doth she aspire to become his wife?" asked Ibrahim.

"She would be contented to serve him as his veriest slave," responded Constantine, now strangely excited, "were he but to look kindly upon her: she would deem herself blest in receiving a smile from his lips, so long as it was bestowed as a reward for all the tender love she bears him."

"Who is this man that is so fortunate as to have excited so profound an interest in the heart of one so beautiful?" demanded the grand vizier.

"Name him to me--I will order him to appear before me--and, for thy sake, I will become an eloquent pleader on behalf of thy sister."

Words cannot express the joy which flashed from the eyes of the page, and animated his handsome though softly feminine countenance, as, casting himself on his knees at the feet of Ibrahim Pasha, he murmured, "Great lord, that man whom my sister loves, and for whom she would lay down her life, is thyself!"

Ibrahim was for some minutes too much overcome by astonishment to offer an observation--to utter a word; while the page remained kneeling at his feet. Then suddenly it flashed to the mind of the grand vizier that the only humble abode which he had entered since he had become an officer holding a high rank in the service of Solyman, was that of his Greek emissary, Demetrius; and it now occurred to him, that there was a striking likeness between the young page and the beautiful Calanthe: whom he had seen on that occasion.

"Constantine," he said, at length, "art thou, then, the brother of that Demetrius whom I dispatched some three months ago to Florence?"

"I am, my lord--and 'tis our sister Calanthe of whom I have spoken," was the reply. "Oh! pardon my arrogance--my presumption, great vizier!" he continued, suddenly rising from his kneeling position, and now standing with his arms meekly folded across his breast--"pardon the arrogance, the insolence of my conduct," he exclaimed; "but it was for the sake of my sister that I sought service in the household of your highness. I thought that if I could succeed in gaining your notice--if in any way I could obtain such favor in your eyes as to be admitted to speak with one so highly raised above me as thou art, I fancied that some opportunity would enable me to make those representations which have issued from my lips this day. How patiently I have waited that occasion, Heaven knows!

how ardent have been my hopes of success, when from time to time your highness singled me out from amongst the numerous free pages of your princely household to attend upon your privacy--how ardent, I say, these hopes have been, your highness may possibly divine. And now, my lord, that I _have_ succeeded in gaining your attention and pouring this secret into your ears, I will away to Calanthe and impart all the happiness that is in store for her. Though the flowers may hold up their heads high in the light of the glorious sun, yet she shall hold hers higher in the favor of your smile. Generous master," he added, suddenly sinking his voice to a lower tone and rea.s.suming the deferential air which he had partially lost in the excitement of speaking, "permit me now to depart."

"This evening, Constantine," said the grand vizier, fixing his dark eyes significantly upon the page, "let your sister enter the harem by the private door in the garden. Here is a key; I will give the necessary instructions to the female slaves to welcome her."

Constantine received the key, made a low obeisance, and withdrew, leaving the grand vizier to feast his voluptuous imagination with delicious thoughts of the beauteous Calanthe.

CHAPTER LIII.

THE SULTANA VALIDA--THE THREE BLACK SLAVES.

In the meantime the Princess Aischa, the now neglected wife of the grand vizier, had repaired to the imperial seraglio to obtain an interview with her brother, Solyman the Magnificent. The sultan, as the reader has already learnt, was deeply attached to Aischa. Their mother, the sultana, or empress mother, who was still alive, occupied apartments in the seraglio. Her children entertained the greatest respect for her: and her influence over the sultan, who possessed an excellent heart, though his sway was not altogether unstained by cruelties, was known to be great.

It was therefore to her mother and her brother that the beautiful Aischa proceeded; and when she was alone with them in the Valida's apartment, and removed her veil, they immediately noticed that she had been weeping. Upon being questioned relative to the cause of her sorrow, she burst into an agony of tears, and was for some time unable to reply. At length, half regretting that she had taken the present step, Aischa slowly revealed her various causes of complaint against the grand vizier.

"By Allah!" exclaimed the sultan, "the ungrateful Ibrahim shall not thus spurn and neglect the costly gift which I, his master, condescended to bestow upon him! What! when the Shah of Persia, the Khan of the Tartars, and the Prince of Karamania all sought thine hand, and dispatched emba.s.sadors laden with rich gifts to our court to demand thee in marriage, did I not send them back with cold words of denial to their sovereigns? And was it to bestow thee, my sister, on this ungrateful boy, who was so late naught save a dog of a Christian, ready to eat the dirt under our imperial feet,--was it to bestow thee on such an one as he, that I refused the offers of the Persian Shah! By the tomb of the prophet! this indignity shall cease!"

"Restrain your wrath, my son," said the Sultana Valida. "Ibrahim must not be openly disgraced: the effects of his punishment would redound on our beloved Aischa. No--rather intrust this affair to me; and fear not that I shall fail in compelling this haughty pasha to return to the arms of his wife--ay, and implore her pardon for his late neglect."

"Oh! dearest mother, if thou canst accomplish this," exclaimed Aischa, her countenance becoming animated with joy and her heart palpitating with hope, "thou wouldst render me happy indeed."

"Trust to me, daughter," replied the Sultana Valida. "In the meantime seek not to learn my intentions; but, on thy return home, send me by some trusty slave thy pa.s.s-key to the harem. And thou, my son, wilt lend me thine imperial signet-ring for twelve hours!"

"Remember," said the sultan, as he drew the jewel from his finger, "that he who wears that ring possesses a talisman of immense power--a sign which none to whom it is shown dares disobey; remember this, my mother, and use it with caution."

"Fear not, my dearly beloved son," answered the Sultana Valida, concealing the ring in her bosom. "And now, Aischa, do you return to the palace of your haughty husband, who ere twelve hours be pa.s.sed, shall sue for pardon at thy feet."

The sultan and Aischa both knew that their mother was a woman of powerful intellect and determined character; and they sought not to penetrate into the secret of her intentions.

Solyman withdrew to preside at a meeting of the divan; and Aischa returned to the palace of the grand vizier, attended by the slaves who had waited for her in an anteroom leading to her mother's apartments.

It was now late in the afternoon, and the time for evening prayer had arrived ere the Sultana Valida received the pa.s.s-key to Ibrahim Pasha's harem. But the moment it was conveyed to her, she summoned to her presence three black slaves, belonging to the corps of the bostanjis, or gardeners, who also served as executioners, when a person of rank was to be subjected to the process of bowstring, or when any dark deed was to be accomplished in silence and with caution. Terrible appendages to the household of Ottoman sultans were the black slaves belonging to that corps--like snakes, they insinuated themselves, noiselessly and ominously into the presence of their victims, and it were as vain to preach peace to the warring elements which G.o.d alone can control, as to implore mercy at the hands of those remorseless Ethiopians!

To the three black slaves did the Sultana Valida issue her commands; and to the eldest she intrusted Solyman's signet-ring and the pa.s.s-key which Aischa had sent her. The slaves bowed three times to the empress mother--laid their hands on their heads to imply that they would deserve decapitation if they neglected the orders they had received--and then withdrew. There was something terribly sinister in their appearance, as they retired noiselessly but rapidly through the long, silent and darkened corridors of the imperial harem.

It was night--and the moon shone softly and sweetly upon the mighty city of Constantinople, tipping each of its thousand spires and pinnacles as with a star.

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Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf Part 49 summary

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