I was born in Georgia, where, as your highness knows, the women are
reckoned to be more beautiful than in any other country, except indeed
Circassia; but, in my opinion, the Circassian women are much too tall,
and on too large a scale, to compete with us; and I may safely venture
my opinion, as I have had an opportunity of comparing many hundreds of
the finest specimens of both countries. My father and mother, although
not rich, were in easy circumstances; my father had been a janissary in
the sultan's immediate employ, and after he had collected some property,
he returned to his own country, where he purchased some land and
married. I had but one brother, who was three years older than myself,
and one of the handsomest youths in the country. He was disfigured a
little by a scarlet stain on his neck, somewhat in shape resembling a
bunch of grapes, and which our national dress would not permit him to
conceal. My father, intending that he should serve the sultan, brought
him up to a perfect knowledge of every martial exercise. Even at
fourteen years old, few could compete with him in the use of the bow,
and throwing the djireed, and as a horseman he was perfect. As for me,
I was, I am certain, intended for the sultan's seraglio, for as a child
I was beautiful as a houri. My father was a man who would not scruple
to part with his children for gold, provided he obtained his price. I
was considered, and I believe that I was, the most beautiful girl in the
country, and every care was taken that I should not injure my appearance
or hurt my complexion by domestic labour or exposure. I was not
permitted to assist my mother, who, induced by my father's orders,
waited upon me. I was indulged in every whim, and I grew up as selfish
and capricious as I was beautiful. Smile not, pacha--time has been.
One day, when I was about fourteen years old, I was sitting at the
porch, when a large body of Turkish cavalry suddenly made their
appearance from a wood close to the house, and surrounded it. They
evidently came for me, for they demanded me by name, threatening to burn
the house down to the ground, if I was not immediately delivered up.
Our house, which was situated near the confines of the country, had been
constructed for defence; and my father expecting assistance from his
neighbours, refused to acquiesce to their terms. The assault was made,
my father and mother, with all their household, were murdered, my
brother severely wounded, the house plundered and burnt to the outside
walls. I was of course a prisoner as well as my brother. He was tied,
wounded as he was, upon one horse, and I upon another, and in a few
hours the party had regained the frontiers. A young man, handsome as an
angel, was the leader of the band, and I soon perceived that all his
thoughts and attentions were directed to me. He watched me with the
greatest solicitude when we halted, procured me every comfort, and was
always hovering about my presence. From the discourse of the soldiers I
discovered that he was the only son of the grand vizier at Stamboul. He
had heard of my beauty, had seen me, and offered a large sum to my
father, who had refused, as his ambition was that I should belong to the
sultan--in consequence I had been carried off by force. I could have
loved the beautiful youth, although he had murdered my father and
mother, but it was the taking me by force which steeled my heart, and I
vowed that I never would listen to his addresses, although I was so
completely in his power. During the time that I had been in his
possession I had never spoken one word, and it came into my head that I
would pretend to be dumb. In three weeks we arrived at Constantinople.
Since I had quitted the country I had never seen my brother; his wound
was too severe to allow him to travel with the same rapidity, and it was
not until years afterwards that I knew what had become of him. I was
taken to Osman Ali's house, and allowed a few days repose from the
fatigue of the journey; after which, as I was still but a child, I was
ordered to be instructed in music, dancing, singing, and every other
accomplishment considered necessary for the ladies of a harem. But I
adhered to my resolution; every method to induce me to speak was tried
in vain; even blows, torture from pinching, and other means were
resorted to, but would not induce me to swerve from my resolution; at
last they concluded that I was either born dumb, or had become so from
fright at the time that the attack and slaughter of my family took
place. I was eighteen months in the harem of Osman Ali, and never spoke
one word.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mashallah! but this is wonderful!" exclaimed the pacha--"a woman hold
her tongue for eighteen months! Who is to believe this?"
"Not at all wonderful," replied the old woman, "when you recollect that
she was required to speak."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once, and once only, did I nearly break through my resolution. Two of
the principal favourites were conversing in my presence.
"I cannot imagine," said one, "what Ali can see in this little minx to
be so infatuated with her. She is very ugly--her mouth is large--her
teeth are yellow--and her eyes not only have no expression, but look
different ways. She has one shoulder higher than the other, and worse
than all, being dumb, cannot be taught any thing but dancing, which only
shows her ugly broad feet."
"That is all true," replied the other. "If I was Ali, I should employ
her as a common slave; she is fit for nothing but to roll up and beat
carpets, boil rice, and prepare our coffee. A little of the slipper on
her mouth would soon bring her to her senses."
I must own that I was near breaking through my resolution that I might
have indulged my revenge, and had not the door suddenly opened, I should
have proved to them, that I could have spoken to some purpose, for never
would I have ceased, until they had both been sewn up in sacks, and cast
into the Bosphorus. But I restrained myself, although my cheeks burned
with rage, and I more than once put my hand to my jewelled dagger.
I was often visited by Osman Ali, who in vain attempted to make me
speak; a harsh guttural sound was all which I would utter to express
pain or pleasure. At last, being convinced that I was dumb, he
exchanged me with a slave-merchant for a beautiful Circassian girl. He
did not state my supposed infirmity, but gave it as his reason for
parting with me, that I was too young, and required to be taught. As
soon as the bargain was struck, and the merchant had received the money
which had been given by Ali to effect the exchange, I was despoiled of
my dress and ornaments, and put in a litter, to be conveyed to the house
of the slave-merchant. As your highness may imagine, not a little tired
of holding my tongue for a year and a half--
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"By the beard of the Prophet, we can believe you on that point, good
woman. You may proceed."
"Yes, yes, I may proceed. You think women have no resolution, and no
souls--be it so--and what you dignify with the name of perseverance in
your own sex, you call obstinacy in ours. Be it so--time has been."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I was no sooner in the litter than I let loose my tongue, and called out
to the women who were appointed to conduct me to the door of the harem,
"Tell Osman Ali, that now I am no longer his slave, I have found my
tongue." Then closing the curtains, I was carried away. As soon as I
arrived, I told the merchant all that had passed, and the reason why Ali
had parted with me. The merchant, who was astonished at having made so
good a bargain, laughed heartily at my narrative. He told me that he
intended me for the seraglio of the sultan--flattered me by declaring
that I should be certainly the favourite, and advised me to profit all I
could by the masters he would provide. In the mean time, Osman Ali
having heard from the women the message I had sent, was very wroth, and
came to the slave-merchant to procure me again; but the slave-merchant
informed him that the kislar aga of the sultan had seen me, and ordered
me to be reserved for the imperial seraglio; by this falsehood screening
himself, not only from Ali's importunities, but also from his vengeance.
I took the advice of my master, and in a little more than a year became
a proficient in music and most other accomplishments; I also learnt to
write and read, and to repeat most of the verses of Hafiz, and other
celebrated poets. At seventeen I was offered to the kislar aga as a
prodigy of beauty and talent. The kislar aga came to see me, and was
astonished; he saw at once that I should immediately become first
favourite; and having heard me sing and play, he demanded my price,
which was enormous. He reported me to the sultan, stating that he had
never beheld such perfection, and at the same time informing him of the
exorbitant demand of the slave-merchant. The sultan, who had lately
felt little interest in the inmates of his harem, and was anxious for
novelty, ordered the sum to be paid, and I was conducted to the seraglio
in a royal litter.
That I was anxious to be purchased by the sultan I confess: my pride
rebelled at the idea of being a slave, and if I was to be so, at least I
wished to be the slave of the sultan. I indulged the idea that I should
soon bring him to subjection, and that the slave would lord it over her
master, and that master the dispenser of life and death, honour and
disgrace, to millions. I had made up my mind how to behave; the poets I
had read had taught me but too well. Convinced that a little wilfulness
would, from its novelty, be most likely to captivate one who had been
accustomed to dull and passive obedience, I allowed my natural temper to
be unchecked. The second day after my arrival, the kislar aga informed
me that the sultan intended to honour me with a visit, and that the
baths and dresses were prepared. I replied that I had bathed that
morning, and did not intend to bathe again--as for the dresses and
jewels, I did not require them, and that I was ready to receive my lord,
the sultan, if he pleased to come. The kislar aga opened his eyes with
astonishment at my presumption; but not venturing to use force to one
who, in his opinion, would become the favourite, he returned to the
sultan, reporting to him what had passed. The sultan, as I expected,
was more amused at the novelty than affronted at the want of respect.
"Be it so," replied he, "this Georgian must have a good opinion of her
own charms."
In the evening the sultan made his appearance, and I prostrated myself
at his feet, for I did not wish to proceed too far at once. He raised
me up, and appeared delighted.
"You were right, Zara," said he, "no jewels or dress could add to the
splendour of your beauty."
"Pardon me, O gracious lord," replied I, "but if thy slave is to please
thee, may it be by her natural charms alone. If I have the honour to
continue in thy favour, let me adorn myself with those jewels which
ought to decorate the chosen of her master--but as a candidate I have
rejected them, for who knows but in a few days I may be deserted for one
more worthy of your preference?"
The sultan was delighted at my apology, and I certainly was pleased with
him. He was then about forty years of age, very handsome and well made;
but I was still more gratified to find that my conversation amused him
so much that he remained with me for many hours after his usual time for
retiring. This gave promise of an ascendancy which might survive
personal charms. But not to detain your highness, I will at once state,
the sultan soon thought but of me. Not only my personal attractions,
but my infinite variety, which appeared natural, but was generally
planned and sketched out previous to his visits, won so entirely upon
him, that so far from being tired, his passion, I may say his love, for
me was every day increased.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Well, it _may be_ all true," observed the pacha, looking at the
wrinkled and hideous object before him. "What do you say, Mustapha?"
"O pacha! we know not yet her history. The mother of your slave, as I
have heard from my father, was once most beautiful. She is still in our
harem, and _pooh_," said Mustapha, spitting, as if in abhorrence.
"Right, good vizier--right--recollect, pacha, what I have said. Time
has been." The pacha nodded and the old woman proceeded.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once sure of the sultan's affections, I indulged myself in greater
liberties--not with him, but with others; for I knew that he would laugh
at the tricks I might play upon his dependants, but not be equally
pleased with a want of respect towards himself; and other people of the
harem were the objects of my caprice and amusement. So far from
preventing him from noticing the other women in the harem, I would
recommend them, and often have them in my apartments when he would visit
me, and wish to be alone. I generally contrived to manage a little
quarrel about once a month, as it renewed his passion. In short, the
sultan became, as I intended, so infatuated, that he was my slave, and
at the same time I felt an ardent attachment to him. My power was well
known. The presents which I received from those who required my good
offices were innumerable, and I never retained them, but sent them as
presents to the sultan, in return for those which he repeatedly sent to
me. This indifference on my part to what women are usually too fond of
increased his regard.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"By the holy Prophet, but you seemed fond enough of gold just now,"
observed the pacha.
"Time has been, replied the old woman. I speak not of the present."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
For two years I passed a happy life; but anxious as the sultan was, as
well as myself, that I should present him with an heir, that happiness
was denied me, and eventually was the cause of my ruin. The queen
mother, and the kislar aga, both of whom I had affronted, were
indefatigable in their attempts to undermine my power. The whole
universe, I may say, was ransacked for a new introduction into the
seraglio, whose novelty and beauty might seduce the sultan from my arms.
Instead of counterplotting, as I might have done, I was pleased at
their frustrated efforts. Had I demanded the woolly head of the one,
and poisoned the other, I had done wisely. I only wish I had them now--
but I was a fool--it cannot be helped--but time has been.
Like most of the sex, the ruling passion of the sultan was vanity, a
disease which shows itself in a thousand different shapes. He was
peculiarly proud of his person, and with reason, for it was faultless,
with one little exception, which I had discovered, a wen, about the size
of a pigeon's egg, under the left arm. I had never mentioned to him
that I was aware of it; but a circumstance occurred which annoyed me,
and I forgot my discretion.
The kislar aga had at last discovered a Circassian slave, who, he
thought, would effect the purpose. She was beautiful, and I had already
engrossed the sultan's attentions for more than two years. Men will be
fickle, and I expected no otherwise. What I required was the dominion
over the mind; I cared little about the sultan's attentions to other
women. Like the tamed bird which flies from its cage, and after
wandering a short time, is glad to return to its home and re-assume its
perch, so did I consider it would be the case with the sultan. I never,
therefore, wearied him with tears or reproaches, but won him back with
smiles and good-humour. I expected that this new face would detach him
for a short time, and for a fortnight he never came into my apartment.
He had never been away so long before, and I was rather uneasy. He
visited me one morning, and I asked him to sup with me. He consented,
and I invited three or four of the most beautiful women of the seraglio,
as well as the lady of his new attachment, to meet him. I thought it
wise so to do, to prove to him that I was not displeased, and trusting
that the Circassian might suffer when in company with others of equal
charms, who from neglect might reassume their novelty. The Circassian
was undeniably most beautiful; but, without vanity, she was by no means
to be compared to me; she had the advantage of novelty, and I hoped no
more, for I felt what a dangerous rival she might prove if her wit and
talents were equal to her personal charms. The sultan came, and I
exerted myself to please, but, to my mortification, I was neglected; all
his attentions and thoughts were only for my rival, who played her part
to admiration, yielded to him that profound respect and abject
adulation, which, on my part, had been denied him, and which he
probably, as a novelty from a favourite, set a higher price upon. At
last, I was treated with such marked insult, that I lost my temper, and
I determined that the sultan should do the same. I handed him a small
apple. "Will my lord accept this apple from the hand of his slave? is
it not curious in shape? It reminds me of the wen under your majesty's
left arm."
The sultan coloured with rage.
"Yes," replied I laughing, "you have one of them, you know very well."
"Silence, Zara," cried the sultan, in a firm tone.
"And why should I be silent, my lord? Have not I spoken the truth?"
"False woman! deny what you have falsely uttered."
"Sultan, I will not deny the truth. I will, if you command me, hold my
tongue."
"Your slave has been honoured with my lord's attentions, and denies the
assertion as a calumny," observed my rival.
"Peace, wretch! thou hast proved thyself unworthy of the honour, by thy
lying tongue."
"I tell thee, Zara, silence! or you shall feel my indignation."
But I was now too angry, and I replied, "My lord, you well know that I
once held my tongue for eighteen months; I therefore can be silent when
I choose; but I can also speak when I choose, and now I do choose to
speak. I have said it, and I will not retract my words."
The sultan was white with rage; my life hung upon a thread; when the
Circassian maliciously observed, "The bastinado might induce her to
retract."
"And shall," exclaimed the sultan, clapping his hands.
The kislar aga appeared, in obedience to the sultan's orders; the
executioner of the harem, and two slaves, stretched me on the floor--I
made no resistance or complaint; my jewelled slippers were taken off,
and all was ready for the disgraceful punishment.
"Now, Zara, will you retract?" said the sultan, solemnly.
"No, my lord, I will not. I repeat, that you have a wen under your left
arm."
"Strike," cried the sultan, in a paroxysm of rage. The bamboos fell,
and I received a dozen blows. I bore them without a cry; I was too much
choked by my feelings.
"Now, Zara, will you retract?" exclaimed the sultan, in a subdued tone.
"Never, sultan; I will prove to you that a woman has more courage than
you may imagine; if I die under the punishment, my rival shall not have
even the pleasure of a groan. You ask me to retract. I will not swerve
from the truth. You have, and you know you have, and so does that vile
parasite by your side know that you have a wen under your left arm." I
was faint with the pain, and my voice was weak and trembling.
"Proceed," said the sultan.
When I had received thirty blows, I fainted with the agony, and the
sultan ordered them to desist. "I trust, Zara, you are now sufficiently
punished for your disobedience." But I heard him not; and when the
sultan perceiving that I did not reply, looked at me, his heart melted.
He felt how arbitrary, how cruel he had been. The Circassian went to
him; he ordered her, in a voice of thunder, to be gone, me to be unbound
by the other ladies, laid on the sofa, and restoratives to be procured.
When I came to my senses, I found myself alone with the sultan. "Oh
Zara," said he, as the tears stood in his eyes, "why did you tempt me
thus--why were you so obstinate?"
"My lord," answered I, in a feeble voice, "leave your slave and go to
those who can teach their tongues to lie. I have never deceived you,
although I may have displeased you. I have loved you with fidelity and
truth. Now that you have witnessed what I can suffer rather than be
guilty of falsehood, you ought to believe me. Take my life, my lord,
and I will bless you; for I have lost you, and with you I have lost more
than life."
"Not so, Zara," replied the sultan; "I love you more than ever."
"I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, although it is now of no avail.
I am no longer yours, and never will be. I am unfit to be yours; my
person has been contaminated by the touch of Ethiopian slaves--it has
been polluted by the hand of the executioner--it has been degraded by a
chastisement due only to felons. Oblige me, as a last proof of your
kindness, by taking a life which is a burthen to me."
Despot as he was, the sultan was much moved; he was mortified at having
yielded to his temper, and his passionate affection for me had returned.
He intreated my pardon, shed tears over me, kissed my swelled feet, and
humiliated himself so much, that my heart relented--for I loved him
dearly still.
"Zara," exclaimed he, at last, "will you not forgive me?"
"When, my lord, have I ever shown myself jealous? True love is above
jealousy. This evening, to please you, although I have lately been
neglected, did I not request your new favourite to meet you? In return,
I was grossly insulted by neglect, and studied attentions to her. I was
piqued, and revenged myself--for I am but a woman. I was wrong in so
doing, but having told the truth, I was right in not retracting what I
had said. Now that you have degraded me--now that you have rendered me
unworthy of you, you ask me to forgive you."
"And again I implore it, my dearest Zara!"
"There are my jewels, my lord. I have no other property but what I have
received, and cherished as presents from you. Your treasurer well knows
that. Take my jewels, my lord, and present them to her, they will make
her more beautiful in your sight--to me they are now worthless. Go to
her, and in a few days you will forget that ever there was such a person
as the unhappy, the neglected, the disgraced, and polluted Zara." And I
burst into tears, for even with all his ill usage, I was miserable at
the idea of parting with him; for what will not a woman forgive to a man
who has obtained her favour and her love?
"What can I do to prove that I repent?" cried the sultan. "Tell me,
Zara. I have supplicated for pardon, what more can I do?"
"Let my lord efface all traces and memory of my degradation. Was not I
struck by two vile slaves, who will babble through the city? Was not I
held down by an executioner? These arms, which have wound round the
master of the world, and no other, polluted by his gripe."
The sultan clapped his hands, and the kislar aga appeared. "Quick,"
exclaimed he, "the heads of the slaves and executioner who inflicted the
punishment." In a minute the kislar aga appeared; he perceived how
matters stood, and trembled for his own. He held up the three heads,
one after another, and then returned them to the sack of sawdust in
which they had been brought.
"Are you satisfied now, Zara?"
"For myself, yes--but not for you. Who was it that persuaded you to
descend from your dignity, and lower yourself, by yielding to the
instigations of malice? Who was it that advised the _bastinado_? As a
woman, I am too proud to be jealous of her; but as one who values your
honour, and your reputation, I cannot permit you to have so dangerous a
counsellor. Your virgins, your omras, your princes, will all be at her
mercy; your throne may be overturned by her taking advantage of her
power."
The sultan hesitated.
"Sultan, you have but to choose between two things; if she be alive
to-morrow morning, I am dead by my own hand. You know I never lie."
The sultan clapped his hands, the kislar aga again appeared. "_Her_
head," said he, hesitatingly. The kislar aga waited a little to
ascertain if there was no reprieve, for too hasty a compliance with
despots is almost as dangerous as delay. He caught my eye--he saw at
once that if not her head it would be his own, and he quitted the room.
In a few minutes he held up by its fair tresses the head of my beautiful
rival; I looked at the distorted features, and was satisfied. I
motioned with my hand and the kislar aga withdrew.
"Now, Zara, do you forgive me? Now do you believe that I sincerely love
you, and have I obtained my pardon?"
"Yes," replied I, "I do, sultan; I forgive you all; and now I will
permit you to sit by me and bathe my feet."
From that day I resumed my empire with more despotic power than ever. I
insisted that I should refuse his visits when I felt so inclined, and
when I imagined that there was the slightest degree of satiety on his
part, he was certain to be refused admittance for a fortnight. I became
the depositary of his secrets and the mover of his counsels. My sway
was unlimited, and I never abused it. I loved him, and his honour and
his welfare were the only guides to my conduct.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"But your highness will probably be tired; and as I have now told how it
was that I suffered the bastinado, you will perhaps wait till to-morrow
for the history of the bowstring."
"I believe that the old woman is right," said Mustapha, yawning, "it is
late. Is it your highness's pleasure that she shall return to-morrow
evening?"
"Be it so; but let her be in close custody--you remember."
"Be chesm--on my eyes be it. Guards, remove this woman from the sublime
presence."
"It appears to me," said the pacha to Mustapha, "that this old woman's
story may be true. The description of the harem is so correct--
commanding one day, bastinadoed the next."
"Who can doubt the fact, your sublime highness? The Lord of Life
dispenses as he thinks fit."
"Very true; he might send me the bowstring tomorrow."
"Allah forbid!"
"I pray with you; but life is uncertain, and it is our fate. You are my
vizier to-day, for instance--what may you be to-morrow?"
"Whatever your highness may decide," replied Mustapha, not much liking
the turn of the conversation. "Am not I your slave--and as the dirt
under your feet--and shall I not bow to your sovereign pleasure and my
destiny?"
"It is well said, and so must I if the caliph sends me a Capitan Badji,
which Allah forbid. There is but one God and Mahomet is his Prophet."
"Amen," replied Mustapha. "Will your highness drink of the water of the
Giaour?"
"Yes, truly; for what says the poet? `We are merry to-day and to-morrow
we die.'"
"Min Allah; God forbid! That old woman has lived a long while, why
shouldn't we?"
"I don't know; but she has had the bowstring and is not yet dead. We
may not be so fortunate."
"May we never have it at all; then shall we escape, O pacha."
"True, Mustapha; so give me the bottle."