and sister (who only wished her to keep out of sight, and beyond this,
cared very little what became of her), nor even had she caught a passing
glimpse of the Prince, from whom they concealed all knowledge of her
existence. The pains they took to accomplish their wishes, in this
respect, was the very cause of bringing Kluma to his notice. One of the
servants, in waiting on him, who, like all the rest, was attached to
Kluma, and indignant at her being deprived of her liberty, let fall
some hints one day that awakened the curiosity of the Prince, about the
beautiful daughter of the King, who was confined in the palace, and,
being urged, told the whole story of her wrongs, that it was Kluma and
not Cerulia who had saved his life, and whose voice he so loved to hear.
The Prince, enraged at the deceit that had been practised upon him,
immediately sent for the King and Queen, and demanded that they should
produce their other daughter, who was a prisoner in the palace, or he
would leave their kingdom at once, and return home alone. They were very
much alarmed, and tried to appease his wrath, by making a confession of
the fraud that they had practised on him, but represented that it was on
account of the perfect hideousness of Kluma, and that she was not even
fit to be presented to him; but, as they had already deceived him, and
the servant had expatiated largely on her great attractions, he
persisted in his desire to see her. The Princess Cerulia, in a rage at
the implied slight to herself, and thinking to mortify the Prince and
Kluma at the same time, proposed that she should be sent for, and the
King, thinking it the best mode of ending this importunity of the
Prince, and of convincing him of the truth, consented to its being done.
She was accordingly conducted, trembling and agitated, into their
presence. The Princess Cerulia haughtily and triumphantly turned her
eyes, first upon the Prince, then upon Kluma, when lo! she stood glowing
before them, in unsurpassed loveliness. The King and Queen were no less
amazed, not knowing how this wonderful change had been wrought. As for
the Prince, he needed no second look to know that to this Princess his
heart should be given. He thanked her for his life, which she had saved
to him, and when she answered he knew the voice he had so longed to hear
again. The King, seeing that there was still a hope of his claiming the
Prince for his son-in-law, came forward, and tendered the hand of Kluma,
which the Prince graciously accepted, as by this time he was completely
captivated.
Words cannot describe the rage of the Princess Cerulia when she saw
Kluma thus openly preferred to herself, and her mortification knew no
bounds, when, after an imposing pageant, and bridal ceremony (at which
she was forced to appear as chief bridesmaid), she saw Kluma depart, as
the bride of the Prince Talyon, to the kingdom of his father, to which
he was heir, and where they lived in happiness many long years; and
Kluma still grew more lovely in the eyes of her husband, for the mist
was never dissipated as long as she lived, by the rude breath of anger
or malice.
V.
THE RICH PERSIAN AND THE STATUE.
There was once a rich Persian, named Bolamah, whose father had left him
in possession of such vast amounts of treasure that he exceeded even the
greatest Princes of the country in wealth. Bolamah had a splendid
palace, full of all that could delight the senses, and furnish food for
the mind; such statuary and rich paintings was never before seen; such
magnificent gardens, grottoes and fountains; beside this, he was
exceedingly handsome in person and accomplished in mind and manners. Of
course, he was surrounded by flatterers, who paid court to him, because,
in return, he heaped benefits upon them, and, so accustomed was he to
praise, that insensibly it became necessary to his happiness, and those
who were most fulsome in their adulation were the surest of gaining his
favor.
He had, however, one true friend, who esteemed Bolamah next to himself;
and if any make profession of greater friendship than that, we ought to
suspect their sincerity. This friend, called Cobez, was poor but honest,
and much attached to Bolamah, who was fond of him also. For a long time
after his father’s death, Bolamah found plenty of employment in
perfecting and adorning his palace, and Cobez was always appointed to
oversee the execution of the plans that the fine taste of his patron
suggested. By their joint efforts the palace of Bolamah was so noted for
its elegance that many came from afar to see it, and were enchanted, and
did homage to the fortunate owner, who was the proudest of men. When he
reached his thirtieth year he felt that his happiness would be more
complete if he had a wife, to be with him constantly, and to share the
grandeur and luxury that surrounded him. He opened, as usual, his mind
to Cobez, and promised to bestow on him a magnificent reward, if he
would procure him a suitable companion. Cobez readily enough accepted
the commission, first revolving in his mind what sort of woman would be
most likely to please Bolamah. In regard to her beauty, that matter was
settled at once--it was indispensable; and in Persia, where the women
have a world-wide reputation for personal attractions, it was no hard
matter to find plenty which would charm the eye. “But,” thought he,
“Bolamah, who is so learned and accomplished himself, will require that
his wife also, in the same manner, excel all others; and to find beauty
and talent combined would be a difficult task.” Nevertheless, he
determined to undertake it, and gain the reward if he was able, for
Cobez was in love, and would have asked no one to choose a wife for him
while pretty little black-eyed Manilla lived with her old father, by the
side of the same river that passed through the splendid grounds of
Bolamah, yet did not disdain to make its gladdest music in rushing by
their little cot, that stood in the humblest vale.
Cobez knew if he could gain the reward that Bolamah offered it would
make him rich as he desired for the rest of his life; he could then
marry his little Manilla, and make sure that she was his own; and he
felt that he could never rest easy till this was done, for she was beset
by all the neighboring swains; and, though she had given him her troth,
he could not help feeling anxious and uneasy when others, richer than
himself, were pressing their suits with such ardor. Cobez, therefore,
sought earnestly to find out some woman to present to Bolamah, and one
fine morning, setting out on a journey, he resolved not to come back
till he had accomplished his object. After having been gone for a long
time, and hearing of many whom he thought would be likely to please,
but, on searching them out, finding himself always disappointed, he one
day heard of a very beautiful woman, of whose voice such wonders were
told that he determined to hear her for himself; accordingly he
travelled to the place where this singing bird (whose name was Natinga),
resided. He found her with a crowd about her, who were listening
breathlessly while she poured forth from her swelling throat such a
melody that poor Cobez sat down overpowered and listened, forgetting
for the time his errand, Bolamah, Manilla, everything, so completely was
his soul ravished from him. When she had ceased he recovered himself
enough to perceive that she was as finely formed and handsome a woman as
one could wish to see, and he felt sure, if Bolamah could only hear her
sing, he would marry her at once, and thus have her where he could
always be listening to the music of her voice.
He found no great trouble in persuading Natinga to go with him. She was
poor, and, like her sex, fond of luxury and splendor, and Cobez had not
been behindhand in picturing the brilliant future that lay before her,
if she would leave her home and follow him. She bade adieu to her
parents and friends, and set off with Cobez, but in parting felt
sorrowful enough, as she remembered how proud they all had been of her;
but when, after three days, she came in sight of a stately palace, and
Cobez told her that, in all probability, it would be her future home,
she banished her regrets, and bore herself through the gateway, on her
camel, with as proud an air as a queen about to receive the homage of
her subjects. Bolamah met them at the door, and conducted them to the
apartments that he had appropriated to the use of his future wife.
“Here,” thought Natinga, “one can but be happy.” And no wonder she
thought so, for everything a woman could fancy or desire was there; the
softest carpets, in which the feet sank as into mossy turf; couches of
velvet and down; fountains, with gay birds dipping their tiny beaks into
the spray; flowers, whose odors almost palled on the senses by their
richness. Poor Natinga was at first bewildered, and Cobez feared she
would not be collected enough to do her best before Bolamah at night,
which he had appointed as the time when he should first listen to her
music. But at evening, seated on a balcony overlooking a scene of
beauty, made visible by the moonlight, she was so excited and inspired
that she poured forth, as if from her very soul, such notes as Cobez had
never heard from her before. Bolamah, completely ravished, declared
passionately that this was the woman of all others to be his chosen
companion; and the hearts of the three that evening were full of joy:
Bolamah, at having such a lovely and accomplished being for his bride,
Natinga, with her new-found splendor, and Cobez, that he had gained the
reward that was to do so much for him. Bolamah was so proud of Natinga
and her genius that he sent invitations to all the wealthy gentlemen of
distinction, with their families, to come to a great feast that he was
preparing, and which was to last for a whole month, and terminate with
his marriage. He caused a sort of throne to be erected for himself and
Natinga at the end of a splendid hall, or court, where, with a harp of
gold in her hand, she performed and sang before the assembly, who were
in raptures. Their applause at first pleased Bolamah, but he soon found
that he was cast into the shade by the superiority of Natinga; that when
he took the harp his own performance did not please even himself, and
only called forth such meager applause as the politeness of his guests
forced from them. And, day by day, as they became more charmed with
Natinga’s music, and poured forth the flattery at her shrine that he had
been wont to receive himself, he grew more disquieted, and laid the
consequences of his own vanity to the account of poor Natinga. He began
to fancy that her music was harsh and discordant, that it grated upon
his ear, and he grew sullen and ill-humored towards her, while she, poor
thing, never imagining the cause of his unhappiness, went on trying to
please him by even outdoing herself, which, of course, only rendered her
the more odious to him.
At last his distaste became so evident that Cobez perceived something
was wrong, and shortly after, Bolamah told him that he must take her out
of his sight, and endeavor to procure for him a wife whose tastes should
better accord with his own. Cobez was very sorry to hear this, indeed
much more grieved than Natinga herself, when she came to be told of it,
for her life had latterly been made so unpleasant, by Bolamah’s
harshness, she was only too glad to be permitted to go back again to the
kind friends who had been so proud of her, more especially so, as
Bolamah in his anxiety to get rid of her, had to make amends to her for
her disappointment, by loading her with valuable presents, and
graciously bidding her farewell.
Cobez conducted her again to her native place, where the whole town,
when they heard that she was returning to them, came out to receive her,
and carried her triumphantly to her own little home--to her parents,
where her song was soon heard “ringing up the sky,” as would a wild
bird’s, who had been confined in a golden cage, when it felt itself
free, and again in the little nest of its infancy.
While Cobez was rather sadly returning, leading the gaily housed animal
which had borne Natinga to her home, all his fine schemes having fallen
to the ground by this sudden change in the mind of Bolamah, he saw
before him a company of ladies and gentlemen to whom he wished to join
himself, as the road was infested with robbers, who were apt to molest
single travellers; he rode up, and asked to go along with them, to which
they gladly gave their consent. He found that they were going to look
at some paintings in a town not far off, which were said to be the most
beautiful in the world. Cobez resolved to go with them, and secure the
choicest for Bolamah’s palace. They entered a gallery where they were on
exhibition, and Cobez felt sure that they surpassed anything that he had
ever seen, although he had made a collection in the palace of all that
were the most celebrated; and on asking to see the artist, he was very
much astonished when a female presented herself, a lovely woman, with a
pure Grecian face and form, mild brown eyes and hair, whose smooth
braids were folded classically around her forehead. Krayona had a
gentleness of manner, that indicated a pliable disposition. Cobez
instantly said to himself, What if I should induce this lady to
accompany me home; Bolamah, who paints so well himself, would surely
enjoy having his wife in possession of the same talent. Dear me, were I
like Bolamah, able to marry, I should not be so long in making a choice;
but such a poor ignorant thing as Manilla would not suit Bolamah. She
cannot sing or paint, or do anything clever, but her laugh is music
enough for me, and her little fingers twirl the thread she spins so
prettily, and her small feet go dancing along with such a graceful
lightness, that she is more charming to me than the most accomplished
lady in the land. But if I do not succeed in getting the reward, what
will all her prettiness avail me; I shall be too poor to marry her; so
at a venture I will take Krayona, and see if she will not please Bolamah
better than Natinga has done. Krayona did not refuse the honor of
becoming a candidate, as the wife of the wealthiest gentleman in Persia,
when Cobez represented to her that he was in favor of her accompanying
him. So one morning saw her on the camel, that had borne Natinga in a
contrary direction, and with her choicest paintings in a caravan behind,
journeying over a delightful country, toward the palace of Bolamah. They
reached it as sunset was gilding its walls with its gorgeous floods of
light. They entered the palace quietly, and Krayona, without being
announced, was conducted by Cobez to his own apartments, and the next
day, when he and Bolamah were alone together, he told him of Krayona,
and caused the finest of her works to be shown to him, which Bolamah so
admired that he greatly desired to see the artist. Her modest address
and mild beauty so charmed him, that he directly desired that she should
be made mistress of the apartments that Natinga had formerly occupied,
and have free access to his galleries of painting and statuary, to
gratify her favorite tastes. She was almost beside herself in the midst
of these works of art, and with Bolamah, spent most of her time there,
copying from the old masters, or out amid the beautiful works of nature,
sketching beside him. Now, Cobez thought his patron would be satisfied,
and all would go well again; but he found that it was not so. Bolamah
had caused Krayona’s paintings to be hung beside his own, and on first
seeing them together, was excessively mortified, to behold what a sorry
appearance his own made beside them; and when he saw that all eyes,
after glancing at his, instantly returned to those of Krayona, he began
to be as jealous of her as he before had been of Natinga, and to wish
her as heartily out of his sight. Krayona was too much occupied with her
art to notice the change in Bolamah; but Cobez, who watched him closely,
soon detected it, and made up his mind that as Bolamah was so fickle, it
would be almost impossible to fix him in his choice, and he felt no
surprise when Bolamah instructed him to make presents to Krayona, as he
had done to Natinga, and convey her away in the same manner. All which
he did; and Krayona, without a word of complaint, left her grandeur, and
returned to her former station, happy and contented.
Now about this time, travelers from the eastern part of Persia came
through the country where Bolamah dwelt, and gave their testimony to the
genius of a bright star in poetry that had arisen in that land; her fame
was so noised abroad as to rivet the ears of Cobez and Bolamah, who,
from time to time conversed upon the various reports of her that came to
them, and at last, so much was he interested, Cobez was directed to find
her out, and if possible, to bring her to the palace. After much
seeking, he obtained an entrance into her presence, where she was
surrounded with auditors, before whom she was reciting her stanzas. He
thought her a glorious creature, with her black hair streaming wildly,
and her eyes of fire, her low broad brow, and cheek pale, excepting as
it was lit by the flash of genius. She needed the most glowing
descriptions from Cobez of Bolamah’s riches and power, to induce her to
consent to go with him; but he succeeded at last; and after a journey,
the most trying to Cobez, they came to a point where a cavalcade, sent
out by Bolamah, to welcome his chosen bride to her home, was waiting to
meet them. Bolamah himself came many miles in state, to receive one so
distinguished, and they conducted her with ceremony into the palace,
where everything had been put in order to welcome her. It took her
several days to recover the fatigues of her journey, and all the while
Bolamah was waiting impatiently to converse with her, and to hear her
poetry. At last she gave out that she would meet him with his friends
in the great hall, and recite to him her poetry. In the evening she was
inducted into the seat that Natinga had occupied, when she sang before
them, and with Bolamah beside her, she commenced a wild rhapsody, then
swelling to a lofty strain, she told of the battle raging high, till the
warriors would place their hands upon their swords, and breathe forth
fire; then her voice and words would soothe, till they sank back and
listened, while she poured a tale of love; then she would melt them to
tears with her pathetic lay, till they hushed their very breaths to hear
her. Bolamah was at first carried along with the tide, and praised and
admired as well as others; but the next day, alone with Hersala, when he
commenced repeating to her some of his own poetry, he found first that
she was yawning wearily, and then, that she was fast asleep. He
discovered, too, that one who had been so constantly flattered as
Hersala, like himself, needed the excitement of praise, and that after
these fits of inspiration, she was more than usually dull; that her
temper was not as mild as that of Natinga, or Krayona, and that the
wild passion she expressed, sometimes moved her own bosom to a storm.
If he had been jealous of Natinga and Krayona, he might well be of
Hersala, for she so wrought upon the minds of all, the very scullions in
the kitchen were repeating her words or singing her songs; and so
greatly was she adored, that a crowd followed her footsteps, and
Bolamah, of so much importance before, sank into insignificance beside
her. He became at last so mad with jealousy, that he dismissed her
suddenly, and she, in a rage at his treatment, wrote verses on Bolamah,
and placed his foibles in such a ludicrous light, that he was so
mortified at the time as to declare he would no more allow a female to
become a candidate for the honor of being his wife, and that he would
remain unmarried to the end of his days.
Cobez, who had been near getting into disgrace himself by his repeated
failures, began now to have an inkling of the true state of the case. He
now understood that Bolamah would not be satisfied with a wife who was
constantly casting him, her lord, into the shade by her superiority;
that a companion, to please him, must be content to be his humble
admirer, and that, if he ever obtained the reward, it must be by the
greatest caution and skillfulness on his own part. Now Cobez had an
intimate friend called Meldon, a cunning sculptor, who carried his art
to the highest degree of perfection. In his perplexity to Meldon Cobez
went, and told him all about Bolamah, and of his unsuccessful attempts
to satisfy him, and of his own desire to make Menilla his wife, and then
promised him half the reward, if he would devise and assist him in
carrying out some plan to fulfill his wishes. This Meldon consented to
do, and on putting their heads together, concocted a scheme so much to
their satisfaction that they proceeded at once to execute it. Meldon set
himself to work, and made the perfect image of a woman; it was tall, and
of the most symmetrical proportions. He moulded the features so
perfectly, they had the form and the very expression of life; the eyes
were of the darkest hazel, soft and varying in their light; the hair,
silken, glossy, and black as the wing of a raven, fell over shoulders of
marble whiteness, round and polished; her bosom was made to rise and
fall with the breath that he breathed from his own lips into hers; her
arms dazzled one to look upon them, and the taper fingers of the slender
hand were taught to move gracefully over the strings of a harp; her
brows were black, and arched like a bow, her lashes long and dark. It
could move its limbs, and walk about with grace and dignity, unclose the
lips, smile sweetly, and softly murmur, “Beautiful! Beautiful!” When it
was completed, they arrayed it in queenly robes. When Cobez saw it
finished, he was so delighted with the beautiful image, he was tempted
to forget Menilla forever, and throw himself at its feet; but he
presently thought of the little warm heart that was beating beneath her
bosom, and felt that she was ten times dearer to him than this stately,
cold beauty. They gave the image the name of Fauna, and set to work to
plan how to bring her to the notice of Bolamah. So they contrived at
last that Cobez should represent to him that a great lady had come from
far to view his splendid palace; and having obtained Bolamah’s consent
to its being exhibited to her by them, they timed their visit so well as
to meet Bolamah at the door as they were alighting from their chariot.
Bolamah, who had so long been distinguished for his high breeding, could
not allow such a magnificent lady, like a queen in her mien and dress,
to pass him without the ordinary expressions of politeness. He therefore
returned her graceful salutation, and gave her his arm, and with a step
as calm and measured as her own, traversed with her the walks and
apartments of the grounds and of the palace. Everything met her
approbation. Did he show her his gardens, his paintings, or take up his
lute and sing, still the sweet smile hovered around her mouth, and the
words, “Beautiful! Beautiful!” were murmured from her lips, till at last
Bolamah, who could no longer resist her beauty, her grace, and, above
all, her appreciation of himself, fell at her feet, telling her that she
of all should be the chosen one who was to share his palace and his
heart; and Fauna only drooped her proud head a little lower, and still
murmured softly, “Beautiful! Beautiful!” till Bolamah was quite overcome
with her dignity and sweet compliance to his wishes. Cobez was in
transports when he found his plan had worked so admirably. Fauna was now
the constant and approved companion of Bolamah; he never was willing to
have her away from him a moment, and preparations for the marriage were
put forward with haste, to the great joy of Cobez, who was convinced
that Bolamah was now in earnest. At last all was in readiness, and the
marriage took place, at which Fauna comported herself with such dignity
as to win the approbation of Bolamah and the admiration of all that
looked upon her; and when she was installed as mistress of the palace,
her bearing toward the guests was so queenly, yet condescending, that
even the ladies, who are apt to be jealous of their own sex, declared
her the most fascinating woman in the universe.
So pleased was Bolamah with Fauna, that he doubled the reward that he
had offered to Cobez, because he had been the means of bringing to his
notice one who was so charming, and of procuring him so much happiness.
This money Cobez divided with his friend Meldon, through whose skill he
had been able to obtain it, and with part of their money they purchased
two cottages; and when Cobez had married Menilla, and had a family about
him, Meldon was godfather to his children, and his favorite, called
after him, bade fair to equal him in skill in the art which Meldon
loved.
Cobez and Menilla lived very happily together--(not quite as calmly,
perhaps, as Bolamah and his spouse, whose domestic peace was a proverb
in the country); but when Menilla was a little capricious and wayward,
Cobez only said to Meldon, “There, she shows her flesh and blood, and
her warm heart,” and he never thought of envying Bolamah and Fauna in
the unvarying calmness of their life.
VI.
THE ROSE AND THE LILY.