"Well," said I, when the Hajee had finished, "I am glad I have heard this story, for it proves your Abbas was, with all his fine qualities, a capricious and cruel tyrant." "No doubt he was," said my friend, "like other men in his condition, spoilt by the exercise of despotic power. He had violent bursts of passion, but these were not frequent; and then he used to be very sorry for what he did when in one of his paroxysms; and what more could be expected from a Shâhin-shâh, or king of kings? There," said he, as we entered Nethenz,—"There is an instance of the truth of what I say; you see that little dome on the summit of the hill which overhangs the town. It is called Goom-bez-e-Bâz, or the dome of the hawk. It happened one day that this monarch, fatigued with hunting, had sat down on the top of that hill with a favourite hawk on his hand; he called for some water, and a cup was brought from a neighbouring spring; the hawk dashed the cup from the king's hand as he was about to drink; another was sent for, but the bird managed to spill it likewise; a third and a fourth shared the same fate. The monarch, in a rage, killed the hawk. Before he had time to take another cup, one of his attendants noticed that the water was discoloured. This gave rise to suspicions; and the spring was found to have been poisoned with the venom of a snake or some plant. Shâh Abbas, inconsolable at his rashness in destroying the bird which had saved his life, built this dome to its memory, and is said to have often visited it."
After hearing this story, I was obliged, lest I should have more anecdotes of this mighty monarch, to confess that, though not a character exactly suited to my notions, there must be some merit in a human being who, in spite of his ordering a man to be slain because he had an ugly face that frightened a horse, and killing a hawk for spilling a cup of water, had contrived to raise his country to such a pitch of prosperity, that he was beloved, as well as feared, when alive, and spoken of for centuries after his decease as the author of all improvements.
The caliph Hâroon-oor-Rasheed occupies the same place in the stories of the Arabians which Shâh Abbas does among the Persians; but the "Arabian Nights" have made the English reader familiar with the celebrated Commander of the Faithful, which no similar work has done for the sovereign of Persia. The fame of the latter, even in his native country, has not excluded Hâroon, whom I have always found in works on the wisdom, moderation, and justice of monarchs, to occupy a very prominent place in Persian literature.
Aga Meer brought me one day a small tract, containing an account of a visit of Hâroon to the tomb of Noosheerwân, which was, he said, from the lessons it conveyed, given to the youth of Persia to study. I perused it with pleasure; and shall give a translation of a part of its contents, as a specimen both of the moral maxims of this country and the mode in which a knowledge of them is imparted.
"The caliph Hâroon-oor-Rasheed," says the author, "went to visit the tomb of the celebrated Noosheerwân, the most famous of all the monarchs who ever governed Persia. Before the tomb was a curtain of gold cloth, which, when Hâroon touched it, fell to pieces. The walls of the tomb were covered with gold and jewels, whose splendour illumined its darkness. The body was placed in a sitting posture on a throne enchased with jewels, and had so much the appearance of life, that, on the first impulse, the Commander of the Faithful bent to the ground, and saluted the remains of the just Noosheerwân.
"Though the face of the departed monarch was like that of a living man, and the whole of the body in a state of preservation, which showed the admirable skill of those who embalmed it; yet when the caliph touched the garments they mouldered into dust. Hâroon upon this took his own rich robes and threw them over the corpse: he also hung up a new curtain richer than that he had destroyed, and perfumed the whole tomb with camphor, and other sweet scents.
"It was remarked that no change was perceptible in the body of Noosheerwân, except that the ears had become white. The whole scene affected the caliph greatly; he burst into tears, and repeated from the Koran—'What I have seen is a warning to those who have eyes.' He observed some writing upon the throne, which he ordered the Moobids,[85] who were learned in the Pehlevee language, to read and explain. They did so: it was as follows:
'This world remains not; the man who thinks least of it is the wisest.
'Enjoy this world before thou becomest its prey.
'Bestow the same favour on those below thee, as thou desirest to receive from those above thee.
'If thou shouldst conquer the whole world, death will at last conquer thee.
'Be careful that thou are not the dupe of thine own fortune.
'Thou shalt be paid exactly for what thou hast done; no more, no less.'
"The caliph observed a dark ruby-ring on the finger of Noosheerwân, on which was written,