CHAPTER LII.
THE GREEK PAGE—SONG OF THE GREEK PAGE—A REVELATION.
Three months had now elapsed since Ibrahim-Pasha had risen to the exalted rank of grand vizier, and had married the sister of Solyman the Magnificent. The sultan daily became more attached to him; and he, on his part, acquired influence over his imperial master. Vested with a power so nearly absolute that Solyman signed without ever perusing the hatti-sheriffs, or decrees, drawn up by Ibrahim,—and enjoying the confidence of the divan, all the members of which were devoted to his interests,—the renegade administered according to his own discretion, the affairs of that mighty empire. Avaricious, and ever intent upon the aggrandizement of his own fortunes, he accumulated vast treasures; but he also maintained a household and lived in a style unequaled by any of his predecessors in office. Having married a sister of the sultan, he was not permitted a plurality of wives;—but he purchased the most beauteous slaves for his harem, and plunged headlong into a vortex of dissipation and pleasure.
For some weeks he had manifested the most ardent and impassioned attachment toward Aischa, who, during that period, was happy in the belief that she alone possessed his heart. But the customs of the East, as well as the duties of his office, kept them so much apart, that he had no leisure to discover the graces of her mind, nor to appreciate all the powers of her naturally fine, and indeed well-cultivated intellect; so that the beauty of her person constituted the only basis on which his affection was maintained. The fervor of such a love soon cooled with satiety: and those female slaves whom he had at first procured as indispensable appendages to his rank and station, were not long in becoming the sources of new pleasure and voluptuous enjoyment. Aischa beheld his increasing indifference, and strove to bind him to her by representing all she had done for him. He listened coldly at first; but when, on several occasions, the same remonstrances were repeated, he answered angrily.
“Had it not been for my influence,” she said to him one day, when the dispute had become more serious than preceding quarrels of the kind, “you might still have been an humble secretary to a Christian noble.”
“Not so,” replied the grand vizier; “for at the very time when I first beheld thee in the Bezestein, certain offers had been secretly conveyed to me from the reis-effendi.”
“In whose service you would have lingered as a mere subordinate for long, long years,” returned Aischa. “It was I who urged you on. Have I not often assured you that your image dwelt in my memory after the accident which first led to our meeting—that one of my faithful women noticed my thoughtful mood—and that when I confessed to her the truth, she stated to me that, by a singular coincidence, her own brother was employed by the reis-effendi as an agent to tempt you with the offers to which you have alluded? Then, inquiries which my slave instituted, brought to my ears the flattering tidings that you also thought of me, and I resolved to grant you an interview. From that moment my influence hurried you on to power—and when you became the favorite of the mighty Solyman, I confessed to him that I had seen and that I loved you. His fraternal attachment to me is great—greater than to any other of his sisters, seeing that himself and I were born of the same mother, though at a long interval. Thus was it that my persuasion made him think higher and oftener of you than he would else have done—and now that you have attained the summit of glory and power, she who has helped to raise you is neglected and loved no longer.”
“Cease these reproaches, Aischa,” exclaimed Ibrahim, who had listened impatiently to her long address, “or I will give thee less of my company than heretofore. See that the next time I visit thee my reception may be with smiles instead of tears—with sweet words instead of reproaches.” And in this cruel manner the heartless renegade quitted his beauteous wife, leaving her plunged in the most profound affliction.
But as Ibrahim traversed the corridors leading to his own apartments, his heart smote him for the harshness and unfeeling nature of his conduct; and as one disagreeable idea, by disposing the spirits to melancholy, usually arouses others that were previously slumbering in the cells of the brain, all the turpitude of his apostasy was recalled with new force to his mind.
Repairing to a small but magnificently furnished saloon in a retired part of the palace, he dismissed the slaves who were waiting at the door, ordering them, however, to send into his presence a young Greek page who had recently entered his service. In a few minutes the youth made his appearance, and stood in a respectful attitude near the door.
“Come and sit at my feet, Constantine,” said the grand vizier, “and thou shalt sing to me one of those airs of thy native Greece with which thou hast occasionally delighted mine ears. I know not how it is, boy—but thy presence pleases me, and thy voice soothes my soul, when oppressed with the cares of my high office.”