In the north-eastern parts of the vast peninsula of India, there did
exist a flourishing and extended kingdom, eminent for the beauty of the
country, the fertility of the soil, and the salubrity of the climate.
This kingdom was bounded on the east by a country named Lusitania, that
lies northerly towards the coast of Iceland, so called from the
excessive heat of the winter. On the south it was bounded by a slip of
land, the name of which has slipped my memory; but it runs into the seas
under the dominion of the great chain of Tartary. On the west it is
bounded by another kingdom, the name of which I have also forgotten; and
on the north by another kingdom, the name of which I do not remember.
After this explanation, with your sublime highness's knowledge, to which
that of the sage Lokman was but in comparison as the seed is to the
water-melon, I hardly need say that it was the ancient kingdom of
Souffra.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Menouni, you are quite right," observed the pacha. "Proceed."
"Fortunate is your slave to stand in the presence of so much wisdom,"
continued Menouni, "for I was in doubt; the splendour of your presence
had startled my memory, as the presence of the caravan doth the zebra
foal of the desert."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In this delightful kingdom, where the nightingales sang away their
existence in their love for the rose, and the roses gave forth their
perfume until the air was one continued essence of delight, such as is
inhaled by the true believers when they first approach the gates of
Paradise, and are enchanted by the beckoning of the houris from the
golden walls, there lived a beautiful Hindu princess, who walked in
loveliness, and whose smile was a decree to be happy to all on whom it
fell; yet for reasons which my tale shall tell, she had heard the
nightingale complain for eighteen summers and was still unmarried. In
this country, which at that time was peopled by Allah with infidels, to
render it fertile for the true believers, and to be their slaves upon
their arrival, which did occur some time after the occurrences which I
now relate; it was not the custom for the females of Souffra to lead the
life of invisibility, permitted only to those who administer to the
delights of the followers of the Koran; and although it was with
exceeding modesty of demeanour, still did they on great occasions expose
their charms to the public gaze, for which error, no doubt if they had
had souls, beautiful as they were, they would have been damned to all
eternity. Civilisation, as Menou hath said, must extend both far and
wide before other nations will be so polished as to imitate us in the
splendour, the security, and the happiness of our harems; and when I
further remark to your highness--
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Proceed, good Menouni," interrupted Mustapha, "his highness is not fond
of remarks."
"No, by our beard," rejoined the pacha; "it is for you to tell your
story and for me to make remarks when it is over."
"I stand in the presence of wisdom," said Menouni, who bowed low and
proceeded.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The beauteous Babe-hi-bobu, for such was the name of the princess, and
which in the language of the country implied "the cream-tart of
delight," was left queen of the Souffrarians by the death of her father;
and by his will, sworn to by all the grandees of the empire, she was
enjoined at twelve years of age to take to herself a husband; but it was
particularly expressed that the youth so favoured should be of the same
high caste as herself, and without _scar_ or _blemish_. When,
therefore, two years after her father's death, the beautiful
Babe-bi-bobu had attained the age of twelve years, swift runners on
foot, and speedy messengers mounted upon the fleetest dromedaries and
Arab horses of the purest race, were despatched through all the kingdom
of Souffra to make known the injunctions of the will; the news of which
at last flew to the adjacent kingdoms, and from them to all the corners
of the round world, and none were ignorant. In the kingdom of Souffra,
from which the choice was to be made, all the youth of caste were in a
state of fermentation, because they had a chance of obtaining the
honour; and all those of lower caste were in a state of fermentation, to
think they had no chance of obtaining such an honour; and all the women
of high caste, or low caste, or no caste, were all in a state of
fermentation, because--because--
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Because they always are so," interrupted the pacha. "Proceed,
Menouni."
"I thank your sublime highness for having relieved me in my case of
difficulty; for who can give reasons for the conduct of women?"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is sufficient to say that the whole country was in a state of
fermentation, arising from hope, despair, jealousy, envy, curiosity,
surmising, wondering, doubting, believing, disbelieving, hearing,
narrating, chattering, interrupting, and many other causes too tedious
to mention. At the first intelligence every Souffrarian youth
new-strung his mandolin, and thought himself sure to be the happy man.
Hope was triumphant through the land, roses advanced to double their
price; the attar was adulterated to meet the exorbitant demand, and
nightingales were almost worshipped; but this could not last. Doubt
succeeded to the empire of hope, when reflection pointed out to them,
that out of three millions of very eligible youths, only one could be
made happy. But when the counsellors are so many, the decision is but
slow; and so numerous were the meetings, the canvassings, the debates,
the discussions, the harangues, and the variety of objections raised by
the grandees of the country, that at the age of eighteen the beauteous
bird of paradise, still unmated, warbled her virgin strain in the
loneliness of the royal groves.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"But why," interrupted the pacha, "why did they not marry her, when
there were three millions of young men ready to take her? I can't
understand the cause of six years' delay."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The reason, most sublime, was, that the grandees of Souffra were not
endowed with your resplendent wisdom, or the beautiful Babe-bi-bobu had
not so long languished for a husband. All this delay was produced by
doubt, which the poets truly declare to be the father of delay. It was
a doubt which arose in the mind of one of the Brahmins, who, when a
doubt arose in his mind, would mumble it over and over, but never
masticate, swallow, or digest it; and thus was the preservation of the
royal line endangered. For years had the aspirants for regal dignity,
and more than regal beauty, hovered round the court, each with his
mandolin on his arm, and a huge packet of love-sonnets borne behind him
by a slave, and yet all was doubt; and the beautiful Princess
Babe-bi-bobu remained unmarried.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I doubt whether we shall ever come to the doubt," interrupted the pacha
impatiently, "or the princess to a husband."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The doubt shall now be laid at your excellency's feet. It was, as to
the exact meaning of the words, without _scar_ or _blemish_, and whether
_moles_ were to be considered as _scars_ or _blemishes_. The Brahmin
was of opinion that moles _were_ blemishes, and many others agreed with
him; that is, all those who had no moles on their persons were of his
opinion; while, on the other hand, those who were favoured by nature
with those distinguishing marks, declared that so far from their _being_
scars or blemishes, they must be considered as additional beauties
granted by Heaven to those most favoured. The dispute ran high, and the
beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu remained unmarried. This great question
was at last very properly referred to the mufti; these sages handled it,
and turned it, and twisted it, added to it, multiplied it, subtracted
from it, and divided it, debated it fasting, debated it on a full
stomach, nodded over it, dreamt on it, slept on it, woke up with it,
analysed it, criticised it, and wrote forty-eight folio volumes, of
which twenty-four were advocates of, and twenty-four opponents to the
question; the only conclusion which they could come to at last was, that
_moles_ were _moles_: and the beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu remained
unmarried.
The question was then taken up by the dervishes and fakirs of the
country in a religious point of view; they split into two parties, tried
the question by a dispute under a banyan tree, which lasted eighteen
months, and still not half of the holy men had given their sentiments
upon the question; tired of talking, they proceeded to blows, and then
to anathematisation and excommunication of each other; lastly, they had
recourse to impalement to convince each other; more than a thousand
perished on each side; and still the beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu
remained unmarried.
The colleges and schools of the kingdom took up the question, and argued
it metaphysically, and after having irrecoverably lost, between the two
sides, twenty-two millions of threads of arguments, the question was as
fresh as ever, and the beautiful princess Babe-bi-bobu remained
unmarried.
But this was not all; for at last the whole nation joined in the
quarrel, splitting into violent and angry factions, which divided town
against town, inhabitants against inhabitants, house against house,
family against family, husband against wife, father against son, brother
against sister; and in some cases, where he had doubts on both sides, a
man against himself. The whole nation flew to arms, distinguishing
themselves as Molists and Anti-molists; four hundred insurrections, and
four civil wars, were the consequence; and what was a worse consequence,
the beautiful Princess Babe-bi-bobu remained unmarried. Your sublime
highness must allow that it was a very nice question--
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What is your opinion, Mustapha?" demanded the pacha.
"Is your slave to speak? Then I would say, that it was absurd to make
such a mountain of a mole-hill."
"Very true, Mustapha. This princess will never be married; so proceed,
good Menouni."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I should observe to your sublime highness, that the Molists were the
strongest party, and the most arrogant; not content with wearing the
marks of nature, they stuck upon their faces fictitious moles of every
hue and colour, and the most violent partisans appeared as if they were
suffering from some cutaneous disorder. It was also a singular
circumstance, that no Molist was ever known to change sides, whereas,
after bathing, many of the Anti-molists were found most shamefully to
apostatise. Every thing was disastrous, and the country in a state of
anarchy and confusion, when the question was most fortunately settled by
the remark of a little slave about twelve years old, who was regularly
flogged by his master every morning that he got up, upon a suspicion of
Molism, and as regularly every evening by his mistress, on a second
suspicion of Anti-molism. This poor little fellow whispered to another
boy, that moles were blemishes or not, just as people happened to think
them, but, as for his part, he thought nothing about the matter. The
espionage at that time was so strict, that even a whisper was to be
heard at the distance of miles, and this observation was reported; it
certainly was new because it was neutral, when neutrality was not
permitted or thought of; it was buzzed about; the remark was declared
wonderful, it ran like wildfire through the suburbs, it roared through
the city, it shook the very gates of the palace; at last it reached the
holy in divan, who pronounced it to be inspiration from the Deity, and
immediately there was issued a solemn edict, in which it was laid down
as a most positive and important article of Souffrarian faith, that
moles were not scars, and only blemishes when they were considered so to
be. Every one praised the wisdom of this edict; it was read and
subscribed to as an article of faith; towns greeted towns, house
congratulated house, and relations shook hands; what was still stranger
was, husbands and wives were reconciled--and what was even more
delightful, there was now some chance of the beautiful Princess
Babe-bi-bobu no longer remaining unmarried.
This fortunate edict, by which it was clear that those who believed a
mole to be a blemish were quite safe, and who did not believe it, were
in no manner of danger, set every thing to rights; the metropolis was
again filled with aspirants, the air tortured with the music of the
mandolins, and impregnated with the attar of roses. Who can attempt to
describe the sumptuousness of the palace, and the splendour of the ball
in which the beautiful princess sat, to receive the homage of the flower
of the youth of her kingdom. Soothingly soft, sweetly, lovingly soft,
were the dulcet notes of the warbling asparas, or singing girls, now
ebbing, now flowing in tender gushes of melody, while down the sides of
the elegant and highly pillared hall, now advancing, now retreating, the
dancing girls, each beautiful as Artee herself in her splendour, seemed
almost to demand, in their aggregate, that gaze of homage due only to
the peerless individual who at once burned and languished on her emerald
throne. Three days had the princess sat in that hall of delight, tired
and annoyed with the constant stream of the Souffra youths, who
prostrated themselves and passed on. The fourth morning dawned, and
none could say that either by gesture, sigh, or look, they had been
distinguished by even a shadow of preference. And the noble youths
communed in their despair, and murmured among themselves; many a foot
was stamped with unbecoming impatience, and many a moustache twisted
with a pretty indignation. The inhabitants of the capital blamed the
impetuosity of the youths; to say the least of it, if it were not
disloyal, it was ungallant; and what was worse, they showed no regard
for the welfare of the citizens, over whom they each aspired to reign as
sovereign, for they must be aware that now was the time that the
citizens, from such an influx of aspirants, were reaping a golden
harvest. And they added, with great truth, that a princess who had been
compelled to wait six years to satisfy the doubts of others, had a most
undeniable right to wait as many days to satisfy her own. On the fourth
day, the beautiful Babe-bi-bobu again took her seat on the golden
cushions, with her legs crossed, and her little feet hidden under the
folds of her loose, azure-coloured satin trousers, and it was supposed
that there was more brightness in her eyes, and more animation in her
countenance than on the previous days; but still the crowd passed on
unnoticed. Even the learned brahmins, who stood immovable in rows on
each side of her throne, became impatient: they talked about the
fickleness of the sex, the impossibility of inducing them to make up
their minds; they whispered wise saws and sayings from Ferdistan and
others, about the caprice of women, and the instability of their
natures, and the more their legs ached from such perpetual demand upon
their support, the more bitter did they become in their remarks. Poor,
prosing old fools! the beauteous princess had long made up her mind, and
had never swerved from it through the tedious six years during which the
doubts and discussions of those venerable old numskulls had embroiled
the whole nation in the Molean and Anti-molean controversy.
It was about the first hour after noon that the beautiful Babe-bi-bobu,
suddenly rising from her recumbent attitude, clapped her pretty little
hands, the fingers of which were beautifully tipped with henna, and
beckoning to her attendants, retired gracefully from the hall of
audience. The surprise and commotion was great, and what made her
conduct more particular was, that the only son of the chief brahmin who
had first raised the question, and headed the Anti-molist party, was at
the moment of the princess's departure, prostrate before the throne,
with his forehead, indeed, to the ground, but his bosom swelling high
with hope and ambition. Within a bower of orange trees, in the deep
recesses of the royal gardens, to which she had hastened, sat the
panting princess. She selected some flowers from those which were
scattered round her, and despatched them to her favourite musician and
attendant, Acota. Who was there in the whole kingdom of Souffra who
could so sweetly touch the mandolin as Acota? Yet, who was there, not
only in Souffra, but in all the adjacent countries, who struck such
occasional discordant notes as Acota, and that in the ear of the
beautiful princess Babe-bi-bobu, who, far from being displeased,
appeared to approve of his occasional violence, which not only
threatened to crack the strings of the instrument, but the tympanums of
those who were near, who longed to escape, and leave the princess to
enjoy the dissonance alone, little thinking that the discord was raised
that their souls' harmony might be undisturbed by the presence of
others, and that the jarring of the strings was more than repaid to the
princess, by the subsequent music of Acota's voice.
Acota seated himself, at a signal from the princess, and commenced his
playing, if such it could be called, thrumming violently, and jarring
every chord of his instrument to a tone of such dissonance, that the
attendant girls put their fingers into their ears, and pitied the
beautiful Babe-bi-bobu's bad taste in music.
"Ah! Acota," said the princess, opening upon him all the tenderness of
her large and beaming eyes, "how weary am I of sitting on my cushion,
and seeing fop after fop, fool after fool, dawdle down upon their faces
before me; and, moreover, I am suffocated with perfumes. Strike your
mandolin again louder, beloved of my soul--still louder, that I may be
further relieved of this unwished-for crowd."
Thereupon, Acota seized his mandolin, and made such an unaccountable
confusion of false notes, such a horrid jarring, that all the birds
within one hundred yards shrieked as they fled, and the watchful old
chamberlain, who was always too near the princess, in her opinion, and
never near enough, in his own, cried out, "Yah--yah--baba senna, curses
on his mother, and his mandolin into the bargain!" as his teeth
chattered; and he hastened away, as fast as his obesity would permit
him. The faithful damsels who surrounded the princess could neither
stand it nor sit it any longer--they were in agonies, all their teeth
were set on edge; and at last, when Acota, with one dreadful crash,
broke every string of his instrument, they broke loose from the reins of
duty, and fled in every direction of the garden, leaving the princess
and Acota alone.
"Beloved of my soul," said the princess, "I have at last invented a plan
by which our happiness will be secured!" and in a low tone of voice, but
without looking at each other, that they might not attract the
observation of the chamberlain, they sweetly communed. Acota listened a
few minutes to the soft voice of the princess, and then took up his
broken-stringed mandolin, and with a profound reverence for the benefit
of the old chamberlain, he departed.
In the mean time, a rumour was spread abroad that at sunset a public
examination of all the candidates was to take place on the bank of the
rapid-flowing river, which ran through a spacious meadow near to the
city, in order to reject those candidates who might prove, by any _scar_
or _blemish_, not to come expressly within the meaning of the old king's
will. Twelve old fakirs, and twenty-four mollahs with spectacles, were
appointed as examining officers. It was supposed, as this was a
religious ceremony, that all the females of Souffra, who were remarkable
for their piety, would not fail to attend--and all the world were eager
for the commencement of the examination. O then it was pleasant to see
the running, and mounting, and racing, among the young Souffrarian
rayahs, who were expected to be examined; and a stranger would have
thought that a sudden pestilence had entered the city, from the
thousands upon thousands who poured out from it, hastening to the river
side, to behold the ceremony. But to the astonishment of the people,
almost all the rayahs, as soon as they were mounted, left the city in an
opposite direction, some declaring, that they were most surely without
_scar_ or _blemish_, but still they could not consent to expose their
persons to the gaze of so many thousands; others declared that they left
on account of _scars and honourable wounds_ received in battle; and
until that afternoon, the Souffrarians were not aware of how much
modesty and how much courage they had to boast in their favoured land;
and many regretted, as they viewed the interminable line of gallant
young men depart, that the will of the late king should have made scars
received in battle to be a bar to advancement; but they were checked by
the brahmins, who told them that there was a holy and hidden mystery
contained in the injunction of the old king's will.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"By the beard of the Prophet, it takes a long time to get a husband for
this princess of yours, Menouni," observed the pacha with a yawn.
"Your sublime highness will not be surprised at it, when you consider
the conditions of the old king's will."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The examination was most strict, and even a small cut was sufficient to
render a young man ineligible; a corn was considered as a blemish--and a
young man even having been bled by a leech to save his life, lost him
all chance of the princess.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Pray may I ask, if a barber had cut the skin in shaving their heads,
was that considered as a scar?"
"Most decidedly, your highness."
"Then those fakirs and mollahs, with their spectacles, and the brahmins,
were a parcel of fools. Were they not Mustapha?"
"Your highness's wisdom is like the overflowing of the honey pot,"
replied Mustapha.
"You know, Mustapha, as well as I do, that it is almost impossible not
to draw blood, if there happens to be a pimple, or a bad razor; but,
however, proceed, Menouni, and if possible marry this beautiful
princess."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
About two hours before sunset the beautiful Babe-bi-bobu, "the cream
tart of delight," more splendidly dressed than before, again entered the
hall of audience, and found to her surprise, that there remained out of
the many thousands of young rayahs, not fifty who could pretend to the
honour of her hand and throne. Among them, no longer dressed as a
musician, but robed in the costume of his high caste, stood the
conscious and proud Acota; and, although his jewels might not have vied
with those worn by others who stood by him, yet the brightness of his
eyes more than compensated. Next to Acota stood Mezrimbi, the son of
the chief brahmin, and he, only, could be compared to Acota in personal
beauty; but his character was known--he was proud, overbearing, and
cruel. The beauteous Babe-bi-bobu feared him, for there was a clause in
her father's will, by which, if the first choice of the princess should
prove by any intermediate accident to be ineligible, his father, the
chief brahmin, was empowered to make a selection for the princess, and
his decision was to be equally inviolable. The beauteous eyes of the
princess first lighted upon the form of Mezrimbi, and she trembled, but
the proud bearing of Acota reassured her; and waving her hand as she
sat, she addressed the assembled youths as follows:--
"Faithful and gentle rayahs, impute it to no want of modesty that, for
once, I sink the graceful bashfulness of the virgin, and assume the more
forward deportment of the queen. When all appear to possess such merit,
how can I slight all but one by my decision? Let me rather leave it to
the immortal Vishnu to decide who is most worthy to reign over this our
kingdom of Souffra. Let Vishnu prompt you to read your destiny; I have
placed a flower in this unworthy bosom, which is shortly to call one of
you its lord. Name, then, the flower, and he who first shall name it,
let him be proclaimed the lawful king of Souffra. Take, then, your
instruments, noble rayahs, and to their sounds, in measured verse, pour
out the name of the hidden flower, and the reason for my choice. Thus
shall fate decide the question, and no one say that his merits have been
slighted."
Having finished her address, the beauteous princess let fall her veil,
and was silent. A shout of applause was followed by wild strummings and
tunings of mandolins, and occasional scratching of heads or turbans, to
remember all that Hafiz had ever written, or to aid their attempts at
improviso versification. Time flew on, and no one of the young rayahs
appeared inclined to begin. At last one stepped forward, and named the
rose, in a borrowed couplet. He was dismissed with a graceful wave of
the hand by the princess, and broke his mandolin in his vexation, as he
quitted the hall of audience. And thus did they continue, one after
another, to name flower after flower, and quit the hall of audience in
despair. Then might these beautiful youths, as they all stood before
the princess, be compared, themselves, to the most beauteous flowers,
strong rooted in their hopes, and basking in the sun of her presence;
and, as their hopes were cut off; what were they but the same flowers
severed from their stalks, and drooping before the sunny beams, now too
powerful to be borne, or loaded with the dew of tears, removed to fade
away unheeded? There were but few left, when Mezrimbi, who had, as he
thought, hit upon the right name, and who, watching the countenance of
Acota, which had an air of impatient indifference upon it, which induced
Mezrimbi to suppose that he had lighted upon the same idea, and might
forestall him, stepped forward with his mandolin. Mezrimbi was
considered one of the best poets in Souffra; in fact, he had every
talent, but not one virtue. He bent forward in an elegant attitude, and
sang as follows:--
"Who does the nightingale love? Alas! we
Know. She sings of her love in the silence of
Night, and never tells the name of her adored one.
"What are flowers but the language of love?
And does not the nightingale rest her breast
Upon the thorn as she pours out her plaintive notes?
"Take then out of thy bosom the sweet flower of May
Which is hidden there, emblematical of thy love,
And the pleasing pain that it has occasioned."
When Mezrimbi had finished the two first verses, the beauteous princess
started with fear that he had gained her secret, and it was with a
feeling of agony that she listened to the last; agony succeeded by a
flow of joy, at his not having been successful. Impatiently she waved
her hand, and as impatiently did Mezrimbi depart from her presence.
Acota then stepped forward, and after a prelude, the beauty of which
astonished all those around the queen's person, for they had no idea
that he could play in tune, sang in a clear melodious voice the
following stanzas:--
"Sweet, blushing cheek! the rose is there,
Thy breath, the fragrance of its bowers;
Lilies are on thy bosom fair,
And e'en thy very words seem flowers.
"But lily, rose, or flower, that blows
In India's garden, on thy breast
Must meet its death--by breathing sweets
Where it were ecstasy to rest.
"A blossom from a nettle ta'en.
Is in thy beauteous bosom bound,
Born amid stings, it gives no pain,
'Tis sweetness among venom found."
Acota was silent. The beauteous princess, as the minstrel finished,
rose slowly and tremulously from her cushions, and taking the blossom of
a nettle from her bosom, placed it in the hands of the happy Acota,
saying, with a great deal of piety, "It is the will of Heaven."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"But how was it possible for Acota to find out that the princess had a
nettle blossom in her bosom?" interrupted the pacha. "No man could ever
have guessed it. I can't make that out. Can you, Mustapha?"
"Your sublime highness is right; no man ever could have guessed such a
thing," replied Mustapha. "There is but one way to account for it,
which is, that the princess must have told him her intentions when they
were alone in the royal garden."
"Very true, Mustapha--well, thank Allah, the princess is married at
last."
"I beg pardon of your sublime highness, but the beauteous princess is
not yet married," said Menouni; "the story is not yet finished."
"Wallah el nebi!" exclaimed the pacha. "By God and his Prophet, is she
never to be married?"
"Yes, your sublime highness, but not just yet. Shall I proceed?"
"Yes, Menouni, and the faster you get on the better."
------------------------------------------------------------------------