overdrawn did he consider it; he felt, nevertheless, a secret pleasure
for which he could not account. "But, my mother," said he, "are the
questions which the king's daughter proposes so difficult of solution
that it is impossible to reply to them to the satisfaction of the
lawyers who are judges? For my part, I cannot help thinking that the
princes who were not able to penetrate the meaning of her questions,
must have been persons of very little ingenuity, if not absolutely
ignorant."
"No, no!" replied the widow. "There is no enigma more obscure than the
questions of the princess, and it is almost impossible to reply to
them."
Whilst they were conversing thus of Tourandocte and her lovers, the
girl arrived from the market loaded with provisions. Khalaf sat down
to a table which the widow had prepared, and ate like a man famishing
with hunger. Whilst thus engaged the night drew on, and they heard
shortly in the town the gong of justice. The prince asked what the
noise meant. "It is to give notice to the people," replied the widow,
"that some person is going to be executed; and the unfortunate victim
about to be immolated is the prince of whom I told you, and who is to
be executed to-night for not being able to answer the princess's
questions. It is customary to punish the guilty during the day, but
this is an exceptional case. The king, who in his heart abhors the
punishment which he causes to be inflicted upon the lovers of his
daughter, will not suffer the sun to be witness of such a cruel
action."
The son of Timurtasch had a wish to see this execution, the cause of
which appeared so singular to him. He went out of the house, and
meeting a crowd of Chinese in the street animated by the same
curiosity, he mixed with them, and went to the court-yard of the
palace, where the tragic scene was to be enacted. He beheld in the
middle of the yard a _schebt-cheraghe_, in other words a very high
wooden tower, the outside of which, from the top to the bottom, was
covered with branches of cypress, amongst which a prodigious quantity
of lamps, tastefully arranged, spread a brilliant light around, and
illuminated the whole court-yard. Fifteen cubits from the tower a
scaffold was raised, covered with white satin, and around the scaffold
were arranged several pavilions of taffetas of the same colour open
towards the scaffold. Behind these two thousand soldiers of the guard
of Altoun-Khan were stationed, with drawn swords and axes in their
hands, forming a double rank, which served as a barrier against the
people. Khalaf was looking with deep attention at all that presented
itself to his view, when suddenly the mournful ceremony commenced. It
was ushered in by a confused noise of drums and bells, which proceeded
from the town, and could be heard at a great distance. At the same
moment twenty mandarins and as many judges, all dressed in long robes
of white woollen cloth, emerged from the palace, advanced towards the
scaffold, and after walking three times around it, took their places
under the pavilions.
Next came the victim, crowned with flowers interwoven with cypress
leaves, and with a blue fillet round his head,--not a red one, such as
criminals condemned by justice wear. He was a young prince, who had
scarcely reached his eighteenth year; he was accompanied by a mandarin
leading him by the hand, and followed by the executioner. The three
ascended the scaffold; instantly the noise of the drums and bells
ceased. The mandarin then addressed the prince in a tone so loud that
he was heard by nearly the whole concourse of people. "Prince," said
he, "is it not true that you were apprised of the terms of the king's
edict before you presented yourself to ask the princess in marriage?
Is it not also true that the king himself used all his endeavours to
dissuade you from your rash resolution?" The prince, having replied in
the affirmative, "Acknowledge, then," continued the mandarin, "that it
is by your own fault that you lose your life to-day, and that the king
and princess are not guilty of your death."
"I pardon them," returned the prince; "I impute my death to myself
alone, and I pray Heaven not to require of them my blood which is
about to be shed."
He had scarcely finished these words, when the executioner swept off
his head with one stroke of the sword. The air instantly resounded
with the noise of the drums and the bells. Then twelve mandarins took
up the body, laid it in a coffin of ivory and ebony, and placed it
upon a litter, which six of them bore away upon their shoulders into
the gardens of Serail. Here they deposited it under a dome of white
marble, which the king had ordered to be erected purposely to be the
resting-place of all those unfortunate princes who should share the
same fate. He often retired there to weep upon the tombs of those who
were buried within it, and tried, by honouring their ashes with his
tears, in some measure to atone for the barbarity of his child. As
soon as the mandarins had carried away the body of the prince who had
just suffered, the people and all the councillors retired to their
homes, blaming the king for having had the imprudence to sanction
such barbarity by an oath that he could not break. Khalaf remained in
the court-yard of the palace in a state of bewilderment; he noticed a
man near him weeping bitterly; he guessed that it was some person who
was deeply interested in the execution that had just taken place, and
wishing to know more about it, addressed him in these words:
"I am deeply moved," said he, "by the lively grief you exhibit, and I
sympathize in your troubles, for I cannot doubt that you were
intimately acquainted with the prince who has just suffered."
"Ah! sir," replied the mourner, with a fresh outburst of grief, "I
ought indeed to know him, for I was his tutor. O unhappy king of
Samarcand!" added he, "what will be thy grief when thou shalt be told
of the extraordinary death of thy son? and who shall dare to carry
thee the news?"
Khalaf asked by what means the prince of Samarcand had become
enamoured of the princess of China. "I will tell you," replied the
tutor: "and you will doubtless be astonished at the recital I am about
to make. The prince of Samarcand," pursued he, "lived happily at his
father's court. The court looked upon him as a prince who would one
day be their sovereign, and they studied to please him as much as the
king himself. He usually passed the day in hunting and playing at
ball, and at night he assembled secretly in his apartments the
distinguished youth of the court, with whom he drank all sorts of
liquors. He sometimes amused himself by seeing the beautiful slaves
dance, or by listening to music and singing. In a word, his life was
passed in a constant round of pleasure.
"One day a famous painter arrived at Samarcand with several portraits
of princesses which he had painted in the different courts through
which he had passed. He showed them to my prince, who, looking at the
first he presented, said, 'These are very beautiful pictures; I am
certain that the originals are under a deep obligation to you.'
"'My lord,' replied the artist, 'I confess that in these portraits I
have somewhat flattered the sitters; but I crave permission to tell
you that I have one far more beautiful than these, which does not
approach the original.' Saying this, he drew from the case which
contained his portraits that of the princess of China.
"Scarcely had my master looked at it, when not conceiving that nature
was capable of producing so perfect a beauty, he exclaimed that there
was not in the world a woman of such exquisite loveliness, and that
the portrait of the princess of China was more flattering than the
others. The artist protested that it was not, and assured him that no
pencil could convey an idea of the grace and beauty which shone in the
countenance of the princess Tourandocte. Upon this assurance my master
bought the portrait, which made so deep an impression on him, that,
leaving the court of his father, he quitted Samarcand, accompanied by
me alone, and without informing any one of his intentions, took the
road for China, and came to this city. He volunteered to serve
Altoun-Khan against his enemies, and asked the hand of his daughter
the princess. We were apprized of the severe edict connected with the
proposal, but alas! my prince, instead of being dismayed by the
severity of the conditions, conceived the liveliest joy. 'I will go,'
said he, 'and present myself to answer the questions of Tourandocte; I
am not deficient in talent or ready wit, and I shall obtain the hand
of the princess.'
"It is needless to tell you the rest, sir," continued the tutor,
sobbing; "you may judge by the mournful spectacle you have beheld that
the unfortunate prince of Samarcand was unable to answer, as he hoped,
the fatal questions of this barbarous beauty, whose delight is to shed
blood, and who has already been the means of sacrificing the lives of
several kings' sons. A few moments before his death he gave me the
portrait of this cruel princess. 'I entrust,' said he, 'this portrait
to thee; guard carefully the precious deposit. Thou hast but to show
it to my father when thou informest him of my sad fate, and I doubt
not that when he beholds so beautiful a face, he will pardon my
temerity.' But," added the old man, "let any one else who pleases
carry the sad news to the king his father; for my part, borne down by
the weight of my affliction, I will go far from hence and Samarcand,
and mourn for my beloved charge. This is what you wished to know; and
here is the dangerous portrait," pursued he, taking it from beneath
his cloak and throwing it on the ground in a paroxysm of rage; "behold
the cause of the sad fate of my prince. O execrable portrait! why had
my master not my eyes when he took thee into his hands? O inhuman
princess! may all the princes of the earth entertain for thee the same
sentiments as those with which thou hast inspired me! Instead of being
the object of their love, thou wouldest then be their aversion."
Saying this, the tutor of the prince of Samarcand retired full of
rage, regarding the palace with a furious eye and without speaking
another word to the son of Timurtasch. The latter quickly picked up
the portrait of Tourandocte, and turned to retrace his steps to the
house of the widow; but he missed his way in the darkness, and
wandered heedlessly out of the city. He impatiently awaited the
daylight to enable him to contemplate the beauty of the princess of
China. As soon as the approach of dawn furnished him with sufficient
light to satisfy his curiosity, he opened the case which contained the
portrait.
Still he hesitated before he looked at it. "What am I about to do?"
cried he; "ought I to disclose to my eyes so dangerous an object?
Think, Khalaf, think of the direful effects it has caused; hast thou
already forgotten what the tutor of the prince of Samarcand has just
narrated to thee? Look not on this portrait; resist the impulse which
urges thee, it is nothing more than a feeling of idle curiosity.
Whilst thou retainest thy reason thou canst prevent thy destruction.
But what do I say? prevent," added he, checking himself; "with what
false reasoning does my timid prudence inspire me. If I am to love the
princess, is not my love already written in indelible characters in
the book of fate. Besides, I think that it is possible to look upon
the most beautiful portrait with impunity; one must be weak, indeed,
to be influenced by the sight of a vain array of colours. Never fear;
let us scan these surpassing and murderous features without emotion. I
will even find defects, and taste the pleasure of criticizing the
charms of this too beautiful princess; and I could wish, in order to
mortify her vanity, that she might learn that I have looked upon her
portrait without emotion."
The son of Timurtasch had fully made up his mind to look upon the
portrait of Tourandocte with an indifferent eye. He now casts his eyes
on it, he regards it attentively, examines it, admires the contour of
the countenance, the regularity of the features, the vivacity of the
eyes,--the mouth, the nose, all appear perfect; he is surprised at so
rare a combination of perfect features, and although still on his
guard, he allows himself to be charmed. An inconceivable uneasiness
takes possession of him in spite of himself; he can no longer
understand his feelings. "What fire," said he, "has suddenly kindled
itself in my bosom! What tumult has this portrait produced in my
thoughts! Merciful Heaven, is it the lot of all those who look upon
this portrait to become enamoured of this inhuman princess? Alas! I
feel but too surely that she has made the same impression upon me, as
she did upon the unhappy prince of Samarcand; I yield to the charms
that wounded him, and far from being terrified by his melancholy fate,
I could almost envy his very misfortune. What a change, gracious
Heaven! I could not conceive a short time ago, how one could be mad
enough to despise the severity of the edict, and now I see nothing
that frightens me, all the danger has vanished.
"No! incomparable princess," pursued he, devouring the portrait with
an enamoured gaze, "no obstacle can stop me, I love you spite of your
barbarity; and since it is permitted to me to aspire to your
possession, from this day I will strive to win you; if I perish in the
bold attempt, I shall only feel in dying the grief of not being able
to possess you."
Khalaf, having formed the resolve of demanding the hand of the
princess, returned to the widow's house, a journey which cost him no
little trouble, for he had rambled to some considerable distance
during the night. "Ah! my son," exclaimed his hostess, as soon as she
beheld him, "I am so glad to see you, I was very uneasy about you, I
feared some accident had befallen you; why did you not return
earlier?"
"My good mother," replied he, "I am sorry to have caused you any
uneasiness, I missed my way in the darkness." He then related to her
how he had met the tutor of the prince whom they had put to death, and
did not fail to repeat to her all that he had told him. Then showing
her the portrait of Tourandocte; "Tell me," said he, "if this portrait
is only an imperfect likeness of the princess of China; for my part, I
cannot conceive that it is not equal to the original."
"By the soul of the prophet Jacmouny," cried the widow, after she had
examined the portrait, "the princess is a thousand times more
beautiful, and infinitely more charming than she is here represented.
I wish you could see her, you would be of my opinion, that all the
artists in the world who should undertake to paint her as she really
is, could never succeed. I will not even make an exception in favour
of the famous Many."
"You delight me above measure," replied the prince of the Nagaeis, "by
assuring me that the beauty of Tourandocte surpasses all the efforts
of the artist's power. How flattering the assurance! It strengthens me
in my determination, and incites me to attempt at once the brilliant
adventure. Oh that I were before the princess! I burn with impatience
to try whether I shall be more fortunate than the prince of
Samarcand."
"What do you say, my son?" eagerly asked the widow, "what enterprise
are you so rashly planning? And do you seriously think of carrying it
into effect?"
"Yes, my good mother," returned Khalaf, "I intend this very day to
present myself to answer the questions of the princess. I came to
China only with the intention of offering my services to the great
king, Altoun-Khan, but it is better to be his son-in-law than an
officer in his army."
At these words the widow burst into tears. "Ah! sir, in the name of
Heaven do not persist in so rash a resolution; you will certainly
perish if you are bold enough to aspire to the hand of the princess;
instead of allowing her beauty to charm you, let it be the object of
your detestation, since it has been the cause of so many frightful
tragedies; picture to yourself what the grief of your parents will be
when they hear of your death; let the thoughts of the mortal grief
into which you will plunge them deter you."
"For pity's sake, my mother," interrupted the son of Timurtasch,
"cease to present to my mind such affecting images. I cannot be
ignorant, that if it be my destiny to die this day, my sad end will be
a source of bitter and inexhaustible grief to my beloved parents; nay,
I can conceive their misery being so excessive as to endanger their
own lives, for well do I know their extreme affection for me;
notwithstanding all this, however, notwithstanding the gratitude with
which their love ought to inspire, and indeed does inspire me, I must
yield to the passion that consumes me. But, what! Is it not in hopes
of making them more happy that I am about to expose my life? Yes,
doubtless, their interest is bound up with the desire that urges me
on, and I feel sure that if my father were here, far from opposing my
design, he would rather excite me to its speedy execution. My
resolution is taken; waste no more time in trying to dissuade me;
nothing shall shake my determination."
When the widow found that her young guest would not heed her advice,
her grief increased. "So it must be, then, sir," continued she; "you
will not be restrained from rushing headlong on your destruction. Why
was it ordained that you should come to lodge in my house? why did I
speak of Tourandocte? You became enamoured of her from the description
I gave of her; wretched woman that I am, it is I who have caused your
ruin; why must I reproach myself with your death?"
"No, my good mother," said the prince of the Nagaeis, interrupting her
a second time, "you are not the cause of my misfortune; do not blame
yourself because I love the princess; I am to love her, and do but
fulfil my destiny. Besides, how do you know that I shall not be able
to reply to her questions? I am not without understanding, and I have
studied much; and Heaven may have reserved for me the honour of
delivering the king of China from the grief with which his frightful
oath overwhelms him. But," added he, drawing out the purse which the
khan of Berlas had given him, and which still contained a considerable
quantity of gold pieces, "as my success is after all uncertain, and I
may chance to die, I make you a present of this purse to console you
for my death. You may sell my horse and keep the money, for it will be
of no more use to me, whether the daughter of Altoun-Khan become the
reward of my boldness, or my death be the mournful forfeit of my
audacity."
The widow took the purse from Khalaf, saying, "O my son, you are much
mistaken if you imagine that these pieces of gold will console me for
your loss. I will employ them in good works, I will distribute a
portion among the poor in the hospitals, who bear their afflictions
with patience, and whose prayers are consequently acceptable to
Heaven; the remainder I will give to the ministers of our religion,
that they all may pray together that Heaven may inspire you, and not
suffer you to perish. All the favour I ask you is, not to go to-day
and present yourself to answer the questions of Tourandocte; wait till
to-morrow, the time is not long; grant me that interval to enlist the
hearts of the pious in your behalf, and propitiate our Prophet in your
favour, after that you can do as you think best. I pray you to grant
me that favour; I am bold to say that you owe it to one who has
conceived so great a friendship for you, that she would be
inconsolable if you were to die."
Indeed Khalaf's appearance had made a favourable impression upon her,
for, besides being one of the handsomest princes in the world, his
manners were so easy and pleasing that it was impossible to see him
without loving him. He was moved by the grief and affection the good
lady exhibited. "Well, my mother," said he, "I will do as you desire
me; and I will not go to-day to ask the hand of the princess; but, to
speak my sentiments frankly, I don't believe that even your prophet
Jacmouny will be able to make me forego my determination."
The following morning, the prince appeared more determined than ever
to demand Tourandocte. "Adieu, my good mother," said he, to the widow.
"I am sorry that you have given yourself so much trouble on my
account; you might have spared it, for I assured you yesterday that I
should be of the same mind." With these words, he left the widow, who,
giving herself up to the deepest sorrow, covered her face with her
veil, and sat with her head on her knees, overwhelmed with
indescribable grief.
The young prince of the Nagaeis, perfumed with rare scents and more
beautiful than the moon, repaired to the palace. He found at the gate
five elephants, and, on each side, a line of two thousand soldiers,
with helmets on their heads, armed with shields, and covered with
plate armour. One of the principal officers in command of the troops,
judging from Khalaf's air that he was a stranger, stopped him, and
demanded his business at the palace.
"I am a foreign prince," replied the son of Timurtasch. "I am come to
present myself to the king, and pray him to grant me permission to
reply to the questions of the princess his daughter."
The officer, at these words, regarding him with astonishment, said to
him, "Prince, do you know that you come to seek death? You would have
done more wisely to have remained in your own country, than form the
design which brings you hither; retrace your steps, and do not flatter
yourself with the deceitful hope that you will obtain the hand of the
cruel Tourandocte. Although you may have studied until you have become
more learned in science than all the mandarins, you will never be able
to fathom the meaning of her ambiguous questions."
"Accept my heartfelt thanks," replied Khalaf; "but, believe me, I am
not come thus far to retreat."
"Go on to your certain death, then," returned the officer, in a tone
of chagrin, "since it is impossible to restrain you." At the same
moment, he allowed him to enter the palace, and then, turning towards
some other officers who had been listening to their conversation, he
said, "How handsome and well-grown this young prince is. It is a pity
he should die so early."
Khalaf traversed several saloons, and, at length, found himself in the
hall where the king was accustomed to give audience to his people. In
it was placed the steel throne of Cathay, made in the form of a
dragon, three cubits high; four lofty columns, of the same material,
supported above it a vast canopy of yellow satin, ornamented with
precious stones. Altoun-Khan, dressed in a caftan of gold brocade
upon a crimson ground, was seated on his throne, with an air of
gravity which was in admirable keeping with his long moustache and
ample beard. The monarch, after listening to some of his subjects,
cast his eyes by chance to where the prince of the Nagaeis stood
amongst the crowd; he saw, at once, by his noble bearing and splendid
dress, that he was not a man of common birth; he pointed out Khalaf to
one of his mandarins, and gave an order, in an undertone, to learn his
rank, and the reason of his visit to his court.
The mandarin approached the son of Timurtasch, and told him that the
king desired to know who he was, and whether he wished to make any
request of the king. "You may tell the king, your master," replied the
prince, "that I am the only son of a king, and that I am come to
endeavour to merit the honour of becoming his son-in-law."
Altoun-Khan no sooner learned the reply of the prince of the Nagaeis,
than he changed colour; his august countenance became pale as death,
he broke up the audience, and dismissed all the people; he then
descended from his throne, and, approaching Khalaf, "Rash young man,"
said he, "are you aware of the severity of my edict, and of the
miserable fate of those who have hitherto persisted in their desire to
obtain the hand of the princess my daughter?"
"Yes, my lord," replied the son of Timurtasch, "I know all the danger
I incur; my eyes have witnessed the just and severe punishment your
majesty inflicted upon the prince of Samarcand; but the deplorable end
of the audacious youths who have flattered themselves with the sweet,
though vain, hope of possessing the princess Tourandocte, only
stimulates the desire I have of deserving her."