He relates a horrid tale, the consequences of which plunge him in the
greatest misery.
In a few days after the camp was struck, and the Shah returned to his
winter quarters at Tehran, in the same pomp and parade with which he
had left it. I had resumed my post as sub-lieutenant to the chief
executioner, and was busily engaged in disposing of the men under my
command, that the best order might be preserved during the march, when
I was commanded to send off a messenger to Tehran, with orders that the
bazigers, the dancers and singers, should be in readiness to receive the
Shah on his arrival at Sulimanieh. This place, as I have said before, is
a palace situated on the banks of the Caraj, about nine parasangs from
the capital.
On receiving this order, my long-forgotten Zeenab came again to my
recollection, and all my tender feelings which, owing to my active life,
had hitherto lain dormant, were now revived. Seven months were elapsed
since we had first become acquainted; and although during that time I
had lived with men of a nature sufficiently barbarous to destroy every
good feeling, yet there was something so terrible in what I imagined
must now be her situation, and I felt myself so much the cause of it,
that my heart smote me every time that the subject came across my mind.
We shall soon see, thought I, if my fears be well founded. In a few
days more we reach Sulimanieh, and then her fate will be decided.
On the day of our arrival I headed the procession, to see that every
proper arrangement had been made within the palace; and as I approached
the walls of the harem, within which the bazigers had already taken
their station, I heard the sounds of their voices and of their musical
instruments. What would I not have given to have spoken to Zeenab, or
even to have observed her at a distance! But I knew that it would not be
prudent to ask many questions concerning her, as suspicions, dangerous
both to her and me, might arise, and probably involve us in immediate
ruin. Indeed, had I been inclined to give myself much stir on the
subject, it would have been to no purpose; for very shortly after I
heard the salute fired from the _Zamburek_ camels, which indicated that
the Shah had alighted from his horse.
After he had smoked one pipe in his hall of state, and had dismissed the
courtiers who attended him, he retired to the harem.
Upon his entrance there, I heard the songs of the women, accompanied by
tambourines, guitars, and little drums, rending the air as they walked
in procession before him. Well did I listen with all my ears to discover
Zeenabs voice; but every endeavour was baffled, and I remained in a
disagreeable state of vibration betwixt hope and fear, until a hasty
order was issued for my old master, Mirza Ahmak, the kings physician,
to appear immediately before the Shah. Combinations of the mind in all
matters of deep interest are formed as quick as thought, and act like
the foretellings of prophecy. When I heard that the hakîm was sent for,
a cold thrill ran through my veins, and I said to myself, Zeenab is
lost for ever!
He came, was soon dismissed, and seeing me at the door of the harem,
took me on one side, and said, Hajji, the Shah is much enraged. You
remember the Cûrdish slave, which I presented to him at the festival of
the No Rûz. She has not appeared among the dancing-women, and pretends
to be ill. He loves her, and had set his heart upon seeing her. He has
called me to account for her conduct, as if I could control the caprice
of this daughter of the devil; and says, that if he does not find her in
full health and beauty when he reaches the ark (the palace), which will
be on the next best fortunate hour, he will pluck my beard out by the
roots. Curse the unlucky moment which made her my slave; and still more
the hour when I first invited the Shah into my house.
Upon this he left me, to set off immediately for Tehran, whilst I
retired to my tent, to ruminate over the horrid fate that awaited this
unfortunate girl. I endeavoured to rally my spirits by the hope that
perhaps she was actually ill, and that it had been impossible for her to
appear before the king; and then I consoled myself with the idea, that
if my fears were well founded, the doctors heart might be softened, and
he might screen her from the Shahs observation, by giving some evasive
reason for her non-appearance. Then, after all, as if braving my
feelings, I repeated to myself the lines of one of our poets, who, like
me, had lost his mistress.
Is there but one pair of stag eyes, or one cypress waist, or one
full-moon face in the world, that I should so mourn the loss of my cruel
one?
Why should I burn, why should I cut myself, and sigh out my griefs
under the windows of the deaf-eared charmer?
No, let me love where love is cheap; for I am a miser of my feelings.
Thus I endeavoured to make light of the subject, and to show myself a
true Mussulman by my contempt for womankind. But still, turn where I
would, go where I would, the image of Zeenab, a torn and mangled corpse,
was ever before my eyes, and haunted my imagination at all seasons and
at all hours.
At length the fortunate hour for the Shahs entry was announced, and he
entered Tehran amidst the whole of its population, who had been turned
out to greet his arrival. My most pressing want was to see the hakîm,
as if by chance, in order that no suspicion might fall upon me, in case
poor Zeenab was found guilty. On the very evening of our arrival, my
wishes (alas! how fatally!) were accomplished. As I was taken up in
giving some orders to a nasakchi, I saw him come out of the Shahs
private apartment, looking full of care, with one hand stuck in his
girdle, the other in his side, his back more bent than usual, and with
his eyes fixed on the ground. I placed myself in his way, and gave him
the salutation of peace, which caused him to look up.
When he had recognized me, he stopped, saying, You are the very man
I was seeking. Come hither; and he took me on one side: Here is a
strange story afloat, said he; this Cûrd has brought all sorts of
ashes on my head. _Wallah!_ by Heaven, the Shah has run clean mad.
He talks of making a general massacre of all that is male, within and
without his harem, beginning with his viziers, and finishing by the
eunuchs. He swears by his own head, that he will make me the first
example if I do not find out the culprit.
What culprit? who? what? said I, what has happened?
Why, Zeenab, answered he, Zeenab.
Oh! I understand, said I; Aye! she you used to love so much.
I? answered the Hakîm, as if afraid of being himself suspected, I?
_Astaferallah!_ Heaven forbid! Do not say so for pitys sake, Hajji, for
if such a suspicion were once hinted, the Shah would put his threat into
immediate execution. Where did you ever hear that I loved Zeenab?
Many things were reported concerning you at that time, said I, and
all were astonished that a man of your wisdom, the Locman of his time,
the Galenûs of Persia, should have embarked in so frail and dangerous a
commodity as a Cûrdish maid, one of the undoubted progeny of the
devil himself, whose footsteps could not be otherwise than notoriously
unfortunate; who, of herself, was enough to bring ill luck to a whole
empire, much more to a single family like yours.
You say true, Hajji, said Mirza Ahmak, as he shook his head from
side to side, and struck his left hand on the pit of his stomach. Ah!
marvellous fool was I ever to have been caught by her black eyes! in
fact, they were not eyes, they were spells:--the devil himself looked
out of them, not she, and if he is not in her now, may I be called
_Gorumsak_ all the rest of my days. But, after all, what shall I do?
What can I say? answered I. What will the Shah do with her?
Let her go to Jehanum, answered the doctor; let her go to her
fathers mansion, and a good journey to her. I am only thinking of my
own skin.
Upon this, looking up tenderly at me, he said, Ah, Hajji! you know how
much I have always loved you: I took you into my house when you were
houseless--I placed you in a good situation, and you have risen in your
profession all through me--allow that there is, or that there ought to
be such a thing in the world as gratitude--you have now an opportunity
of exercising it: then pausing for a while, and playing with the tip of
my beard, he said, Have you guessed what I wished to say?
No, said I, it has not yet reached my understanding.
Well, then, said he, in two words, own that you are the culprit. A
great loss of consideration would accrue to me, but none to you; you are
young, and can bear such a story to be told of you.
Loss of consideration, indeed! exclaimed I, what is that when the
loss of life will ensue? Are you mad, oh Hakîm, or do you think me so?
Why should I die? why do you wish to have my blood upon your head? All I
can say, if I am questioned on the subject, is, that I do not think you
guilty, because you were ever too much in fear of the khanum, your wife;
but I will never say that I am guilty.
Whilst in the middle of our conversation, one of the Shahs eunuchs
came up to me, and said that his chief had been ordered to see that the
sub-lieutenant to the chief executioner, with five men, were in waiting
at the foot of the high tower at the entrance of the harem, at the hour
of midnight; and that they were to bring a _taboot_, or hand-bier, with
them, to bear away a corpse for interment.
All I could say in answer was _be cheshm!_ (by my eyes); and lucky was
it for me that he quitted me immediately, that Mirza Ahmak had also left
me, and that it was dusk, or else the fear and anguish which overwhelmed
me upon hearing this message must have betrayed me. A cold sweat broke
out all over my body, my eyes swam, my knees knocked under me, and I
should perhaps have fallen into a swoon, if the counter fear of being
seen in such a state, in the very centre of the palace, had not roused
me.
What, said I to myself, is it not enough that I have been the cause
of her death, must I be her executioner too? must I be the grave-digger
to my own child? must I be the ill-fated he who is to stretch her cold
limbs in the grave, and send my own lifes blood back again to its
mother earth? Why am I called upon to do this, oh cruel, most cruel
destiny? Cannot I fly from the horrid scene? Cannot I rather run a
dagger into my heart? But no, tis plain my fate is ordained, sealed,
fixed! and in vain I struggle,--I must fulfil the task appointed for me!
Oh world, world! what art thou, and how much more wouldst thou be known,
if each man was to lift up the veil that hideth his own actions, and
show himself as he really is!
With these feelings, oppressed as if the mountain of Demawend and all
its sulphurs were on my heart, I went about my work doggedly, collecting
the several men who were to be my colleagues in this bloody tragedy;
who, heedless and unconcerned at an event of no unfrequent occurrence,
were indifferent whether they were to be the bearers of a murdered
corpse, or themselves the instruments of murder.
The night was dark and lowering, and well suited to the horrid scene
about to be acted. The sun, unusual in these climates, had set,
surrounded by clouds of the colour of blood; and, as the night advanced,
they rolled on in unceasing thunders over the summits of the adjacent
range of Albors. At sudden intervals the moon was seen through the dense
vapour, which covered her again as suddenly, and restored the night to
its darkness and solemnity. I was seated lonely in the guard-room of
the palace, when I heard the cries of the sentinels on the watch-towers,
announcing midnight, and the voices of the muezzins from the mosques,
the wild notes of whose chant floating on the wind ran through my veins
with the chilling creep of death, and announced to me that the hour of
murder was at hand! They were the harbingers of death to the helpless
woman. I started up,--I could not bear to hear them more,--I rushed on
in desperate haste, and as I came to the appointed spot, I found my five
companions already arrived, sitting unconcerned on and about the coffin
that was to carry my Zeenab to her eternal mansion. The only word which
I had power to say to them was, _Shoud?_ Is it done? to which they
answered, _Ne shoud._ It is not done. To which ensued an awful
silence. I had hoped that all was over, and that I should have been
spared every other horror, excepting that of conducting the melancholy
procession to the place of burial; but no, the deed was still to be
done, and I could not retreat.
On the confines of the apartments allotted to the women in the Shahs
palace stands a high octagonal tower, some thirty gez in height, seen
conspicuous from all parts of the city, at the summit of which is
a chamber, in which he frequently reposes and takes the air. It is
surrounded by unappropriated ground, and the principal gate of the harem
is close to its base. On the top of all is a terrace (a spot, ah! never
by me to be forgotten!) and it was to this that our whole attention
was now riveted. I had scarcely arrived, when, looking up, we saw
three figures, two men and a female, whose forms were lighted up by an
occasional gleam of moonshine, that shone in a wild and uncertain manner
upon them. They seemed to drag their victim between them with much
violence, whilst she was seen in attitudes of supplication, on her
knees, with her hands extended, and in all the agony of the deepest
desperation. When they were at the brink of the tower her shrieks were
audible, but so wild, so varied by the blasts of wind that blew round
the building, that they appeared to me like the sounds of laughing
madness.
We all kept a dead and breathless silence: even my five ruffians seemed
moved--I was transfixed like a lump of lifeless clay, and if I am asked
what my sensations were at the time, I should be at a loss to describe
them,--I was totally inanimate, and still I knew what was going on. At
length, one loud, shrill, and searching scream of the bitterest woe
was heard, which was suddenly lost in an interval of the most frightful
silence. A heavy fall, which immediately succeeded, told us that all was
over. I was then roused, and with my head confused, half crazed and half
conscious, I immediately rushed to the spot, where my Zeenab and
her burden lay struggling, a mangled and mutilated corpse. She still
breathed, but the convulsions of death were upon her, and her lips moved
as if she would speak, although the blood was fast flowing from her
mouth. I could not catch a word, although she uttered sounds that seemed
like words. I thought she said, My child! my child! but perhaps it
was an illusion of my brain. I hung over her in the deepest despair, and
having lost all sense of prudence and of self-preservation, I acted
so much up to my own feelings, that if the men around me had had the
smallest suspicion of my real situation, nothing could have saved
me from destruction. I even carried my frenzy so far as to steep my
handkerchief in her blood, saying to myself, This, at least, shall
never part from me! I came to myself, however, upon hearing the shrill
and demon-like voice of one of her murderers from the towers height,
crying out--Is she dead? Aye, as a stone, answered one of my
ruffians. Carry her away, then, said the voice. To hell yourself,
in a suppressed tone, said another ruffian; upon which my men lifted the
dead body into the taboot, placed it upon their shoulders, and walked
off with it to the burial-ground without the city, where they found
a grave ready dug to receive it. I walked mechanically after them,
absorbed in most melancholy thoughts, and when we had arrived at the
burial-place, I sat myself down on a grave-stone, scarcely conscious
of what was going on. I watched the operations of the nasakchies with a
sort of unmeaning stare; saw them place the dead body in the earth; then
shovel the mould over it; then place two stones, one at the feet and the
other at the head. When they had finished, they came up to me and said
that all was done: to which I answered, Go home; I will follow. They
left me seated on the grave, and returned to the town.
The night continued dark, and distant thunders still echoed through the
mountains. No other sound was heard, save now and then the infant-like
cries of the jackal, that now in packs, and then by two or three at the
time, kept prowling round the mansions of the dead.
The longer I remained near the grave, the less I felt inclined to return
to my home, and to my horrid employment of executioner. I loathed my
existence, and longed to be so secluded from the world, and from all
dealings with those of high authority in it, that the only scheme which
I could relish was that of becoming a real dervish, and passing the
rest of my days in penitence and privations. Besides, the fear of having
disclosed, both by my words and actions, how much I was involved in the
fate of the deceased, came across my mind, and added to my repugnance of
returning.
Day by this time began to dawn, and impelled, both by a sense of my
danger and by my desire to quit a place which had become odious to me, I
determined to proceed on foot to Kinaragird, the first stage to Ispahan,
and then take advantage of the first caravan that should be going to
that city.
I will go and seek consolation in retirement, and in the bosom of
my family, said I to myself; I will see what is become of my
parents--perhaps I may reach the paternal roof in time to receive my
fathers dying blessing, and by my presence give him in his old age the
happiness of seeing his long-lost son restored to him. How shall I be
able to go through my duties, with this misfortune about my neck? I
have lived long enough in vice, and it is time that I should make the
_tobeh_, or renounce my wicked ways.
In short, this horrid event produced such an effect upon my mind, that
had I continued in the sentiments it inspired me with through life,
I might well have aspired to be placed at the head of our most holy
dervishes.
[Illustration: Hajji takes sanctuary. 22.jpg]