CHAPTER X.
I returned to my lodging full of thought. What with the conversations I had heard in the coach, what with the strange sayings of Mrs. Figsby and her husband, I began to have my eyes a little more opened than they were before. I considered that, notwithstanding the flourishing exterior of things, and the general appearances of prosperity which had struck my eyes, there might be truth in the rumours which had been so current in Persia, that England was declining fast in greatness, and was on the brink of ruin. I had occasionally seen madmen in my own country, from whose brain all sense had fled when their minds were bent upon a particular subject, but who still upon others were rational, and acted like sane men. "May not that be the case here?" thought I; "and, if all the nation has run mad by one common consent upon this desire of change, they may have sapped the foundation of their real happiness and prosperity, although they still build fine houses and exhibit resplendent shops."
I determined, in conformity to my instructions from the asylum of the universe, to present my letters to the English vizier; to have a conversation with him, and then to settle whether I should deliver the fortunate letter, of which I was the bearer, from the king of kings to the King of England. Accordingly, I proceeded to a certain dark and obscure street, where, on former occasions, I recollected the sovereign had ordered his vizier to receive the ambassadors and ministers of foreign powers, and there to transact their business, and, sure enough, I found things just as I had left them; thus far there had been no reform. I found no parade of guards, executioners, officers, or heralds; but one little man seated in a great leather chair, and through his interference I was introduced into a dark room, without a single word of welcome being said, not even "Good morning," and "Fine day;" and there I was left until the vizier could speak to me.
I waited what appeared to me a long time,—quite long enough to consider, if this was an English palace, what must be an English prison! At length another infidel invited me to follow him, and, after having been paraded through a few rooms, I found myself in the presence of one whom I first took for the vizier, but who I soon found was only his deputy. He was very kind and civil, and asked my business in courteous language; upon which I told him that I was just arrived from the foot of the Persian throne, and was the bearer of a letter to the English vizier, as well as to his royal master. He seemed pleased at this information; but he asked me a question which made the wind fly out of my head.
"Pray, sir," said he, "do you bring us any letter from our minister in Persia? I do not think that we have been apprised of your mission."
Upon this I stroked down my beard, and, searching in the depths of my wit for a ready answer, I answered that I was despatched from the imperial stirrup as a courier, and not as a minister. "I have no letter but this;" upon which I drew from my breast the grand vizier's letter, which I delivered into his hand. He was at a loss whilst he unrolled it, for he evidently did not know the top from the bottom; and all communication must have ceased between us, had I not possessed the translation, which I had prudently caused to be made at Tabriz by one of my own countrymen who had received his education in England.
This, the vizier's deputy read over very attentively; and, as he read, I observed certain smiles break out on his features, from which I augured favourably. He then desired me to wait, whilst he took up the papers, and left the room to lay them before his chief, saying not a word of his own opinion upon their contents.
He soon returned, and, asking me to follow, he led the way into an adjacent room, where I found the English vizier in person. The appearance and manners of this personage were full of charm; and, although a man in his high office had usually the power of awing me into fear and diffidence of myself, still I felt no other sensations than what were agreeable when he addressed me.
"I have been reading strange things in this letter," said the vizier. "I am informed that my country is on the brink of ruin, and that his majesty the Shah, apprehending disaster might accrue to my own sovereign, has been pleased to offer him an asylum at his gate."
"That is, in truth, the object of my mission," said I. "You have spoken right."