AMZI FINALLY REJECTS MOHAMMED.
"'Do the duty which lies nearest thee' which thou knowest to be
a duty! Thy second duty will already have become
clearer."--_Carlyle, "Sartor Resartus."_
Upon the following morning Yusuf hastened to obtain an interview with
Mohammed. The prophet lived in an ostentatiously humble abode--a low,
broad building, roofed with date-sticks, and thatched with the broad
leaves of the palm tree.
Mohammed absolutely refused to see him. Ayesha, the youngest and fairest
of the prophet's wives, sent to inform him that Mohammed had nothing to
say to the Christian Yusuf. So with heavy heart he turned away and
sought the house of Zeid, deeming that he, as the prophet's adopted son
and most devoted follower, might have some influence in obtaining
Dumah's release.
Zeid sat in a low, airy apartment, through whose many open windows a
cool breeze entered. By him sat his newly-wedded wife, unveiled, for at
that time the rules in regard to veiling were not so strictly insisted
upon as at a later day, when the prophet's decree against the unveiling
of women was more rigorously enforced.
Even Yusuf noted her marvelous beauty. There was a peculiarity of
action, a something familiar about her, too, which gave him a hazy
recollection of having seen her before; but not for several moments did
the association come up in his memory, and he saw again the little
Jewish home of Nathan in Mecca, the dim light, and the beautiful child
whose temples Nathan's wife was so tenderly bathing. Yes, after the
lapse of years, in a flash he knew her for Zeinab!
She listened with interest to the tale of the Jewish singer; but there
was a heartlessness in her air, and a certain contempt in the look which
she bent upon the Christian who was thus making intercession for an
unworthy Jew.
"I have neither eyes to see, tongue to speak, nor hands to act, save as
the prophet is pleased to direct me," was Zeid's reply, in the most
determined tone.
Yusuf, seeing no hope, left the house, and shortly afterwards Zeid, too,
went down into the town. Scarcely had he left when Mohammed entered.
Zeinab was still at the window, which opened directly on the courtyard.
A myrtle bush grew near, and she listlessly plucked some of the white
blossoms and twined them in the braids of her glossy black hair. She
wore a loose gown of sky-blue silk with a drape of crimson, and deep
pointed sleeves of filmy, white lace. Her veil was cast aside, and when
the prophet entered she turned her magnificent dark eyes, with their
shading of kohl, full upon him.
Ever susceptible to the influence of beauty, he exclaimed, "Praise be
God, who turneth the hearts of men as he pleaseth!" And he at once
coveted her for his wife; although according to law she bore the
relation of daughter to him.
He intimated his desire to Ali, who, in turn, broke the news to Zeid.
Zeid returned pale and trembling to his home. He loved his wife deeply;
yet his devotion to the prophet and the sense of obligation which he
owed him as foster-father, for having freed him from servitude, appealed
to him strongly. Bowing his head upon his wife's knee, he wept.
"Why do you weep, Zeid?" she asked.
"Alas!" he cried, "could one who has known thee as wife forbear to weep
at having thee leave him?"
"But I will never leave my Zeid."
"Not even to become the wife of the prophet?"
"Mohammed does not want me for his wife," she said quickly.
Zeid sighed. "Could you be happy were you his wife?" he asked.
The beauty's ambitious spirit rose, but she only said: "Were I made his
wife, it would be the will of Allah."
Zeid pushed her gently from him, and went out. "Mohammed," he said,
seating himself at the prophet's feet, "you care for Zeinab. I come to
offer her to you. Obtain for your poor Zeid a writ of divorce."
The prophet's face showed his satisfaction. "I could never accept such a
sacrifice," he said, hesitatingly.
"My life, my all, even to my beloved wife, belongs to my master,"
returned Zeid. "His pleasure stands to me before aught else."
"So be it, then, most faithful," said the prophet. "O Zeid, my more than
son, a glorious reward is withheld for you."
Then, as ever, a revelation of the Koran came seasonably ere another
day, to remove every impediment to the union of Mohammed and Zeinab.
"But when Zeid had determined the matter concerning her, and had
resolved to divorce her, we joined her in marriage unto thee, lest a
crime should be charged on the true believers in marrying the wives of
their adopted sons: and the command of God is to be performed. No crime
is to be charged on the prophet as to what God hath allowed him."
There were those in Medina who resented Mohammed's selfishness in thus
appropriating Zeinab to himself, and there were those who questioned the
honor of such a proceeding; but this questioning went on mostly among
the few Bedouin adherents who had flocked into the town in his service,
for the most sacred oath of the highest class of Bedouins has long been,
"By the honor of my women!"
In none did the prophet's action inspire more disgust than in our two
friends, Yusuf and Amzi. Amzi had long since lost all faith in the
prophet as a divine representative; and this marriage with Zeinab only
confirmed his distrust.
"Pah!" he said to Yusuf, "he not only lets his own impulses sway him,
but he uses the sanction of heaven to authorize the satisfaction of
every desire, no matter who is trampled upon in the proceeding. Was
there ever such sacrilege?"
Yusuf returned: "For this I am thankful, brother: that you at last
apply the term 'sacrilege' to the claims of this impostor."
"Think you he is no longer in earnest at all for the raising of his
countrymen from idolatry?"
"He seeks to throw down idols, but to raise himself in their stead.
Cupidity and ambition, Amzi, have well-nigh smothered every struggling
seed of good in Mohammed's haughty bosom."
"Do you not think that, at the beginning, he imagined himself inspired?"
"Mohammed is strangely visionary. At the beginning he, doubtless,
thought he saw visions, but, if the man thinks himself inspired now, he
is mad."
"Yet what a personality he has!" said Amzi, musingly. "What a charm he
bears! How his least word is sufficient to move this crowd of howling
fanatics!"
"A man who might be an angel of light, were he truly under divine
guidance," returned Yusuf. "And, mark me, Amzi, his influence will not
stop with this generation. The influence of every man on God's earth
goes on ever-rolling, ever-unceasing, down the long tide of eternity;
but, in every age, there are those who, like Mohammed, possess such an
individuality, such a personality, that their power goes on increasing,
crashing like the avalanche down my native mountains."
"How eloquently such a thought appeals to right impulse, right action!"
said Amzi, thoughtfully. "Did a man realize its import fully, he would
surely be spurred on to act, not to sit idly letting the world drift
by."
"'No man liveth unto himself,'" said Yusuf slowly. "Whether we will it
or not, we are each of us ever exerting some influence for good or for
ill upon those with whom we come in contact. No one can be neutral. Acts
often speak in thunder-tones, when mere words are heard but in
whispers."
"I fear me, Yusuf," said the Meccan, with a half-smile, "that Amzi has
neither thundered in action, nor even whispered in words. So little good
has he done, that he almost hates to think of your great influence
theory."
Yusuf smiled and slipped his arm about the Meccan's shoulder. "Amzi,
the name of 'benevolent' belies your words," he said. "Think you that
your home duties faithfully performed, your pure and upright life, pass
for naught?"
"You would stand aghast, Yusuf," returned Amzi, "if I told you the
amount of time that I have squandered, simply in dreaming, smoking, and
taking my ease."
"Time is a precious gift," replied Yusuf, "it flows on and on as a great
river towards the sea, and never returns. It appears to me, every day,
more clearly as the talent given to all men to be used rightly. I, as
well as you, have let precious hours pass, and, in doing so, we have
both done wrong. Yet I pray that we may every day see, more and more,
the necessity of well occupying the hours,--'redeeming the time, because
the days are evil.'"
"Would that I had your decision of purpose, your firmness of will!" said
Amzi, wistfully. "Yusuf, it would be impossible for me to spend all my
time as you do,--visiting, relieving, studying, speaking ever the word
in season, and ever working for others. I should miss my _kaif_."
"Even if you know it was in the cause of the Lord?" asked Yusuf, with
gentle reproof. "Yet, Amzi, you have done as much as I, considering your
opportunities. The great thing is to do faithfully whatever comes to
one's hand, whether that be great or small. Know you not that it was
said to him who had received only two talents, 'Well done, good and
faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make
thee ruler over many things.' As bright crowns await the humble
home-workers as the great movers of earth, provided all be done 'as unto
the Lord.'"
"But," returned Amzi, impatiently, "my 'good works,' as you call them,
have not been done 'as unto the Lord.' My charities have been done
simply because the sight of misery caused me to feel unhappy. I felt
pity for the wretched, and in relieving them set my own mind at ease,
and gave satisfaction to myself. I feel that it is right to do certain
things, and so I do them under a sense of moral obligation."
"Then," said Yusuf, "has this acting under a sense of moral obligation
brought you perfect satisfaction, perfect rest?"
"Frankly, it has not."
Yusuf rose, and, placing both hands on Amzi's shoulders, said earnestly:
"My friend, who can say that every good impulse of man may not be an
outcome of the divine nature implanted in him by the Creator, and which,
if watered and developed, will surely burst into the flower of goodness
when once the influence of God's Spirit is fully recognized and ever
invoked? Amzi, you have many such seeds of innate good. Your very
longings for good, your tone of late, show me that you are near this
blessed recognition. Why will you not believe? Why will you not embrace
the Lord Jesus Christ? We are all weak of ourselves, but we have
strength in him. Amzi, my friend, pray for yourself."
He turned abruptly and left Amzi alone, to ponder long and earnestly
over the conversation of the past hour.