The orthodox Shaikh spoke with more toleration than I expected of the Soofees, who, from the wild and visionary doctrines which they profess, are in general held up by the Mahomedan priests as objects of execration. "There were," he observed, "many good and most exemplary men included in this sect, merely because they were enthusiasts in religion. Besides," said the Shaikh, "both our poets, Hâfiz and Sâdee, but particularly the former, were Soofees; and what native of Shiraz can pass a harsh sentence upon them? We must," he continued, "lament the errors of Soofees in consideration of their virtues; and even in their wildest wanderings they convey the most important lessons—for instance, how simply and beautifully has Abd-ool-Kâdir of Ghilan impressed us with the love of truth in a story of his childhood."[41]
After stating the vision which made him entreat of his mother to allow him to go to Bagdad and devote himself to God, he thus proceeds. "I informed her of what I had seen, and she wept: then taking out eighty dinars, she told me that as I had a brother, half of that was all my inheritance; she made me swear, when she gave it me, never to tell a lie, and afterwards bade me farewell, exclaiming, 'Go, my son, I consign thee to God; we shall not meet again till the day of judgment.' I went on well," he adds, "till I came near to Hamadân, when our kâfillah was plundered by sixty horsemen: one fellow asked me, 'what I had got?' 'Forty dinars,' said I, 'are sewed under my garments.' The fellow laughed, thinking, no doubt, I was joking with him. 'What have you got?' said another; I gave him the same answer. When they were dividing the spoil, I was called to an eminence where the chief stood: 'What property have you got my little fellow?' said he. 'I have told two of your people already,' I replied, 'I have forty dinars sewed up carefully in my clothes!' He ordered them to be ript open, and found my money.—'And how came you,' said he, with surprise, 'to declare so openly, what has been so carefully hidden?' 'Because,' I replied, 'I will not be false to my mother, to whom I have promised that I will never tell a lie,' 'Child,' said the robber, 'hast thou such a sense of thy duty to thy mother at thy years, and am I insensible, at my age, of the duty I owe to my God? Give me thy hand, innocent boy,' he continued, 'that I may swear repentance upon it.' He did so—his followers were all alike struck with the scene. 'You have been our leader in guilt,' said they to their chief, 'be the same in the path of virtue;' and they instantly, at his order, made restitution of their spoil, and vowed repentance on my hand."
The Elchee, before this party separated, endeavoured to persuade the high priest to allow him the pleasure of a more frequent intercourse; but his kind invitations were declined in a manner and for reasons which satisfied me I had at least met with one good Persian.
While at Shiraz, we were entertained by the prince, his ministers, and some of the principal inhabitants. A breakfast was given to the Elchee, at a beautiful spot near the Hazâr Bâgh, or thousand gardens, in the vicinity of Shiraz; and we were surprised and delighted to find that we were to enjoy this meal on a stack of roses. On this a carpet was laid, and we sat cross-legged like the natives. The stack, which was as large as a common one of hay in England, had been formed without much trouble from the heaps or cocks of rose-leaves, collected before they were sent into the city to be distilled. We were told our party was the first to which such a compliment had been paid. Whether this was the case or not, our mount of roses, added to the fine climate, verdant gardens, and clear rills, gave a character of singular luxuriance to this rural banquet.
We were at several evening parties. The dinner given by the minister, Mahomed Nebbee Khan, was the most magnificent. He has been in India; and some English usages, to please and accommodate us, were grafted on the Persian. We went at five o'clock in the evening, and were received in his state hall. In the court-yard, in front of the room in which we sat, were assembled rope-dancers, wrestlers, musicians, lions, bears, and monkeys, all of which exhibited their different feats till sunset; when, after being regaled with coffee, kelliâns, and sweetmeats, we were conducted to another apartment, where we found a dessert of fruit very elegantly laid out in the English style. After sitting in this room for about an hour, we returned to the state hall, which we had no sooner entered than the fireworks commenced; and though the space where they were exhibited was very confined, they were the best I ever saw. The rockets were let off from a frame which kept them together, and produced a beautiful effect. There was another sort called zembooreh, or swivels, which made a report like a twelve pounder, and added great spirit and effect to this exhibition. After it was over we had a most sumptuous repast of fine pelaws, &c., and iced sherbets.
The day before we left Shiraz, Derveesh Seffer, my old acquaintance, paid the Elchee a visit. This remarkable man, who has charge of the shrines[42] (including those of Sâdee and Hâfiz) near Shiraz, is esteemed one of the best reciters of poetry and tellers of tales in Persia; and there is no country in the world where more value is placed upon such talents; he who possesses them in an eminent degree is as certain of fortune and fame as the first actors in Europe. Derveesh Seffer, who is honoured by the royal favour, has a very melodious voice, over which he has such power as to be able to imitate every sound, from that of the softest feminine to the harshest masculine voice. The varied expression of his countenance is quite as astonishing as his voice, and his action is remarkably graceful, and always suited to his subject. His memory is not only furnished with an infinite variety of stories, but with all the poetry of his country; this enables him to give interest and effect to the most meagre tale, by apt quotations from the first authors of Persia. Those told by persons like him usually blend religious feeling with entertainment, and are meant to recommend charity; but I cannot better conclude this account of my friend the Derveesh than by giving a tale which he recited to the Envoy, with a view no doubt of impressing him with a belief that worldly success might be promoted by munificence, in any shape, to shrines like those of which he had charge.
The Derveesh having seated himself in a proper position, commenced with a fine passage from the poet Nizâmee in praise of those who, possessing the talent of recitation, give currency and effect to the noble thoughts of departed genius. After a short pause he began his tale.
"In a sequestered vale of the fruitful province of Khorassan there lived a peasant called Abdûlla. He had married a person in his own rank of life, who, though very plain in her appearance, had received from her fond father the fine name of Zeebâ, or the beautiful; to which act of parental folly the good woman owed the few seeds of vanity that mixed in her homely character. It was this feeling that led her to name her two children Yûsuph and Fatima, conceiving, no doubt, that the fortunate name of the son of Yâcoob, the vizier of Far'oun, and fascinator of Zuleikhâ,[43] would aid the boy in his progress through life; while there could be no doubt of her little girl receiving equal advantages from being named after the daughter of the Prophet, and the wife of the renowned Ali.