Thus the tenets of the Persian sage and those of the Jesuits are similar. To do evil is lawful, if a greater good be the result. I fear the evil is often done without the expected good resulting.
A visit to the tomb of Saadi, or that of Hafiz, is common among the Shirazis for the taking of omens or “fal,” as they are termed. For a few coppers the dervish who usually acts as guardian to the tomb produces his well-thumbed manuscript copy of the poet, and, after an invocation to the Deity, he thrusts his knife into the closed volume between the leaves. Taking the passage at the top of the right-hand page, he recites it to the anxious inquirers, and, if they be ignorant people, he generally manages to recite a passage favourable to their wishes. Nothing serious is done in Persia without the taking an omen, “fal,” the casting of lots, “istikhara,” or the decree of an astrologer. It was a common thing for a patient to tell me that the reason he consulted me was, that he had put all the names of the doctors of the town in a bag, and mine had been drawn. I also was commonly told that a man had refused his physic because the omen was against it. They will close a bargain or not by an omen, start on a journey or refrain from the same reason; and their action in such little doubtful points as the staking in games is ruled in the same manner. A common way to take an omen (in this case “istikhara,” for “fal” is generally confined to the omen by the book, be it Hafiz, Saadi, or the Koran) is to grasp the rosary haphazard (every Persian man or woman carries a rosary) and count from the bead grasped till the end is reached—good—doubtful—no; the last bead reached being the decisive one.
On a taking the “fal” at the tomb of Hafiz by Captain T⸺, R.E., who was a gold medalist in Persian, a curious incident occurred. The old dervish, taking the book of poems between his palms, muttered the usual invocation to God, and opening the book proceeded to recite some stanzas highly favourable to Captain T⸺’s proceeding on his journey. But T⸺, taking the book from his hand, and looking only at the first line, closed the volume and recited from memory that line and some fifty that followed it. The dervish certainly was nonplussed. Here was a Feringhi, who could not make himself understood by even the servants (so different is the Persian of books and that learnt in India from the colloquial), reciting correctly, and with appropriate gesture, the poetry that he, the dervish, prided himself on being familiar with. His eyes rolled, he looked with astonishment on the gifted European, put his spectacles in his pocket, bowed, and disappeared, not even waiting for the present that he knew he could be sure of. We were naturally much surprised, but we were cognisant of Captain T⸺’s being well versed in the Persian classics; for did he not address my servant as “cupbearer,” “sorki”? and did he not request, to the man’s astonishment, when requiring beer, that he should bring “the soul-inspiring bowl”?—which phrases, being poetical, were quite as Dutch to the servant as if a London waiter were ordered to “fill high the bowl with Samian wine.”
Saadi, though more influencing the actions of the people, is less read by the upper classes than Hafiz, to whom are paid almost divine honours; and the humble tomb of the one, in its little unkept garden, is little visited, while the handsome stone over the grave of the other has generally a few reverent idlers round it.
CHAPTER XXVI.
SHIRAZ—PERSIAN CUSTOMS.
The Tazzia—Persian pulpit—Prince’s flirtations—Month of mourning—Details of performance—Breast-beaters—Hymn in honour of the king—The performers—Processions—Detail of the tragedy—Interludes—Rosehkhaneh—The Ramazan—The Fast—Hospitalities—Zalābi—Religious affectation—Reading poetry—A paraphrase—A quotation—Books and their covers—Calamdans—Writing a letter—Sealing—Specimen of an ordinary letter—Apparent piety—The evil eye—Talismans—I procure one.
While in Shiraz I made my first acquaintance with the Tazzias, or religious representations, given by the grandees of the town, of the various histories from the Koran leading up to the climax, the tragedy of the saints Houssein and Hassan[28] and their wives and children.
Almost all of the wealthy did some public act or other in the Mohurrim, the month of mourning for the martyred saints. The tazzia, or dramatic representation, was given by the Zil-es-Sultan, the Governor, in the garden of his palace, on a very large scale indeed, and in a smaller way by the Muschir and the Kawam and others.
To the prince’s tazzia I went by his invitation each day, and the young prince took great interest in the getting-up of the various scenes in the story.