For a day or so the Moslems made merry over the disconcerted Jews and
their Messiah. The street-boys ran after the Sabbatians, shouting,
"_Gheldi mi? Gheldi mi?_" (Is he coming? Is he coming?); the very bark
of the street-dogs sounded sardonic. But soon the tide turned.
Sabbataï's prophetic retinue testified unshaken to their
Master--Messiah because Sufferer. Women and children were rapt in
mystic visions, and miracles took place in the highways. Moses Suriel,
who in fun had feigned to call up spirits, suddenly hearing strange
singing and playing, fell into a foaming fury, and hollow prophecies
issued from him, sublimely eloquent and inordinately rapid, so that on
his recovery he went about crying, "Repent! Repent! I was a mocker and
a sinner. Repent! Repent!" The Moslems themselves began to waver. A
Turkish Dervish, clad in white flowing robes, with a stick in his
hand, preached in the street corners to his countrymen, proclaiming
the Jewish Messiah. "Think ye," he cried, "that to wash your hands
stained with the blood of the poor and full of booty, or to bathe your
feet which have walked in the way of unrighteousness, suffices to
render you clean? Vain imagination! God has heard the prayers of the
poor whom ye despise! He will raise the humble and abash the proud."
Bastinadoed in vain several times, he was at last brought before the
Cadi, who sent him to the _Timar-Hané_, the mad-house. But the doctors
testified that he was sound, and he was again haled before the Cadi,
who threatened him with death if he did not desist. "Kill me," said
the Dervish pleadingly, "and ye will deliver me from the spirits which
possess me and drive me to prophesy." Impressed, the Cadi dismissed
him, and would have laden him with silver, but the Dervish refused and
went his rhapsodical way. And in the heavens a comet flamed.
Soon Sabbataï had a large Turkish following. The Jews already in the
debtors' dungeon hastened to give him the best place, and made a rude
throne for him. He became King of the Prison. Thousands surged round
the gates daily to get a glimpse of him. The keeper of the prison did
not fail to make his profit of their veneration, and instead of the
five _aspres_ which friends of prisoners had to pay for the privilege
of a visit, he charged a crown, and grew rapidly rich. Some of the
most esteemed Jews attended a whole day before Sabbataï in the
Oriental postures of civility and service--eyes cast down, bodies
bending forward, and hands crossed on their breasts. Before these
visitors, who came laden with gifts, Sabbataï maintained an equally
sublime silence; sometimes he would point to the chapter of Genesis
recounting how Joseph issued from his dungeon to become ruler of
Egypt.
"How fares thy miserable prisoner?" casually inquired the Kaimacon of
his Sub-Pacha one day.
"Miserable prisoner, Sire!" ejaculated the Sub-Pacha. "Nay, happy and
glorious Monarch! The prison is become a palace. Where formerly
reigned perpetual darkness, incessant wax tapers burn; in what was a
sewer of filth and dung, one breathes now only amber, musk, aloe-wood,
otto of roses, and every perfume; where men perished of hunger now
obtains every luxury; the crumbs of Sabbataï's table suffice for all
his fellow-prisoners."
The Deputy-Vizier was troubled, and cast about for what to do.
Meantime the fame of Sabbataï grew. It was said that every night a
light appeared over his head, sometimes in stars, sometimes as an
olive bough. Some English merchants in Galata visited him to complain
of their Jewish debtors at Constantinople, who had ceased to traffic
and would not discharge their liabilities. Sabbataï took up his quill
and wrote:
"To you the Nation of Jews who expect the appearance of the Messiah
and the Salvation of Israel, Peace without end. Whereas we are
informed that ye are indebted to several of the English nation: It
seemeth right unto us to order you to make satisfaction to these your
just debts: which if you refuse to do, and not obey us herein, know ye
that then ye are not to enter with us into our Joys and Dominions."
The debts were instantly paid, and the glory of the occupant of the
debtors' prison waxed greater still. The story of his incarceration
and of the homage paid him, even by Mussulmans, spread through the
world. What! The Porte--so prompt to slay, the maxim of whose polity
was to have the Prince served by men he could raise without envy and
destroy without danger--the Turk, ever ready with the cord and the
sack, the sword and the bastinado, dared not put to death a rebel, the
vaunted dethroner of the Sultan. A miracle and a Messiah indeed!