The question was then taken up by the dervishes and fakirs of the country in a religious point of view; they split into two parties, tried the question by a dispute under a banyan tree, which lasted eighteen months, and still not half of the holy men had given their sentiments upon the question; tired of talking, they proceeded to blows, and then to anathematisation and excommunication of each other; lastly, they had recourse to impalement to convince each other; more than a thousand perished on each side; and still the beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu remained unmarried.
The colleges and schools of the kingdom took up the question, and argued it metaphysically, and after having irrecoverably lost, between the two sides, twenty-two millions of threads of arguments, the question was as fresh as ever, and the beautiful princess Babe-bi-bobu remained unmarried.
But this was not all; for at last the whole nation joined in the quarrel, splitting into violent and angry factions, which divided town against town, inhabitants against inhabitants, house against house, family against family, husband against wife, father against son, brother against sister; and in some cases, where he had doubts on both sides, a man against himself. The whole nation flew to arms, distinguishing themselves as Molists and Anti-molists; four hundred insurrections, and four civil wars, were the consequence; and what was a worse consequence, the beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu remained unmarried. Your sublime highness must allow that it was a very nice question—
“What is your opinion, Mustapha?” demanded the pacha.
“Is your slave to speak? Then I would say, that it was absurd to make such a mountain of a mole-hill.”
“Very true, Mustapha. This princess will never be married; so proceed, good Menouni.”
I should observe to your sublime highness, that the Molists were the strongest party, and the most arrogant; not content with wearing the marks of nature, they stuck upon their faces fictitious moles of every hue and colour, and the most violent partisans appeared as if they were suffering from some cutaneous disorder. It was also a singular circumstance, that no Molist was ever known to change sides, whereas, after bathing, many of the Anti-molists were found most shamefully to apostatise. Every thing was disastrous, and the country in a state of anarchy and confusion, when the question was most fortunately settled by the remark of a little slave about twelve years old, who was regularly flogged by his master every morning that he got up, upon a suspicion of Molism, and as regularly every evening by his mistress, on a second suspicion of Anti-molism. This poor little fellow whispered to another boy, that moles were blemishes or not, just as people happened to think them, but, as for his part, he thought nothing about the matter. The espionage at that time was so strict, that even a whisper was to be heard at the distance of miles, and this observation was reported; it certainly was new because it was neutral, when neutrality was not permitted or thought of; it was buzzed about; the remark was declared wonderful, it ran like wildfire through the suburbs, it roared through the city, it shook the very gates of the palace; at last it reached the holy in divan, who pronounced it to be inspiration from the Deity, and immediately there was issued a solemn edict, in which it was laid down as a most positive and important article of Souffrarian faith, that moles were not scars, and only blemishes when they were considered so to be. Every one praised the wisdom of this edict; it was read and subscribed to as an article of faith; towns greeted towns, house congratulated house, and relations shook hands; what was still stranger was, husbands and wives were reconciled—and what was even more delightful, there was now some chance of the beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu no longer remaining unmarried.
This fortunate edict, by which it was clear that those who believed a mole to be a blemish were quite safe, and who did not believe it, were in no manner of danger, set every thing to rights; the metropolis was again filled with aspirants, the air tortured with the music of the mandolins, and impregnated with the attar of roses. Who can attempt to describe the sumptuousness of the palace, and the splendour of the ball in which the beautiful princess sat, to receive the homage of the flower of the youth of her kingdom. Soothingly soft, sweetly, lovingly soft, were the dulcet notes of the warbling asparas, or singing girls, now ebbing, now flowing in tender gushes of melody, while down the sides of the elegant and highly pillared hall, now advancing, now retreating, the dancing girls, each beautiful as Artee herself in her splendour, seemed almost to demand, in their aggregate, that gaze of homage due only to the peerless individual who at once burned and languished on her emerald throne. Three days had the princess sat in that hall of delight, tired and annoyed with the constant stream of the Souffra youths, who prostrated themselves and passed on. The fourth morning dawned, and none could say that either by gesture, sigh, or look, they had been distinguished by even a shadow of preference. And the noble youths communed in their despair, and murmured among themselves; many a foot was stamped with unbecoming impatience, and many a moustache twisted with a pretty indignation. The inhabitants of the capital blamed the impetuosity of the youths; to say the least of it, if it were not disloyal, it was ungallant; and what was worse, they showed no regard for the welfare of the citizens, over whom they each aspired to reign as sovereign, for they must be aware that now was the time that the citizens, from such an influx of aspirants, were reaping a golden harvest. And they added, with great truth, that a princess who had been compelled to wait six years to satisfy the doubts of others, had a most undeniable right to wait as many days to satisfy her own. On the fourth day, the beautiful Babe-bi-bobu again took her seat on the golden cushions, with her legs crossed, and her little feet hidden under the folds of her loose, azure-coloured satin trousers, and it was supposed that there was more brightness in her eyes, and more animation in her countenance than on the previous days; but still the crowd passed on unnoticed. Even the learned brahmins, who stood immovable in rows on each side of her throne, became impatient: they talked about the fickleness of the sex, the impossibility of inducing them to make up their minds; they whispered wise saws and sayings from Ferdistan and others, about the caprice of women, and the instability of their natures, and the more their legs ached from such perpetual demand upon their support, the more bitter did they become in their remarks. Poor, prosing old fools! the beauteous princess had long made up her mind, and had never swerved from it through the tedious six years during which the doubts and discussions of those venerable old numskulls had embroiled the whole nation in the Molean and Anti-molean controversy.