THE HISTORY OF ILLAGE MAHOMET AND HIS SONS.
There was, in the city of Naka in Tartary, a merchant, whose name was Illage Mahomet, who, wishing to extend his commerce to the most remote boundaries of the world, constructed a vessel in such a manner as to be able to endure the longest voyage and carry a considerable burden. When this ship was ready to go to sea, he filled it with merchandise; and observing that the wind was favourable, he took leave of his wife, embraced his three children, went on board, and sailed with a fair wind for the Indies.
A fortunate voyage having, in a short time, brought him to the port of the capital of India, he took lodgings, and placed his merchandise in the kan. Quite at ease respecting the fate of his effects, he then visited the different quarters of the city, accompanied by four slaves, and soon entered into friendship with the most celebrated merchants of the place. As his attendants had orders to publish the nature of his merchandise, and to distribute patterns of them, a crowd of purchasers resorted to his magazines.
The King of India was accustomed to come out of his palace in order to walk through the town, and inform himself of what was going on there, under a disguise which rendered it impossible he should be known. Chance having directed his steps to the neighbourhood of the kan, he was anxious to know what drew everybody there. He saw this foreign merchant, whom a happy and engaging physiognomy, with a gracious address, announced in a very favourable manner. He heard him answer, with good breeding and perspicuity, the questions that were put to him, and saw him conduct his affairs with an openness which gained the confidence of all. He was desirous of having some conversation with him; but the fear of being discovered made him renounce his design for the present. He returned to his palace as quickly as he could, resumed the dress which became his dignity, and sent for this honourable merchant. The merchant quickly obeyed the will of the monarch. He was admitted into his presence, and the King expressed his desire to be acquainted with him.
"Sire," replied the merchant, "I was born and established in Naka, near Mount Caucasus. Commerce is my profession. The favour and liberty which your Majesty grants it have directed my speculations to your dominions, and Heaven hath favoured my voyage."
The King, satisfied with the simple and noble reply of this stranger, wished to find out more particularly the amount of his knowledge, by showing, by turns, curiosity on some subjects and embarrassment on others; but he was equally pleased with all his answers. Convinced, by all that he had heard, that the stranger's abilities were far beyond those necessary for trade, he determined to attach him to his own service by raising him to the highest office. It was not the design of the Sovereign to try the stranger by the allurements of honour; but, knowing that distinguished merit may become useless in an inferior station, and is frequently only the object of envy, he gave him the office of Grand Vizier, in order that it might afford him an opportunity of displaying to greater advantage his knowledge and ability. Illage received this favour with expressions of respect and gratitude.
"I should have considered myself as too much honoured, sire, in being admitted into the number of the slaves who surround your throne. The dignity of the honourable office to which you have called me far surpasses my merit and pretensions; but the high idea which I have conceived of your Majesty inspires me with an unbounded zeal for your service, and a confidence that I shall be wholly devoted to it."
The monarch, still more pleased with his new minister, ordered him a magnificent robe, assigned him for lodgings a palace in the neighbourhood of his own, and caused him to be installed in his new dignity. The Prince had no reason to repent of his choice, which might appear rash. The new minister sat in the divan on the right hand of his master. He was never embarrassed in the discussion of affairs, however intricate. He had great sagacity in understanding every report concerning them. Justice and equity were summed up in his decisions, so that the people and the monarch enjoyed, under the administration of this enlightened minister, all the blessings of a wise government.
Two years passed in labour and great employments; but at last nature resumed her rights. The Vizier, separated so long from a family which he tenderly loved, felt a desire to see them. The first request which he made on this subject alarmed the Sovereign. But he had a soul of sensibility; he could not long resist the voice of nature, and permitted his minister to undertake a voyage which he limited to a certain period, assuring him that if he brought his whole family along with him he should never be exposed to any uneasiness in his service. With this permission, the Vizier embarked for Naka in a vessel of war, of which he had the command.
The family of this merchant of Tartary, being entirely ignorant of his fate since the time of his departure, were abandoned to the most cruel uneasiness. Fortunately, a merchant of the country, returning from India, had given them news of him, and restored tranquillity to the family, who were raised to the summit of joy on hearing of the elevation and success of him on whose account they were alarmed. The wife of Illage determined that moment to repair to her husband, less to share his glory than his love. She set her affairs in order, and, after having taken every necessary step, she embarked with the same merchant who had given her the consolatory news.
After some days' sailing, the vessel which carried them cast anchor near an island where they were to land and exchange merchandise. Contrary winds had obliged Illage to land at the same place. He had hired a lodging pretty near the harbour, and, being fatigued with the bad weather which he had met with, had thrown himself upon a bed in order to take repose. His spouse, who lived in an opposite quarter of the city, soon learned that a vessel had arrived on its way from India, and that it had sailed from the capital. She sent her children to ask the news concerning the Grand Vizier, thinking it impossible but that they should be able to receive some.
The young people went from the inn where their mother was, running, the one after the other, till they had come under the windows of the apartment where the Vizier was at rest. They took possession of a little eminence on which a number of bales of goods were collected to keep them dry. The thoughtless youths went to play on the bales, trying which of the two could push down his brother. These playful lads, disputing with address and roguery, announced their victory or their defeat by such piercing shouts that they awoke the Vizier.
He lost his patience: he went to the window to check the noise, and, leaning over it, three diamonds, which the King had given him, fell from his fingers. The agitation of the sea had already stirred up the minister's choler; the habit of command rendered him incapable of forbearance; and, the island on which he was being within the jurisdiction of his government, he ordered these troublesome children to be taken into custody. He came down himself to search for his diamonds; but, amidst such confusion, this search was fruitless. Driven by degrees to indignation and fury, he accused the children, not only of being the cause of the loss of his diamonds, but even of having stolen them. Their innocence could not defend them against prejudice. He punished them with the bastinado, and then caused each of them to be tied to a board and cast into the sea. The innocent victims, expecting a cruel death, became the sport of the waves and billows.
Meanwhile night approached, and the spouse of Illage, not seeing her children return, uneasy, and bathed in tears, went out to seek them. The neighbours could tell her nothing of them. She ran from street to street, without meeting any person who could satisfy her well-founded impatience. This tender mother came at last to the harbour. There, from the description she gave of the three persons who were the object of her search and the cause of her uneasiness, a sailor replied to her,
"Madam, the young people whom you inquire after are the same whom a powerful man, lately arrived from India, hath punished by his slaves for a theft which he imputed to them. They gave them the bastinado, tied them to a plank, and, by his order, threw them into the sea."
At these words, the unhappy mother filled the air with her shrieks and groans: she rent her clothes and tore her hair. "O my children," said she, "where is the Vizier your father, to revenge me on the man who hath murdered my children?"
Her despair struck the ear of her husband, who was not far distant. He seemed to know the voice, and learned that it was that of the inconsolable mother whose children he had condemned to death. The cry of nature resounded in his heart, and he no longer doubted that the children he had punished were his own. He hastened to the unfortunate woman whose misery he had occasioned, and immediately knew her.
"Ah, barbarian that I am, I have been the murderer of our children! Fatal power with which I am invested! blinded by thee, I had not time allowed me to be just! I am the executioner of my own children!"
As he spoke these words, all the signs of the most violent despair were painted in his countenance, and manifested themselves by every sort of extravagance. His wife sank at his feet under the weight of her grief.
"Do not pardon me," added he: "I am a monster; and so much the more criminal as I am at this moment placed beyond the reach of the law. I must for ever be torn by my own remorse and loaded with your reproaches. I thought myself injured, and I hastened to revenge myself, without taking time to reflect. I saw a crime where there was none, and let fall the stroke upon innocence without thinking it would rebound upon myself."
"You see, sire," continued Aladin, "what cause this Vizier had to repent his believing these children guilty upon a deceitful appearance, and his having hurried on a severe punishment without reflecting on whom it was to fall. He forgot that a regard to futurity ought to regulate the present."
The unfortunate minister, disgusted with glory and opulence, renounced the search for his diamonds, abandoned the vessel and its lading, and supporting the tottering steps of a weeping mother, they both walked along the shore of the sea mournfully demanding of it the treasures which the Vizier had cruelly committed to the inconstancy of its waves.
"Your Majesty," continued Aladin, "will pardon me, if, for a short time, I make you lose sight of this disconsolate pair, while I fix your attention on their unhappy children."
The billows, to whose caprice they had been abandoned, were so agitated that, although they were frequently thrown against one another, they were immediately separated again. One of them, after having struggled for two days against the billows, and after having escaped the danger of being dashed to pieces on the rocks against which he was continually driven, found himself, all at once, ashore on the coast of a neighbouring kingdom. The chains which fixed him to the plank were much worn by the sea, and notwithstanding his fatigue and hunger, he had still strength enough to disengage himself from them, and reach the land. He there found an officer who was going to refresh his horse at the stream of a neighbouring fountain. This man, affected with the sight of the unfortunate child, gave him part of his clothes, set him behind him, and carried him to his own house. There nourishing food and repose completely recovered the shipwrecked youth.
After decently dressing him, his benefactor presented him to the King, already informed of the event.
The happy physiognomy of the young man made an impression on the King, and his answers soon completed the very favourable opinion he had of him. He became a distinguished officer in the palace, where his conduct gained the complete esteem and confidence of his Sovereign. This Prince, to whom Heaven had not granted children, thought he could not do his people a greater service than by adopting the youth, whom fortune had thrown into his arms. His choice was applauded by the whole Court, and confirmed by the divan. The people were happy, and the abilities of the young Prince soon placed him in the number of the most valiant Kings of Asia. Age and infirmities rendered the King unable to support the weight of the government, and he abdicated the sceptre in favour of his adopted son. He saw him married, and thus terminating his career of glory, calmly resigned his life into the hands of his Creator.
The young Sovereign, bewailing the loss of his benefactor, gave himself up to the justest sorrow. He wished to fulfil the duties of gratitude and piety, and summoned his divan, that he might honour the ashes of his predecessor by prayers and solemn ceremonies. The people repaired to the mosques. The Imam, the Nabib, the dervishes, and all those who serve at them, paid to his memory the homage which was due to it. He caused many alms to be distributed among the poor and through all the hospitals of the kingdom. These religious duties early announced the wisdom of his government, and they were not proved false by the event. He was always a just and active King, and governed his people with the affection of a father.
In this manner did fortune snatch from the fury of the waves one of the Vizier's children, to raise him to the summit of greatness. But this unhappy father continued to grieve for the loss of his two sons, until, in one of the islands where he had his residence, he heard the Dellal proclaim, with a loud voice, that there was a young slave to be sold, and that the curious were invited to come and examine him. Illage stopped, looked at the young man, and, constrained by a feeling of which he knew not the cause, he determined to purchase him.
The figure of this stranger had attractions which he could not resist. His age corresponded to that of one of his own children; and if the beauty of his features was a true indication of the virtues of his mind, he hoped he would supply the place of one of those whom he had lost. He returned home with his new purchase.
His wife, who perceived them at a distance, recognized the youth, and was about to throw herself into his arms, but sank under this unexpected surprise. But although her joy deprived her of the use of her senses, she was still able to utter the name of her son. The attention of her husband, and that of the young man, who bathed her with his tears, recalled her to life. The father, affected with what he saw, recognized the cry of nature, and returning thanks to Heaven for the unexpected favour he had received, mingled together his tears and caresses at this moving picture, and partook of the happiness of an unlooked-for discovery. Nevertheless, he was tormented by a new uneasiness: the presence of his son recalled to him his brother—"What is become of him?"
"Alas!" replied the young man, "the waves soon separated the planks on which we were carried, and I can tell you nothing of his fate."
This answer redoubled the affliction of the husband and wife; but they seemed to be comforted with the hope of another blessing similar to that which they had just received; and in this pleasing expectation their tenderness centred on the beloved son whom Heaven had at length restored to their arms.
Several years had elapsed. Achib, the son of Illage, grew stronger every day. He acquired knowledge, and became capable of following commerce, in which his father had instructed him. Seeing him fit even to undertake a profitable voyage, his father purchased a ship, loaded it with merchandise, and destined it for the capital of the islands in which they were settled, entrusting him with the management of it. Upon his arrival in the capital, Achib hired a storehouse in the kan, deposited his goods there, and passed some days in arranging them to advantage.
The Feast of the Ramezan came. The young man, a faithful Mussulman, possessed the art of singing so perfectly, that he was able to fulfil with dignity the functions of the Imam.[14] He dressed himself in his faragi, and went to the principal mosque. There the King, with all his Court and the grandees of the kingdom, were present at the noonday service. The young man took his place near the King, and when the Athib[15] mounted the pulpit and began to chaunt the Falhea,[16] Achib repeated three times, Alla Akbar.
[14] Imam is a priest who reads and explains the Koran.
[15] Athib is a reader who chaunts over the prayers in plain song.
[16] Falhea, the Mahommedan Confession of Faith.
The assembly, 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 assurance. 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 surpassed.
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 amusement 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 assembled 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 gratitude 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 amusements 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 embarrassed 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 illustrious 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 passion, 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 passion, 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 circumspection 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."
