Aiass raised himself from the earth, cast his eye with a look of
reproach towards heaven, and gave way to a burst of sorrow; then
bringing the strong energies of his mind to resistance, the ebullition
shortly subsided, and he bowed to the stroke with the fortitude of a
man who looks upon endurance as his province, and upon calamity as his
lot. During the whole of this melancholy day he did not quit the body.
His wife’s dying request was in his ears and in his memory--“Dig me a
grave in the wilderness,” and he resolved to comply with it. He passed
twelve lingering hours in a broiling sun, occasionally casting himself
under the palampore beside the corpse, close to which his infant slept
unconscious of its loss. His thirst became at length so excessive that
his throat and tongue swelled, and he began to apprehend suffocation.
His face was blistered and sore, his eyes inflamed, from the combined
effects of weeping, and the glare of an ardent sun upon the white sand
of the desert. Towards evening he was so overcome by his sufferings
that he laid him down to die. The infant cried for nutriment, but
he had none to give it. Taking the linen from his body, which was
saturated with perspiration, he put it to the babe’s mouth: this kept
it alive.
The tongue of Aiass had by this time enlarged to such an immense size
that he could not move it. The inflammation was so great that he was
unable to close his lips. Expecting death every moment, he pressed
still closer to his bosom the innocent pledge of conjugal affection,
when he was unexpectedly relieved by the cracking of his swollen
tongue. A copious discharge of blood followed, which passed into his
stomach, and somewhat assuaged the fever that burned within him. He was
so much relieved by this effort of nature, that he almost immediately
sank into a short but refreshing slumber.
The sun had gone down in brightness; and when he awoke, the stars were
looking upon him from their thrones of light, and the whole heavens
smiling above him in their beauty. The intense, calm azure of the sky
seemed an emblem of the repose that dwells there. A gentle breeze
had broken the oppressive stagnation of the air, and fanned his hot,
blistered features as with an angel’s wing. His energies revived.
Though the thirst by which he was still parched affected him greatly,
still it was in some degree mitigated by that balmy breath of heaven,
which he felt now for the first time since he had entered upon the
desert. He commenced his melancholy task of digging a grave to enclose
the remains of an object who had been dearer to him than his own life.
He took his crease--a short dagger with a wide double-edged blade,--and
began to remove the sand. It was an arduous and sorrowful labour. After
an earnest application of mind and body for two hours, he succeeded in
sinking a hole four feet deep. Into this he tenderly lowered the body
of his departed wife, filled up the pit, and throwing himself upon
it, lay there until morning. There was a discharge of blood from his
tongue once or twice during the night, which more than probably saved
his life.
Towards dawn he fell into a deep and death-like sleep. He was at
length awaked by feeling himself severely shaken. Upon looking up, he
perceived himself to be surrounded by strangers. They were travellers
on their way to Lahore. They gave him food and water; the infant was
fed with goat’s milk by means of a sponge. His strength being now
somewhat recruited, he joined the travellers, and advanced with them by
easy stages to their destination.
Lahore was the field in which the Tartar’s talents soon displayed
themselves. Aiass was no ordinary man. He attracted the notice of the
Emperor Akbar, who had a singular faculty in discriminating merit, and
from that moment rose to distinction. Akbar perceived his value, and
made it available to promote the interests of his empire. The Tartar
advanced by a regular but rapid progression until he became high
treasurer of the state. He was a chief political organ of one of the
wisest sovereigns which history celebrates, and held in great respect
by the whole nation. The Emperor reposed implicit confidence in him: it
was well deserved, and ended only with his life.
The daughter of Aiass, who had been so providentially preserved in
the desert, as she grew up, excelled in personal attractions all the
loveliest women of the East, and was therefore honoured with the
designation of Mher-ul-Nissa: the Sun of Women. The extraordinary event
which had distinguished her birth seemed but as the prognostic of
future distinction. The child of the desert grew to be the perfection
of woman. The greatest care was taken to make her mistress of every
accomplishment which could impart additional fascination to the natural
graces of her sex. In vivacity, wit, spirit, and all those elegant
attainments in which women especially excel, she was unrivalled by few
and surpassed by none.
Of her it might have been almost said, without any assumption of the
licence of poetry--
“The force of Nature could no further go.”
In masculine vigour of understanding she stood alone and unapproached.
Her beauty was the theme of universal praise. Suitors from all quarters
sought her hand; but it was not easily won. Shere Afkun, a Turkoman
noble of distinction, at length presented himself; and to him she
was betrothed. The Mogul historians speak of Shere Afkun as the most
eminent person of his age, and much esteemed by the Emperor, who
never failed to bestow his favour upon brave men. The Turkoman was of
lofty stature, and no less remarkable for the beauty of his form and
features than for the rare qualities of his mind. He was universally
acknowledged to be every way worthy of the beautiful Mher-ul-Nissa, by
whose preference he felt equally flattered and delighted.