THE HISTORY OF THE PRINCESS CONTINUED.
As soon as, by our restoration to our pristine forms, we were apprised of your victory over the enchantress Ulin, I found myself in the seraglio of my father's palace. In the apartment from which I was taken by the wicked enchantress, I beheld my nurse Eloubrou: she was prostrate on the ground, and the palace was filled with her cries.
"Faithful Eloubrou," said I, "arise and look upon thy beloved Hemjunah. Where is my royal father Zebenezer, and the fond Chederazade, the mother of my heart?"
Eloubrou, at my voice, started up like one awakened from a trance. "What is it?" said she in emotion, "what is it I behold? Art thou the departed shade of my once-loved Hemjunah?"
"No shade, beloved Eloubrou," said I, running to her, "but the true Princess of Cassimir, whom Misnar the Sultan of India hath rescued from the enchantments of the wicked Ulin."
"Oh that thy royal mother," said Eloubrou, "were, like me, blessed with the sight of thy return!"
"What," said I "Eloubrou, what dost thou say? Where, then, is the much-honoured Chederazade? where the dear parent of my life?"
"Alas!" said Eloubrou, "who shall tell the dismal tale to thy tender heart?"
"Ah!" said I, "is my beloved mother no more? Is she gone to seek her disobedient daughter over the burning lake?"
At these words my spirit failed, and I sank motionless to the ground. But my lord must forgive me if I hasten over the dreadful scene that followed. The report of Eloubrou was too true: Chederazade, the dearest Chederazade, had been ten days dead when I was restored to my father's palace; and Zebenezer, distracted at the double loss of his consort and his child, had shut himself up in the tomb of my mother.
Eloubrou hastened to the tomb wherein my father poured forth his tears, and acquainted the guards who watched without that I was returned.
The sorrowful Zebenezer, although he was rejoiced at the news, resolved not to come forth out of his consort's tomb till the month was expired, according to his oath; and gave orders, that during that interval I should be obeyed by his subjects.
My mourning was not less poignant than my royal father's. I shut myself up in my apartments, and would suffer none but Eloubrou to see me.
Nine days passed in silence; our loss affected both, and Eloubrou was as little disposed as myself to forget the cause of her griefs. On the tenth morning, Eloubrou was called out by the Grand Vizier, who then had the command of my father's kingdom.
She returned in haste. "Princess of Cassimir," said she, "one who calleth himself Mahoud inquires for thee; and the Grand Vizier, understanding that he was instrumental in your release, waits without to know your will."
At the name of Mahoud I started from my reverie. "Mahoud," said I, "O Eloubrou! deserves my notice; and the son of the jeweller of Delhi shall be rewarded for his services to your mistress."
"Alas!" answered Eloubrou, "my lovely mistress is distracted with sorrows, and supposes the Prince Mahoud to be the offspring of a slave!"
"If he be a Prince," answered I, "he has hitherto concealed his circumstances and birth from me, or he is not that Mahoud whom I remember in the deserts of Tarapajan."
"That," answered Eloubrou, "you will soon discover when you see him. But," continued she, "he desires a private audience."
"Well, then," replied I, "introduce him, Eloubrou; but let my slaves be ready to enter at my call."
Eloubrou obeyed, and brought the merchant Mahoud into my presence, and then retired.
Mahoud fell at my feet, and said, "Forgive my presumption in approaching the throne of Cassimir, and that I have added hypocrisy to my boldness, by assuming the title of a Prince."
"What, then," answered I, sternly, "has induced you to deceive my Court?"
"Let death," said Mahoud, falling again before me, "let death atone for my crime; but first permit me to explain the motives of my presumption."
"Proceed," said I.
He then informed me that, after assuming his natural form, he visited Delhi, where he was spurned by Misnar and Horam, and had been compelled to beg his way to my dominions. A merchant of the city had furnished him with the robes in which he appeared. Then clapping my hands, Eloubrou appeared, and I said, "Eloubrou, let the Prince Mahoud be lodged in my father's palace, and let a proper number of slaves attend him; and do you acquaint the Vizier with his quality."
Eloubrou did as I commanded; and Mahoud, full of joy, fell down at my feet, and kissed the hem of my garment.
"Prince," said I, "arise; and Eloubrou shall conduct you to my father's palace."
A few days' experience made me repent my folly in giving credit to the falsehoods of Mahoud, for the insolent merchant got proud of his newly-assumed honours. He came daily, and was introduced to me, and every time assumed greater state; till at last he dared to declare his passion for me, and talked of asking my father's consent as soon as the days of his sorrow should be accomplished. Astonished at his insolence, I bade him depart from my presence, which he did reluctantly, muttering revenge as he went.
As soon as he was gone, I acquainted Eloubrou with Mahoud's story, his ridiculous and insolent behaviour, and that he had even dared to threaten me with revenge.
"The threats of Mahoud," said Eloubrou, "are of little consequence, though prudence should never esteem the least enemy unworthy of its notice; care shall, therefore, be taken of this insolent merchant."
While Eloubrou was giving the necessary instructions, one of the slaves entered the apartment, and gave me notice that Zebenezer, my father, expected me in the tomb immediately. I put on the solemn veil, and followed the guard to the tomb of Chederazade. I entered the lonely mansions of the dead with fear and trembling, and, at the upper end of the vaulted tomb, saw my father kneeling before the embalmed corpse of my mother.
"Unhappy Hemjunah," said the aged man, "come hither, and behold the sad remains of my dearest Chederazade."
Although my heart sank with grief, and my limbs tottered, yet I went to reach the place where Chederazade lay embalmed, and fell at the feet of my father Zebenezer.
"Rise," said he, "O daughter!" and caught me suddenly in his arms; when, oh fearful sight! I perceived his visage alter, and that the villanous Mahoud held me in his embrace.
Struck with horror and despair, I endeavoured to cry out, but in vain—my voice was gone, and the power of speech was taken from me.
"No," said he, with a fierce air, "your struggles and resistance, O prudent Princess, are all vain; for she who would join to deceive others must expect to be deceived when there is none to help her; therefore speech, if you resist, is taken from you."
"What," said I, "cruel Mahoud! is this the return my friendship deserves, when, to save you from infamy and slavery, I gave way to your entreaties, and represented you otherwise than you really were?"
"Friendship, O Princess," said he, "is built on virtue, which Mahoud has disclaimed since he entered into the service of the sage Hapacuson; and by her advice it was that he told you a false tale to deceive you to your own destruction. Had you not yielded to that tale, I could have had no power over you or your father; but it is our triumph to circumvent the prudence of Mahomet's children; wherefore, seeing you would not yield openly to my wishes, I had no sooner left you with Eloubrou, than, by Hapacuson's assistance, I entered this tomb invisibly, and, by my enchantments, overpowered your father Zebenezer, and then, assuming his person, I sent for my Princess, and she came obedient to my call. But, now," continued the false Mahoud, "your cries will profit you but little; for Hapacuson, who is ever hovering over Delhi, to watch the motions of the Sultan Misnar, has by this time placed us in a repository of the dead, where we shall have none to overhear or disturb us."
"Mahoud then showed me my father Zebenezer, whom, by his enchantment, he had deprived of all sensation: he lay in a coffin of black marble, in an inner apartment, and after that he vowed that he would desist from force; but, till I consented to love him, I must be content to live in the tomb.
"He, by his enchantments, obliged me to sleep in the place whence you delivered me, and what time has elapsed during my confinement I know not."
"Princess," said the Sultan, "we rejoice at your escape; but as it is probable, by your account, that your royal sire Zebenezer still sleeps in the tomb, we will pray for his deliverance from the chains of enchantment."
The Sultan then sent officers to search in the tomb for the body of Zebenezer, and also called together those who were skilled in magic, and desired them to use incantations to invoke the genius Macoma to their assistance. But the arts of the magicians were vain, and Macoma remained deaf to the entreaties of the Sultan and his sages.
In the meantime, while the Sultan and his Vizier Horam endeavoured to comfort the afflicted Hemjunah, the ambassadors returned from Cassimir, bringing advice that the grand Vizier Hobaddan had assumed the title of Sultan, and that the whole kingdom of Cassimir acknowledged his authority.
At this report, Hemjunah sank on the earth, and the Sultan Misnar ran to comfort her, declaring that he would march his whole army to recover her dominions from the rebel Hobaddan.
"Horam," said the Sultan, "let us be prudent as well as just: therefore, while you march to the assistance of the injured subjects of Cassimir, and to restore that kingdom to its lawful Prince, I will keep strict discipline and order in the provinces of my empire; and I trust, in a short time, I shall see you return with the head of the rebel Hobaddan."
The Vizier Horam set out in a few days from Delhi with three hundred thousand troops of the flower of the Sultan's army, and by forced marches reached the confines of Cassimir ere the pretended Sultan Hobaddan had notice of his arrival.
The Vizier Horam's intention to restore the Princess Hemjunah to the throne of her ancestors being proclaimed, numbers of the subjects of Cassimir flocked to the standard of Horam; and the army, now increased to five hundred thousand troops, marched forthwith toward the capital of Cassimir.
Hobaddan, having notice of the increase and progress of his enemies, and finding that to engage them upon equal terms was vain, sent an embassy to the Vizier Horam, assuring him that he and his whole army would surrender themselves up to the mercy and clemency of his master's troops. Horam rejoiced at the success of his march; and desirous of regaining the kingdom of Cassimir without bloodshed, sent an assurance to Hobaddan in answer, that, if he fulfilled his promise, his own life should be saved.
The next morning Hobaddan appeared in front of his troops, with their heads dejected and their arms inverted toward the ground; and in this manner they came forward to the Vizier Horam's army.
Horam, to encourage the submission of Hobaddan, had placed the forces, which he had raised in the kingdom of Cassimir, in the van of his army; and also to secure them from retreating, by the support which his own troops were to give them in the rear.
When Hobaddan was within hearing, instead of throwing his arms on the ground, he unsheathed his scimitar, and thus spake to the troops before him:
"Brethren and countrymen, suffer me to speak what my affection to you all, and my love for my country, requires me to say. Against whom, O my brethren, is this array of battle? and whose blood seek ye to spill on the plains which our forefathers have cultivated? Is it our own blood that must be poured forth over these lands to enrich them for a stranger's benefit? Is it not under pretence of fighting for the Princess of Cassimir, who has been long since dead, that the Sultan of India's troops are now ravaging, not on our borders only, but penetrating even into the heart of our nation? But suppose ye that the conquerors will give up the treasures they hope to earn by their blood? Will they not rather, invited by the fruitfulness of our vales, and by the rich produce of our mountains, fix here the standard of their arms, and make slaves of us, who are become thus easily the dupes of their ambitious pretences? Then, farewell content! farewell pleasure! farewell the well-earned fruits of industry and frugality! Our lands shall be the property of others, and we still tied down by slavish chains to cultivate and improve them. Our houses, our substance, shall be the reward of foreign robbers; our wives and our virgins shall bow down before conquerors; and we, like the beasts of the field, shall be drawn in the scorching midday to the furrow or the mine."
As Hobaddan began to utter these words, Horam, astonished at his malice and presumption, ordered the archers who attended him to draw forth their arrows, and pierce him to the heart; but the weapons of war were as straws on the armour of Hobaddan, and he stood dauntless and unhurt amidst ten thousand arrows.
"Friends and brethren!" continued Hobaddan, "you see the powers above are on our side; the arrows of Horam are as chaff on the plain, and as the dust which penetrates not the garments of the traveller. Halt not, therefore, but join your arms to the defender and supporter of your liberties and your possessions."
At these words the recruits of Horam filed off in a body and joined the party of Hobaddan; while the pretended Sultan, elated at his success, pushed forward to the Vizier Horam's troops, and charged them with the utmost impetuosity.
The weapons of the brave were foiled by the armour of Hobaddan; for the enchantress Hapacuson, studious of diverting the attention of the Sultan Misnar, had assisted Hobaddan with her counsel and with invulnerable arms; wherefore, seeing their labour vain and fruitless against the pretended and unconquerable Sultan, the hearts of Horam's warriors melted within them, and they fell away from the field of battle; and Hobaddan, sensible of his advantage, hastened after the troops of Horam all the day and night; and the Vizier himself barely escaped with his life, having none left behind him to send to Delhi with the unhappy report of his defeat.
But malicious Fame, ever indefatigable in representing the horrors of affliction and distress, soon spread her voice throughout the regions of Delhi; and Misnar heard from every quarter, that his faithful Horam and all his chosen troops were defeated or cut off by the victorious arm of Hobaddan. The Princess Hemjunah gave up herself to sighs and tears, and refused the consolation of the Court of Delhi; and the Sultan Misnar, enraged at his loss, resolved to assemble the greatest part of his troops, and march to the assistance of Horam.
But first he gave orders that recruits should be raised, and that the number of his troops should be increased; and then, mixing his young raised soldiers with the veterans of his army, he left one half of his troops to guard his own provinces, and with the other he marched towards the confines of Cassimir.
The Vizier Horam had concealed himself in the hut of a faithful peasant, and hearing that his master had arrived with a numerous army in the kingdom of Cassimir, he went forward to meet him, and, falling down at his feet, besought his forgiveness.
"Horam," said the Sultan, "arise. I forgive thee, although thou hast lost so many of my troops; but I little suspected Hobaddan had been too artful for the experience and sagacity of my Vizier. However, Horam, he must not expect to deceive us again: we are more in number, and we are aware of his deceit. You, Horam, forced your marches and weakened your troops, but I will bring them on slowly and surely. Have we prevailed against Ulin, and Happuck, and Ollomand, and Tasnar—have we crushed Ahaback and Desra by our prudent arts—and shall we fear the contrivance of a poor Vizier, who leads a few rebels among the rocks of the province of Cassimir? Let us but use prudence with resolution, and these enemies must soon fade away like the shadow that flieth from the noontide sun."
The two armies of the Sultan of India and the pretended Sultan of Cassimir approached each other; and the troops of Misnar were pleased to hear that their number was treble the number of their enemies. But, however great their superiority might be, the Sultan Misnar and his Vizier kept the strictest discipline among them, and acted as if they were about to engage a superior force.
For some time the armies continued within sight of each other, neither choosing to engage without some superiority of circumstances, and both watchful to prevent that superiority. At length the Sultan observing a weakness in the left wing of Hobaddan's army, caused by sickness, as they were encamped near a morass, gave orders for a furious attack upon the front, but directed the main effort to be made against that wing.
But the Sultan's intentions were defeated; for Hobaddan, commanding not in the centre, as was expected, but in the left wing (with a chosen troop he had conveyed there the very morning of the engagement), totally defeated those who were sent to oppose him. The troops to the right of the Sultan's army, giving way, put all in confusion; and the unwieldy number of Misnar's forces, instead of regularly supporting them, poured toward the right in such tumult as destroyed the whole disposition of the army.
During this confusion, Hobaddan hewed down on all sides those who dared oppose his arms; and his chosen troop followed him over heaps of the slain, every one flying through fear at his presence.
The Sultan and his Vizier Horam, finding it in vain to rally their troops or oppose the conquerors, sounded a retreat, and, amidst the general confusion, fled toward the sandy deserts which divide the realms of Cassimir from the province of Delhi.
But the prudent Sultan, in his flight, endeavoured to restore to his troops their rank and order; and while Horam reduced the foot under their proper banners, Misnar regulated the confusion of the horse, and placed them as a covering to the rest of his forces.
In this manner they marched before the face of their enemies into the desert, without any provision or forage but what they carried with their accoutrements; and although the Sultan and his Vizier used every argument to persuade their troops (who still exceeded the number of their enemies) to turn and pursue the army of Hobaddan, yet so great was their dread of the victorious rebel and his forces, that they threatened to throw down their arms rather than return to the battle.
Seeing all his endeavours to inspire his men with courage ineffectual, the Sultan travelled onward with them into the desert, as one given up to certain destruction.
After two days' march, they halted beside several small pools; and such was the excessive drought of Misnar's army, that many perished before they could be prevailed upon to quit the refreshing waters of the desert. These, indeed, thought of little more than present relief; but Misnar, their lord, was overwhelmed with the severest pangs of distress.
To increase their grief, scouts brought word that the troops of Hobaddan, being refreshed after their fatigues, were marching towards them, intending to destroy them while they were faint from want of provision. The army of the Sultan, terrified by the report, and seeing no hope of escape, fell upon the wretched Sultan and his faithful Vizier, and bringing them into the centre of the troops, demanded their blood as an atonement for the losses they were about to suffer in their cause.
The ringleader of this general mutiny was Ourodi, the ancient enemy of the faithful Horam, who, standing foremost in the ranks, commanded the archers to bind their Sultan and Vizier to a stake.
The Sultan, seeing all his hopes defeated, and the rage of the multitude, knelt down and commended his cause to the all-powerful Allah.
And now the archers were about to bend their bows and fit the deadly shafts to their bow-strings, when a luminous appearance was discovered to the eastward, and the outskirts of the army saw a female in robes of light travelling over the sands of the desert. In a moment she passed through the ranks of the army, and stood in the circle who were gathered around to see the execution of the Sultan and his Vizier.
"Misnar," said she, "arise, and fear not those sons of clay, nor the malice of enchantment: I am the genius Macoma, sent by Mahomet to save and deliver thee when human assistance was vain and impossible. Therefore assume thy just command over these thy subjects, and let them all fall prostrate on the ground to Allah, and wait to see the fate of those who fight against the Prophet of the Faithful. But first learn, from thine own experience, the folly of trusting even to the greatest human power or prudence, without an affiance in the Lord of Heaven. The world, O Misnar, is Allah's, and the kingdom of heaven is the work of His hands; let not, therefore, the proudest boast, nor the most humble despair; for, although the towering mountains appear most glorious to the sight, the lowly valleys enjoy the fatness of the skies. But Allah is able to clothe the summit of the rocks with verdure, and dry up even the rivers of the vale. Wherefore, although thou wert suffered to destroy the greatest part of thine enemies, yet one was left to overpower thee, that thou mightest know that thou wert but a weak instrument in the hands of strength."
"I know," answered the Sultan Misnar, "that Allah is able to dissolve this frame of earth, and every vision of the eye; and therefore not the proudest nor the most powerful can stand against Him."
As the Sultan spake thus; the army of Hobaddan appeared on the face of the sandy desert.
"Although His power be infinite," said the genius, "yet can He effect these changes by the most unexpected means. But I will not waste that time in words which I am commanded to employ in action, to convince both you and your army of the sovereignty of Allah. Therefore suffer no man to rise from the earth or to quit his place; but lift up your heads only, and behold those enemies destroyed before whom you fled."
So saying, the genius Macoma waved her wand, and instantly the air was darkened, and a confused noise was heard above the armies of Misnar and Hobaddan.
For some hours the Sultan's troops knew not the cause of the darkness that overshadowed them; but in a little time the light returned by degrees, and they looked toward the army of Hobaddan, and saw them overwhelmed with innumerable locusts.
"Thine enemies," said Macoma, "O Sultan, are no more, save the enchantress Hapacuson, who personates the rebel Ourodi."
"The glory of extirpating her infernal race," said the Vizier Horam, bowing before the genius Macoma, "belongs to my Sultan; otherwise Horam would esteem himself the happiest of mankind in her destruction."
"The glory you speak of," answered the genius Macoma, "is given to another: a fly has gone forth, the winged messenger of Allah's wrath, and at this moment bereaves the vile Hapacuson of her breath and of her life."
The Vizier Horam held down his head at the just reproof of the genius; but the words of her reproof were the words of truth; for an account was brought that the rebel Ourodi was suddenly dead, being strangled by some impediment in his throat, and that, at his death, his figure was changed into the appearance of a deformed enchantress.
"Although your enemies, O Misnar, are no more," said the genius, "yet the assistance of Allah is as necessary for your support as for their defeat; wherefore He hath given life to the springs of the pools of the desert, and your troops will find such refreshment from them, that you may safely march over the sandy plains; and, to add to your happiness, the old Sultan Zebenezer, being released from the enchantments of Hapacuson, waits, with his daughter Hemjunah, your safe arrival, and knows not as yet those wonders which I leave your prudence to reveal to him."
The Sultan Misnar well understood the mysterious speech of the genius Macoma; but before he or his troops tasted of the pools or pursued their march, he commanded them to fall down before Allah, the only Lord of the world.
The soldiers, having done reverence to Allah, were desirous of repeating it before Misnar, to ask his forgiveness; but the Sultan would not permit them. "Let us make," said he, "Allah and His Prophet our guide and defence, and then neither presumption nor rebellion shall lead us into error."
The unexpected change reached not the Court of Delhi till the troops were within a few day's march of the city; and Zebenezer and Hemjunah were but just prepared to meet the Sultan Misnar when he entered the gates of the palace.
As Misnar advanced toward the aged Zebenezer, the good old man started with surprise, and cried out, "Oh! is it possible that the Sultan of India and the Prince of Georgia should be one and the same?"
The Princess Hemjunah was confounded at her father's speech, and she fell on his bosom and hid her face.
"What you suspect, my royal friend," said Misnar, "is true: I am indeed the man who once passed in Cassimir for the Prince of Georgia. I beseech thee, O Zebenezer, forgive my deception."
"You have no forgiveness," said the aged Zebenezer, "O Sultan, to ask from me."
"Indeed," answered the Sultan, "my title was just: my royal father, Dabulcombar, being treacherously advised by those who wished to place his younger son Ahubal on the throne, commanded me to travel, and gain renown and experience in arms; and, to conceal my importance, gave me the title of Prince of Georgia. In this disguise I came to the royal Court of Cassimir, and engaged in your service, O venerable Sultan, and Allah sent His blessing on us: your enemies were put to flight, and your subjects, who favoured me, gave the credit of the defeat to my arms.
"Hearing that you intended me the honour of an alliance with your illustrious family, I resolved first to see the Princess Hemjunah, whom I heard you had confined, being warned, from an ancient prophecy, that a stranger should deprive you of her. I saw the Princess by means of one of her slaves, and Hemjunah from that moment took possession of my heart. I was earnest, therefore, with you to propose the nuptials, and was to have been introduced to the Princess, when I received advice that my father was drawing near his end. In expectation of demanding your daughter as the Sultan of India, and not as an obscure Prince, I journeyed to Delhi, and arrived time enough to see my royal sire ere he departed.
"'Son,' said he, 'evil threatens your reign: extricate, therefore, yourself from danger, and do not involve others in your ruin.'
"Mindful of my father's words, I resolved to quell the commotions of the empire before I made myself known to the Sultan of Cassimir; but Allah has so wound the string of our fates together, that it is needless to repeat the rest of my adventures. Only the Princess must forgive me this, that, hearing she had been taken away from her father's Court, I was resolved to conceal my interest in her affairs till I was sensible that the Prince of Georgia, though not blessed with her smiles, had yet no rival in her affections."
"Most noble Sultan," said the Princess Hemjunah, "it is vain to dissemble: suffer me, therefore, freely to declare that the Sultan of India has totally extirpated the Prince of Georgia from my heart; but, whatever my own sentiments may be, assure yourself that I shall not, at my father's commands, refuse the Prince of Georgia my hand."
The Sultan of India and Zebenezer were both delighted with the Princess Hemjunah's answer; and the faithful Vizier Horam rejoiced to find that his master and the Princess Hemjunah were to be united. The whole Court expected the nuptials with impatience; and the good old Sultan Zebenezer stayed to see his daughter the Sultaness of India, and Misnar the happiest and the most thankful of the children of Allah.
"The children of Allah," said the sage Horam, "have indeed a freedom of action; but that freedom is best exercised when it leads them to trust and depend on the Lord of all things: not that He who seeth even beyond the confines of light is pleased with idleness, or giveth encouragement to the sons of sloth; the spirit which He has infused into mankind He expects to find active and industrious; and, when prudence is joined with religion, Allah either gives success to its dictates, or, by counteracting its motions, draws forth the brighter virtues of patience and resignation. Learn, therefore, ye pupils of the race of immortals, not to forget your dependence on Allah while ye follow the prudent maxims of wisdom and experience; for he only is truly prudent who adds faith to his practice, and he truly religious whose actions are the result of his faith."
Sadik Beg.
adik Beg was of good family, handsome in person, and possessed of both sense and courage; but he was poor, having no property but his sword and his horse, with which he served as a gentleman retainer of a Pasha. The latter, satisfied with the purity of Sadik's descent, and entertaining a respect for his character, determined to make him the husband of his daughter Hooseinee, who, though beautiful as her name implied, was remarkable for her haughty manner and ungovernable temper.
Giving a husband of the condition of Sadik Beg to a lady of Hooseinee's rank was, according to usage in such unequal matches, like giving her a slave; and as she heard a good report of his personal qualities, she offered no objections to the marriage, which was celebrated soon after it was proposed, and apartments were assigned to the happy couple in the Pasha's palace.
Some of Sadik Beg's friends rejoiced in his good fortune, as they saw, in the connection he had formed, a sure prospect of his advancement. Others mourned the fate of so fine and promising a young man, now condemned to bear through life all the humours of a proud and capricious woman; but one of his friends, a little man called Merdek, who was completely henpecked, was particularly rejoiced, and quite chuckled at the thought of seeing another in the same condition with himself.
About a month after the nuptials, Merdek met his friend, and, with malicious pleasure, wished him joy of his marriage.
"Most sincerely do I congratulate you, Sadik," said he, "on this happy event."
"Thank you, my good fellow, I am very happy indeed, and rendered more so by the joy I perceive it gives my friends."
"Do you really mean to say you are happy?" said Merdek, with a smile.
"I really am so," replied Sadik.
"Nonsense!" said his friend; "do we not all know to what a termagant you are united? and her temper and high rank combined must no doubt make her a sweet companion." Here he burst into a loud laugh, and the little man actually strutted with a feeling of superiority over the bridegroom.
Sadik, who knew his situation and feelings, was amused instead of being angry. "My friend," said he, "I quite understand the grounds of your apprehension for my happiness. Before I was married, I had heard the same reports as you have done of my beloved bride's disposition; but I am happy to say, I have found it quite otherwise: she is a most docile and obedient wife."
"But how has this miraculous change been wrought?"
"Why," said Sadik, "I believe I have some merit in effecting it; but you shall hear. After the ceremonies of our nuptials were over, I went in my military dress, and with my sword by my side, to the apartment of Hooseinee. She was sitting in a most dignified posture to receive me, and her looks were anything but inviting. As I entered the room, a beautiful cat, evidently a great favourite, came purring up to me. I deliberately drew my sword, struck its head off, and taking that in one hand and the body in the other, threw them out of the window. I then very unconcernedly turned to the lady, who appeared in some alarm; she, however, made no observations, but was in every way kind and submissive, and has continued so ever since."
"Thank you, my dear fellow," said little Merdek, with a significant shake of the head: "a word to the wise." And away he capered, obviously quite rejoiced.
It was near evening when this conversation took place; soon after, when the dark cloak of night had enveloped the bright radiance of day, Merdek entered the chamber of his spouse, with something of a martial swagger, armed with a scimitar. The unsuspecting cat came forward as usual, to welcome the husband of her mistress, but in an instant her head was divided from her body by a blow from the hand which had so often caressed her. Merdek, having proceeded so far courageously, stooped to take up the dissevered members of the cat, but before he could effect this, a blow upon the side of the head, from his incensed lady, laid him sprawling on the floor.
The tattle and scandal of the day spreads from zenaneh to zenaneh with surprising rapidity, and the wife of Merdek saw in a moment whose example it was that he had imitated.
"Take that!" said she, as she gave him another cuff, "take that, you paltry wretch! You should," she added, laughing him to scorn, "have killed the cat on the wedding day."
