XV.
SHIRAZ.
The sight of Shiraz, standing in the midst of groves of thickly planted cypress trees, is quite a relief for the eye, wearied with the monotonous look-out upon the barren desert and bare rocks. The natives say that looking at the enchanting capital of Southern Persia from the spot whence I first saw it, the stranger in his admiration involuntarily bursts out into the customary "Allah Ekber" (God is greatest), and that the place owes its appellation to this exclamation. The eye, wandering over the extensive valley, meets everywhere, as far as it can reach, the exquisite dark green of the cypress. The city is fringed by a garland of cypress gardens, through which a wide brook meanders like a silvery ribbon. Proud edifices rear their heads both inside and outside the walls of the city, the brilliant cupola of the Shah Tchirag mosque looming up most conspicuously. Beyond and opposite to it the far-stretching plain is bordered by a lofty chain of mountains stretching through Kazerun as far as the shores of the Gulf of Persia. Thus the valley is screened by natural walls of rock both to the north and south, and Shiraz stands foremost amongst all the cities of Persia in the matter of climate, fertility and purity of air.
FERTILITY OF SHIRAZ.Shiraz owes its fertility especially to its great abundance of water. Its vegetation is so luxuriant that roses and other flowers are blooming throughout the whole year, the plants renewing their sweet-smelling crops every month. The fields are covered with a green sward, and whilst in other parts of Persia the favourite mutton can be got but twice in the year, it can be obtained here throughout all seasons. But what challenges most the admiration of the Western traveller is the exquisitely pure air, the beauty of its blue sky, excelling in these all other parts of Persia, the whole of Asia and, I may add, every country in the world. The air in Shiraz, in spite of its southern position, is bracing enough, and I do not at all wonder that the people, under the influence of their benign climate, are fond of pleasure, and pass their lives in continual amusements and everlasting merry-making. They have a proverb which says:
"In Isfahan many scholars and artists may be,
But dancers, singers and drinkers only in Shiraz you see."
And, indeed, I do not know of a town in Persia, the inhabitants of which are as merry and jovial as those of Shiraz. Centuries have passed by since Hafiz, the glorifier of wine, sung his odes here, but a sojourn of a very few days in the capital of Fars will convince any one that the people of Shiraz have not modified a hair's breadth their views of life since the time of Hafiz. Everybody indulges freely in wine in spite of the rigid inhibition of the Mohammedan law. The poor journeyman, the mechanic, the official, and even the priests, begin their libations as soon as the dusk of evening sets in, and keep up their merry-making until midnight, and even later.
As I had now reached the end of my immediate journey, and intended to make a protracted stay, I took lodgings at the large court of the mosque. I sold my animal, and although the funds I had brought with me were considerably reduced, my future gave me little concern, considering, especially, the abundance and cheapness of food. True to my part of a dervish, I wandered through the streets of the city, on the first day of my arrival, and made the acquaintance of a great many people. Of course, my acquaintances, being zealous Shi-ites, never neglected an opportunity in my presence of cruelly vilifying Omar and his associates; but seeing that I bore their vituperations of my saints very meekly, they were highly pleased with me, and I made so many friends during the first weeks of my stay that they rendered my life very agreeable.
One day, I happened to learn that a European, a native of Sweden, was living in the city and practising as a physician. A LINGUIST'S JOKE.My love of adventure immediately suggested to me the propriety of paying him a visit; but I determined, as a matter of precaution, to keep up my incognito and to appear before him as a dervish. When I entered his room with the dervish's salutation of "Ya hu! Ya hakk!" the good doctor immediately put his hand in his pocket, in order to get rid of me by a gift of a few coins, the usual way of dismissing a dervish.
"What, dost thou give me money?" I exclaimed. "I come to seek thy confidence, not thy money. I come from a far-off country. I am sent to thee by my chief, to convert thee from the false religion that thou followest and to lead thee to the path of the true faith. I am charged by the Sheikh of Bagdad to make a Mussulman of thee."
The doctor to whom such attempts at proselytizing were by no means new, replied with a suppressed smile: