An incident in the street diverts his despair--He seeks consolation in
the advice of old Osman.
When I had got into the street I walked hastily on without, for some
time, heeding whither I was bending my steps. My breast was convulsed by
a thousand contending passions; and so nearly had I lost possession of
my reason, that, when in sight of the sea, I began seriously to consider
whether it would not be wisdom to throw myself headlong in.
But, crossing a large open space, an occurrence happened which, however
trifling it may appear, was of great consequence to me, inasmuch as it
turned the current of my thoughts into a new channel, and saved me from
destruction. I was witness to one of those dog fights so frequently seen
in the streets of Constantinople. A dog had strayed into the territory
of another community, had infringed their rights, and stolen a bone.
Immediately an immense uproar ensued; all were on foot, and in full cry,
and the strange dog was chased across the border into his own territory.
Here, meeting some of his own friends, he called them about him,
returned to the attack, and a general engagement ensued as I was
passing.
While I stood by, intent upon the scene, a thought struck me, and I
exclaimed, Allah, oh Allah, how inscrutable are thy designs! and how
little ought man, narrow-minded, short-sighted man, ever to repine at
thy decrees! Thou throwest into my path a lesson, which teaches me the
way that I should go, and that assistance is ever at hand to those who
will seek it; and, though given by a dog, let me not despise it. No,
am I to be surprised at anything, when I see animals, without reason,
acting like men, with it? Let me not be cast down, but rather retreat to
where I may still find a friend, and seek consolation in his advice and
experience!
Upon this, I turned almost mechanically to where I knew I should find my
faithful friend and adviser, the old Osman, who, although a Turk and a
Sûni, had always behaved to me as if he had been my countryman, and
one of my own religious persuasion. He received me in his usual quiet
manner; and when I had related all my misfortunes, he puffed out a long
volume of smoke from his never-failing chibouk, and exclaimed, with a
deep sigh, _Allah kerim!_ (God is merciful!)
My friend, said he, when you appeared here in all your magnificence
before the Persians, from that moment I was apprehensive that some evil
would befall you. You perhaps are yet not old enough to have learnt how
odious are comparisons. Could you for a moment suppose, that men, in
your own station in life, who are drudging on, day after day, intent
upon the sale of a pipestick or a bag of Shiraz tobacco, that they could
bear to be bearded by an appearance of greatness and prosperity, so much
beyond anything which they could ever expect to attain? Had you appeared
with a better coat or a richer cap than they, or had you been mounted on
a horse, when they could only afford an ass, then, perhaps, nothing
more would have been said, but that you were more expert in making your
fortune, and a better retailer of your wares. But to crush, to beat them
down, with your magnificent dress, your amber-headed pipes, your train
of servants, your richly caparisoned horse, and, above all, the airs of
grandeur and protection which you took upon yourself, was more than they
could allow, and they immediately rose in hostility, and determined to
bring you down to their own level again, if possible. Evidently, it is
they who have whispered into the ear of your wifes brothers that you
were not a Bagdad merchant, but only the son of an Ispahan barber, and
a sorry vender of little wares. They, doubtless, soon undeceived them
respecting the possibility of fulfilling the stipulations to which you
have bound yourself in your wifes marriage contract; and they, it is
plain, have commented freely upon your pretensions to noble birth, and
upon the flourishing account which you gave of your mercantile concerns,
of your transactions in Bokhara, and of your ships sailing to China. Had
you first visited me in a quiet way, as Hajji Baba, the Ispahani, and
not as Hajji Baba, the Turkish Aga, I would have warned you against
making an undue exhibition of yourself and your prosperity before your
countrymen; but the mischief was done as soon as the deed was over,
and now all that can be recommended is, that from the past you gain
experience for the future. After this speech he took to his pipe again,
and puffed away with redoubled vigour.
This may be very true, said I. What is done, is done, and peace abide
with it: but, after all, I am a Mussulman, and justice is due to me as
well as to another. I never heard of a woman putting away her husband,
although the contrary frequently happens; and it has not yet reached my
understanding why I should be the only true believer who is called
into the house, and thrust out of it again, in a manner that would even
disgrace a dog, merely because it suits a capricious woman one morning
to like, and the evening after to dislike, me. Cadies, mufties,
sheikh-el-islams, abound here as well as in other Mohamedan cities,
and why should I not have recourse to them? They are paid to administer
justice, and wherefore should they sit, with their hands across,
counting their beads, when such injustice as that, with which I have
been visited, is going about the land seeking for redress?
Are you mad, Hajji, rejoined the old man, to think of redress from
the widow and relations of one of the most powerful emirs of Islam, and
that, too, when she is supported by her brothers, two of the richest
merchants in Constantinople? Where have you lived all your lifetime, not
to know, that he who hath most gold hath most justice? and that, if such
a man as you were to appear before the tribunal of the mufti, with every
word, line, leaf, and surai of the Koran in your favour, and one as rich
and powerful as your wifes brother were to appear on the other side
against you, as long as he had gold in his favour, you might appeal
to your sacred book until you and it were tired of walking round each
other, for justice you would never obtain.
O, Ali! O, Mohammed! exclaimed I, if the world is indeed as
iniquitous as this, then Hajji Baba, truly, has made a bad bargain, and
I wish he were again in possession of his pipesticks: but I cannot, and
will not, lose all and everything in this easy manner,--I will go and
proclaim my misfortunes from the housetop, rather.
Upon which, in utter despair, I began to cry and moan, and pulled out
some of my beard by the roots.
Osman Aga endeavoured to comfort me,--made me look back upon my past
life, and brought to my recollection our mutual adventures while
prisoners among the Turcomans.
God is all-powerful and all-merciful, said he. Our destinies are
written in the book, and therefore what is there left, but to submit?
But I am a Persian, exclaimed I (a new thought having crossed my
mind), as well as a Mussulman; why, therefore, should I submit to
injustice from a Turk? We are, after all, a nation, and have had our
Jinghizs, our Timours, and our Nadirs, who made our name respected
throughout the world, and who burnt the fathers of the Turks wherever
they could find them. I will seek our ambassador, and, if he be a man,
he will insist upon justice being done me. Yes, yes! the ambassador
shall get back my wife; (oh, lucky thought!) and then we shall see who
will take her from me again.
So elated was I by this idea, that I did not stop to hear what Osman
might have to say on the subject, but immediately sallied forth, full of
fresh spirits and vigour, to seek out the representative of our King
of Kings, who, at the best of all fortunate hours, had very recently
arrived on a mission to the Sublime Porte.
[Illustration: Hajji relates his story to Mirza Firouz. 39.jpg]