It was agreed that the King of Persia should be indemnified for the loss he said he had sustained, and should receive in addition a present commensurate with the importance of the business, and that then Solyman should be allowed to put Bajazet to death.
Hassan hurried back and told his master of the arrangement he had concluded. The present was prepared, along with the sums demanded as expenses, and was conveyed, under the protection of a Turkish guard, to the frontiers of the Persian dominions. Hassan, too, came again as the unfortunate Bajazet’s appointed executioner, for Solyman had specially ordered that he should put him to death with his own hands. Accordingly the bow-string was put round Bajazet’s neck, and he was strangled to death. He is said to have asked one boon before his death, namely, to be allowed to see his children and share his kisses among them as a last token of affection; but this he asked in vain, being told ‘There was other business which required his immediate attention.’[259]
Such was the end of Bajazet’s ill-starred designs, whose ruin was precipitated by the very efforts he made to avoid it. His four sons shared their father’s fate.
I mentioned that one, who had been lately born, had been left at Amasia when his father fled, and that he had been removed by his grandfather to Broussa, where he was being brought up; but, when the Sultan knew it was all over with Bajazet, he sent a eunuch, whom he trusted, to Broussa to kill him. As the eunuch’s own disposition was too tender, he took with him one of the doorkeepers, a hard-hearted ruffian who was capable of any atrocity, to be the child’s murderer. When the doorkeeper entered the room, and was fitting the cord to the child’s neck, it smiled at him, and, raising itself as much as it could, threw up its little arms to give him a hug and a kiss. This so moved the cruel fellow that he could not bear it, and fell down in a swoon. The eunuch, who was waiting outside, wondered that he was so long, and at last going in himself, found the doorkeeper lying senseless on the ground. He could not afford to let his mission be a failure, and so with his own hands he stopped for ever the feeble breath of that innocent child.
From this it was clear enough that the grandson had been spared till then, not from the mercy of his grandfather, but from the Turkish superstition of referring all successful enterprises, whatever may have been the motive from which they were undertaken, to the instigation of God. On this account, as long as the issue of Bajazet’s attempts remained doubtful, Solyman determined to do no violence to the child, for fear that if afterwards Bajazet’s fortunes should take a turn for the better, he should be found to have been striving against the will of God. But now that he had perished, and thus had, as it were, been condemned by the sentence of God, he thought there was no reason for sparing Bajazet’s son any longer, that according to the proverb, not an egg of that mischievous crow might be left.
I once had a long argument with my cavasse on this subject, when I was in the islands I told you about. As I was returning from one of my more distant excursions, it happened that I could not double a projecting point, the wind being contrary. After striving for some time in vain, we were obliged to disembark and dine there, for in case of such an accident I used always to take about with us in the boat some cooked provisions. Several Turks, who had been forced to land there from the same cause, followed my example. My table was laid in a green meadow. The cavasse and dragomans sat down along with me. Bajazet happening to be mentioned, the cavasse began to inveigh against him without mercy for taking up arms against his brother. I on the other hand said, I thought he was to be pitied, because he had no choice except to take up arms or submit to certain death. But when the cavasse went on abusing him in as strong terms as before, I said, ‘You are making out Bajazet guilty of a monstrous atrocity, but you do not charge Selim, the father of the present Sultan, with any crime, though he took up arms not merely to resist his father’s will, but against his very person.’[260] ‘And with good reason,’ replied the cavasse, ‘for the issue of his enterprise showed clearly enough that he did what he did by prompting from above, and that it had been predestinated by Heaven.’ I answered, ‘On this principle you will interpret whatever has been undertaken, although from the most wicked motives, if it proves successful, to be done rightly, and will ascribe it to God’s will; and will thus make out God to be the author of evil, nor will you reckon anything to have been done well or the contrary, except by the result.’
We continued our argument for some time, each of us defending his position with great spirit and in a high tone of voice. Many texts of Scripture were cited on either side, ‘Can the vessel say to the potter, why hast thou formed me thus?’ ‘I will harden Pharaoh’s heart,’ ‘Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated,’ and others, as they came into our heads.
The Turks, who were a little way off, wondered what we were arguing about; so, after we had risen and the table had been removed, the cavasse went straight to his countrymen. They all came round him, and he appeared to be haranguing them, while they listened with the utmost attention. Then, as it was just noon, they kept silence and worshipped God after their manner with foreheads bowed to the ground. The time seemed long to me till the cavasse came back, as I was anxious to know what had been the subject of his earnest conversation with his countrymen. I felt a little afraid that he had repeated something I had said, and given it an unfavourable turn, although I had had sufficient proofs of his honesty.
At last, when the wind had gone down, and it was time to embark, we went on board again, and set out once more. Then the first thing I did was to ask the cavasse what he had been talking about so earnestly with his countrymen. He replied with a smile, ‘I will honestly confess to you what it was. They wanted to know from me what the subject was, on which we had been arguing so hotly. I said, “Predestination,” and repeated to them the texts, both those which you had cited on your side and those which you had recognised when quoted by me. Hence I argued that it was certain you had read our books, and were well acquainted with Holy Scripture, and that you wanted nothing to secure eternal happiness, except being initiated into our religion. Accordingly we exhorted each other to pray that God would bring you to the true faith; and these were the prayers you saw us making.’