"The man who no ingratitude has found,
Has never trod on courtiers' slipp'ry ground."
The calif, having one day heard these lines repeated, desired to know who was the author of them. At this time Kalan was supposed to be dead, and therefore the courtiers had nothing to fear, and no reason to conceal the name of the author. Those people who had formerly returned all his favours with ingratitude, now launched into high encomiums on his merit. In all this there is nothing astonishing. With respect to the arts and sciences, we see how different is the treatment the professors of them receive during their lives, and after they are no more. While living, he could perhaps hardly support his miserable existence; when dead, sumptuous and costly monuments are erected to his memory.
Kalan, having accidentally heard how much Mahmoud was pleased with the inscription on his door, quitted his retreat, and again appeared at Ispahan, to the astonishment of his friends, and the invidious regret of the courtiers. The calif received him kindly, and made him ample amends for all the neglect of his friends. Kalan was put into an office which enabled him to gratify all his beneficent wishes.
As the nettle and the rose thrive together on the same soil, so was the bosom of Kalan not without a weed. His too strong attachment to women sometimes led him astray, and made him unmindful of his duty. The calif was not ignorant of this fault in Kalan, for the courtiers that surrounded him took care that this error should not remain concealed. Mahmoud, though he pitied his weakness, did not esteem him the less on that account. "True it is," said the calif, "that an unbounded passion for women is much to be censured; but this folly will in time forsake him; while ambition, cruelty, and avarice, had any such vices got possession of him, would grow stronger as he advanced in age."
The calif's courtiers extolled the sublimity of this observation; but no sooner had he turned his back on them, than they ridiculed such a paltry idea. How much are courtiers to be pitied, who take so much pains to render themselves contemptible!
Some little time afterwards, the calif gave Kalan a commission to the furthest part of Persia, and fixed even the day and hour when he should expect him back. Kalan immediately set out on his journey, discharged his duty with the strictest punctuality, and returned a day before the time allowed. He received the applause due to his diligence, and was told, that every hour he gained on the stipulated time was of the utmost service to his country.
Kalan was the more pleased with these marks of the calif's approbation, as he received it in the presence of many courtiers, who all showed him the highest marks of applause, while in their hearts they hated and detested him, and envied the honours paid him by the calif.
The next day, however, one of these courtiers, deputed by the rest, approached Mahmoud, and, after bowing to the earth, thus addressed him:—"Most noble and glorious sovereign of the faithful, though I know not the nature of Kalan's late commission, yet I judge it was of the highest importance. Pardon then my zeal if, notwithstanding the transcendent light in which I behold him, I am under the disagreeable necessity of informing your highness, that he presumed to pass five days of that time so precious to the state, in the enjoyment of the pleasures of love."
The calif, astonished at this declaration, told the malevolent informer, that he hoped he could prove what he had asserted. "Dread sovereign," answered he, "his own slave will prove to you, that, at Gauri, nearly a hundred miles from this capital, he loitered in the lap of pleasure. The daughter of a caravanserist had influence over him sufficient to induce him to neglect, for five days, the confidence you had reposed in him, and the most important concerns of the state. If time should prove that I have accused him falsely, let me be the victim of your resentment."
Mahmoud thanked him for his vigilant information, which he presumed could arise from no other motive than his great attachment to his glory; and he assured him, that he would nicely search into the truth of what he had informed him. "Neither will I be forgetful," said the calif, "of the greatness of your soul, which has induced you to sacrifice to my interest the man, you say, you so much admire and revere."