CHAPTER XV.

But soft!--what heavenly shape appears,

Shedding pale lustre like the moon?

Some angel’s form the vision wears;

Sweet maid! that angel form’s thy own.

SADI.

The papers which Fazeel intrusted to Kazim, for the purpose of being

duly arranged and copied, were necessarily of great extent, as they

embraced copious reports upon the actual condition of almost every one

of the twenty-two provinces, then composing the empire of India. It

became the business of the new secretary, not only to transcribe the

voluminous mass with his own hand, but to digest it in a methodical

order, to divide it into sections, and render the whole easily

accessible by a summary of his own, which would enable the minister to

refer at once to any passages it might be necessary for him to peruse

in detail. The duty was one that employed Kazim very closely for three

or four years; it enabled him to become perfectly acquainted with the

whole resources of Acbar’s dominions.

The accurate knowledge which Kazim thus acquired, with reference to

the state of the provinces, he had great facility in making available,

whenever he was consulted upon the numerous memorials and reports

periodically sent up from those districts to Lahore. No decrees were

issued, with respect to the grievances or difficulties of which they

complained, without the co-operation of Kazim, who usually prepared the

first draughts of the necessary ordinances for the minister. Thus he

proceeded, step by step, to render his abilities and varied information

eminently useful in the most important department of government. His

suggestions were uniformly remarkable for their good sense, their

humanity, and, above all, their tendency towards the establishment of

the administration of justice upon a basis at once pure and economical.

Although the fortunes of Kazim were now so vastly improved, as compared

with that portion of his life which he had spent in his stall, he

never forgot those who employed him at that time. Many he advanced to

offices, that enabled them to acquire a decent competency; to others he

gave occupation upon estates, bestowed upon him by the emperor; while,

for those who were of a military disposition, he obtained appointments

in the armies, kept up by Acbar on a scale requisite to meet the

numerous insurrections that almost continually broke out in one quarter

or another of India.

When the emperor removed his court to Agra, which he named as the

metropolis of his empire, he, at the same time, constituted Kazim

his high treasurer, and assigned him a splendid residence at a short

distance from the palace, on the banks of the Jumna. The appointment

gave great satisfaction to the people, amongst whom the new minister

was universally beloved for his inflexible impartiality; his entire

freedom from that taint of corruption which had hitherto sullied many

of the most important public stations; and especially for that modest

and engaging demeanour, which he still preserved unchanged from what it

was before his elevation. The power he thus derived, from one of the

first dignities the sovereign could bestow, afforded him opportunities

of which he fully availed himself, in order to advance the interests

of science, literature, and the fine arts. He invited to Agra those

men who had most distinguished themselves throughout the country for

their intellectual accomplishments, and their skill in architecture,

sculpture, painting, and music. His house was the resort, not only

of the chief officers attached to the court, but also of poets,

historians, and eminent men of every class, to whom he felt it a sacred

duty to show the most cordial marks of his attention.

It was wonderful with what eagerness the manuscripts, which Kazim had

written in his stall, were now bought up on every side. The “Beggar

Ballads,” which had formerly drawn down the ridicule of the critics of

Lahore, were henceforth looked upon as so many gems, for which precious

stones of enormous price were gladly exchanged, by those who wished to

pay their court to the minister. He, who well knew the value of his

own productions, and was conscious that whatever his faculties were for

the cultivation of science and philosophy, they were never destined to

shine in the temple of the muses, accepted all the incense of these

panegyrists for just as much as it was worth. It did not prevent

him from rewarding real merit, even where he found it accompanied

by such fulsome adulation; but, on the other hand, he listened with

silent indifference to the compliments of those who hoped that mere

flattery would compensate for their want of worth. The incidents of

his life were made themes of eulogy and emulation in the very schools

which had shut their doors upon him at Lahore; and the origin of the

“adventurer,” as he was called some years ago, was now traced back to

the same sources which had given the reigning dynasty to Hindostan!

Kazim would have been more or less than man, if his breast were wholly

free from emotions of just pride, when he, who on his first arrival in

that country, scarcely knew where he might rest his head, now beheld

his halls thronged with guests of the most elevated rank, including,

occasionally, the Emperor, often the Prince Selim, the Omrahs, the

governors of the provinces, the principal warriors, and the heads of

every department of the government. Nevertheless, he confessed to

Mangeli, and she knew his acknowledgment to be true, that his happiest

moments were those which he spent in his private cabinet, assisting in

the education of their beloved daughter, upon whose growing charms they

gazed with new delight, from day to day.

The figure of Mher-Ul-Nissa, which, from its earliest developement,

seemed to have been chiselled by the hand of the statuary, assumed a

more radiant loveliness, as she approached the years of maturity. Her

hair, of a light golden hue, hung to the knee, when she untied the

fillet that held it together. Her liquid blue eyes, if fired by no

emotion, shone serenely, like the full orb of the moon, through the

long dark lashes by which they were surrounded. But the lightest smile

animated their lustre, diffusing over her finely pencilled brows a

beguiling expression, in which, however, playfulness was always mingled

with a peculiar dignity. An oval cheek, with a scarcely perceptible

shade of brown, which became ruby with every strong impulse of her

mind, a mouth exquisitely formed, a bosom that seemed to contain two

white rose-buds of Cashmere, just before they begin to blow, and

delicately tapered limbs that awakened life and light around them

wherever they moved, gave matchless splendour to her beauty.

Her varied accomplishments were in every way worthy of the external

graces with which she was endowed. The arts of embroidery and painting,

for which she evinced an early predilection, afforded an elegant

occupation to the hours not absorbed in more intellectual pursuits. She

inherited her father’s taste for fine literature; and was intimately

conversant with the best productions of Persia and Arabia. She was

initiated in the science of music by the first masters, whose lessons

she improved into inspirations, by the inventive powers which she

exhibited, whenever she touched the mandolin or lute. Her voice was

remarkable for its melody, but still more so for the enthusiastic tones

which it sometimes poured forth, as if her soul, borne away by a sudden

flood of feeling, emulated the strains of some world superior to her

own. When she danced, she looked an aerial being, as she moved over

the floor, which she scarcely seemed to touch. To these accomplishments

she added a point of character more endearing than them all, a

passionate attachment to those excellent parents, to whose affection

she was in a great measure indebted for the enviable blessings she

enjoyed.

Kazim, with difficulty, restrained himself from giving expression

to the pleasure which he experienced on every occasion, when

Mher-ul-Nissa, preceded by Mangeli, and followed by her Circassian

attendants, appeared before his guests. As the imperial court never

adhered to the strict rules of the Koran, which prohibit women from

mingling in the company of men, it was usual to introduce the ladies

into the banqueting-room as soon as the wine, which also refused at

Agra to acknowledge the law of the prophet, was succeeded by coffee.

Upon such occasions, however, the ladies were uniformly veiled, unless

the circle of visitors consisted exclusively of near relatives, or

very intimate friends. It may be doubted whether that appendage to the

dress did not tend rather to increase the curiosity and heighten the

admiration of the guest, when he beheld through it the blush of the

cheek and the sparkle of the eye, little, if at all, dimmed by the

gossamer cloud behind which they were supposed to be concealed. Certain

it is, that Kazim seldom gave a banquet which was not followed the next

day by boundless compliments upon the beauty of his daughter, and by

earnest enquiries as to the name of the fortunate nobleman for whom

she was destined. These questions, sometimes thrown out in an indirect

manner, sometimes pointed in a way difficult to be encountered, he

generally succeeded in evading on the ground of her youth, and her

being his only child. But the time was already approaching when he

found that it would become his duty, however reluctantly, to make up

his mind on a matter so essentially connected with the happiness of her

future life.

Amongst those of his guests whom Kazim, from the commencement of their

acquaintance, admitted to his bosom friendship, was Shere Afkun,

a Turcomanian chieftain, who was also held in great esteem by the

emperor. His original name was Asta Jillo; but having, by his great

personal strength, in which he was altogether unrivalled, slain a lion,

after a severe contest with the animal, he was thenceforth designated

Shere Afkun, or the overthrower of the lion, from that circumstance. He

had already distinguished himself by the side of his imperial master,

in many a hard-fought field. His fidelity had been tried more than

once, by the most brilliant offers on the part of those discontented

noblemen, who treated Acbar as an usurper, and did every thing in

their power to foment insurrection throughout the empire. Not only

wealth without limit, but the sceptre of Hindostan was suggested as a

temptation to the ambition of Afkun, if he would desert the standard

to which he had sworn allegiance. His ancestors, however, had always

been attached to the Mogul dynasty; he had pledged himself to it by

the “great oath,” and as he was a man of a truly upright mind and

unblemished honour, who would sooner give up his life than violate a

promise, he spurned all these seductions with a proud indignation,

which created for him, in the rebellious provinces, numerous enemies.

But to their hostility Afkun paid little regard. Firm in his own

purity of feeling, elevated by the noblest sentiments, far above the

sordid crowd, who were shaken in their allegiance by every rumour

of civil war with which the capital was inundated, and marked out by

the well-merited favour of Acbar, as one of the principal officers

of the empire, he pursued the path of his duty with a steadiness of

determination, that proved the sincerity of his character. He was a

remarkably fine looking young man, frank and engaging in his manners,

and of considerable intelligence, considering that from the moment he

was able to wield a sabre, his life had been chiefly spent in camps.

During the few hours which Kazim had the opportunity of devoting to

out-door recreation, Afkun was generally his companion. They rode

together into the country, or walked in the gardens behind Kazim’s

residence, conversing, without reserve on either side, upon affairs of

state, or upon subjects of a religious or philosophical kind, for which

Afkun, unlike most of his countrymen, had a decided turn.

Sometimes it happened, that in the course of their walks in those

charming retreats, they would observe Mangeli and Mher-Ul-Nissa

watering a flower-bed, or gathering fruit, or working at embroidery,

beneath the shade of a favourite plane-tree. Kazim was always

delighted to join the two dearest objects of his affection, and he

felt no disposition to prevent Afkun from following his example. The

presence of the young Turcomanian necessarily imposed some restraint

upon the demeanour of Mher-ul-Nissa. Her eyes were then fixed with

more than usual earnestness upon her tambour frame; her fingers seemed

to be animated with more than their ordinary grace, while they were

rapidly strewing roses wherever her fancy directed. If those eyes

sometimes glanced at the chieftain when he addressed his conversation

to her mother, it was an accidental circumstance--the result of natural

curiosity, to ascertain what the stranger looked like. But when it

happened that once or twice they directly flashed against his own,

and the conflict heightened the blush of health upon her cheek, and

unaccountably impeded the current of his speech, he began to think that

he would prefer the shade in which he sat, even to the unearthly bowers

promised by the founder of his religion.

Mangeli was the first to warn Kazim of the consequences of these

visits, unless he had already determined on the line of conduct which

he should adopt, in case Afkun should demand the hand of his daughter.

There was nothing in such a connexion to which either parent could

discover any objection. On the contrary, should the matter turn out in

that way, they were fully disposed to believe that it could only result

in the happiness of both parties. The Turcomanian was a nobleman of

distinguished birth, and ample possessions; he was deservedly esteemed

by the emperor, who had signified his intention of appointing Afkun

to the government of the first province which should become vacant.

Mher-Ul-Nissa was in every respect suited to the exalted station to

which such a union would raise her, and although there were those who

whispered into her ear, that she might, if she were ambitious, look

forward to a rank still higher--the first in the empire, when Selim

should succeed to the throne; nevertheless the thoughtful parents

perfectly agreed that that was a wild dream, which she ought not to

entertain for a moment, and which, if it could be realized, would lead

only to her unhappiness, perhaps her ruin.

When the maid was questioned playfully by her mother, as to the

attentions of the prince Selim, which rumour had already invented or

exaggerated, she could really find nothing in them. They were no more

than he had paid to a thousand others. When, after dining with Kazim,

he was heated with wine, it appeared that he always waited to see the

ladies, and fixed his eyes incessantly on Mher-Ul-Nissa, to whom he

had once presented a bouquet of variegated flowers, which, translated

into language, imported that he was her slave, or something to that

effect. But it was well known that his attachments were as transitory

as they were violent, and that, although his station allowed him

already to have several wives, he seemed to treat them all with equal

indifference. It was scarcely to be expected, that the heir apparent

of the empire of Hindostan could ever fix his affections upon a single

object, and that was in itself an objection with Mher-Ul-Nissa, as well

as with Mangeli, of an irremovable character.

Perhaps if the secret wishes of the daughter were revealed to the

mother, it might have been discovered that the former had been more

flattered by the bouquet presented to her by Selim, than she chose to

acknowledge even to herself. It was the first gift of the kind she had

ever received; it was the earliest token of homage from the lordly sex,

that had been laid at her feet. If, in the visions that then began to

interrupt the sweet sleep to which she had been previously accustomed,

the image of the prince more than once appeared,--inviting her to sit

beside him on the throne of the most splendid empire in the world,--it

was still no more than a delusion of the night, though it left a

feverish train of thought behind it, that too often recurred to her

during the gentle occupations of the succeeding day.

Nourmahal, an Oriental romance. Vol. 1 of 3 · 第 15 / 21 章