with greater secrecy than the vizier at first expected, when
being one day in the bath, and some important business obliging
him to leave it, warm as he was, the air, which was then cold,
struck to his breast, caused a defluxion to fall upon his lungs,
which threw him into a violent fever, and confined him to his
bed. His illness increasing every day, and perceiving he had not
long to live, he thus addressed himself to his son, who never
quitted him during the whole of his illness: "My son," said he,
"I know not whether I have well employed the riches heaven has
blessed me with, but you see they are not able to save me from
the hands of death. The last thing I desire of you with my dying
breath is, that you would be mindful of the promise you made me
concerning the fair Persian, and in this assurance I shall die
content."
These were the vizier Khacan's last words. He expired a few
moments after, and left his family, the court, and the whole
city, in great affliction, The king lamented him as a wise,
zealous, and faithful minister; and the people bewailed him as
their protector and benefactor.. Never was there a funeral in
Bussorah solemnized with greater pomp and magnificence. The
viziers, emirs, and in general all the grandees of the court,
strove for the honour of bearing his coffin, one after another,
upon their shoulders, to the place of burial; and both rich and
poor accompanied him, dissolved in tears.
Noor ad Deen exhibited all the demonstrations of a sorrow
proportioned to the loss he had sustained, and long refrained
from seeing any company. At last he admitted of a visit from an
intimate acquaintance. His friend endeavoured to comfort him; and
finding him inclined to hear reason, told him, that having paid
what was due to the memory of his father, and fully satisfied all
that decency required of him, it was now high time to appear
again in the world, to converse with his friends, and maintain a
character suitable to his birth and talents. "For," continued he,
"though we should sin against the laws both of nature and
society, and be thought insensible, if on the death of our
fathers we neglected to pay them the duties which filial love
imposes upon us; yet having performed these, and put it out of
the power of any to reproach us for our conduct, it behoves us to
return to the world, and our customary occupations. Dry up your
tears then, and reassume that wonted air of gaiety which has
always inspired with joy those who have had the honour of your
friendship."
This advice seemed too reasonable to be rejected, and had Noor ad
Deen strictly abided by it, he would certainly have avoided all
the misfortunes that afterwards befell him. He entertained his
friend honourably; and when he took his leave, desired him to
come again the next day, and bring with him three or four friends
of their acquaintance. By this means he insensibly fell into the
society of about ten young men nearly of his own age, with whom
he spent his time in continual feasting and entertainments; and
scarcely a day passed but he made every one of them some
considerable present.
The fair Persian, who never approved of his extravagant way of
living, often spoke her mind freely. "I question not," said she,
"but the vizier your father has left you an ample fortune: but
great as it may be, be not displeased with your slave for telling
you, that at this rate of living you will quickly see an end of
it. We may sometimes indeed treat our friends, and be merry with
them; but to make a daily practice of it, is certainly the high
road to ruin and destruction: for your own honour and reputation,
you would do better to follow the footsteps of your deceased
father, that in time you may rise to that dignity by which he
acquired so much glory and renown."
Noor ad Deen hearkened to the fair Persian with a smile: and when
she had done, "My charmer," said he, with the same air of gaiety,
"say no more of that; let us talk of nothing but mirth and
pleasure. In my father's lifetime I was always under restraint;
and I am now resolved to enjoy the liberty I so much sighed for
before his death. It will be time enough for me hereafter to
think of leading the sober, regular life you talk of; and a man
of my age ought to taste the pleasures of youth."
What contributed still more to the ruin of Noor ad Deen's
fortune, was his unwillingness to reckon with his steward; for
whenever he brought in his accounts, he still sent him away
without examining them: "Go, go," said he, "I trust wholly to
your honesty; only take care to provide good entertainments for
my friends."
"You are the master, sir," replied he, "and I but the steward;
however, you would do well to think upon the proverb, 'He that
spends much, and has but little, must at last insensibly be
reduced to poverty.' You are not contented with keeping an
extravagant table, but you must lavish away your estate with both
hands: and were your coffers as large as mountains, they would
not be sufficient to maintain you." "Begone," replied Noor ad
Deen, "I want not your grave lessons; only take care to provide
good eating and drinking, and trouble your head no farther about
the rest."
In the meantime, Noor ad Deen's friends were constant guests at
his table, and never failed to take advantage of the easiness of
his temper. They praised and flattered him, extolling his most
indifferent actions; but, above all, they took particular care to
commend whatever belonged to him; and in this they found their
account. "Sir," said one of them, "I came the other day by your
estate that lies in such a place; nothing can be so magnificent
or so handsomely furnished as your house; and the garden
belonging to it is a paradise upon earth." "I am very glad it
pleases you," replied Noor ad Deen: "bring me pen, ink, and
paper; without more words, it is at your service; I make you a
present of it." No sooner had others commended one of his houses,
baths, or public buildings erected for the use of strangers, the
yearly revenue of which was very considerable, than he
immediately gave them away. The fair Persian could not forbear
stating to him how much injury he did himself; but, instead of
paying any regard to her remonstrances, he continued his
extravagances, and the first opportunity that offered, squandered
away the little he had left.
In short, Noor ad Deen did nothing for a whole year but feast and
make merry, wasting and consuming, with the utmost prodigality,
the great wealth that his predecessors, and the good vizier his
father, had with so much pains and care acquired and preserved.
The year was but just expired, when a person one day knocked at
the door of the hall, where he and his friends were at dinner
together by themselves, having sent away the slaves, that they
might enjoy the greater liberty.
One of his friends offered to rise; but Noor ad Deen stepping
before him, opened the door himself. It was the steward; and Noor
ad Deen, going a little out of the hall to know his business,
left the door half open.
The friend that offered to rise from his seat, seeing it was the
steward, and being curious to know what he had to say, placed
himself between the hangings and the door, where he plainly
overheard the steward's discourse to his master. "Sir," said he,
"I ask a thousand pardons for coming to disturb you in the height
of your pleasure; but what I have to say is of such importance,
that I thought myself bound in duty to acquaint you with it. I am
come, sir, to make up my last accounts, and to tell you, that
what I all along foresaw, and have often warned you of, is at
last come to pass. I have not the smallest piece left of all the
sums I have received from you for your expenses; the other funds
you assigned me are all exhausted. The farmers, and those that
owe you rent, have made it so plainly appear to me, that you have
assigned over to others what they held of you, that it is
impossible for me to get any more from them on your account. Here
are my books; if you please, examine them; and if you wish I
should continue useful to you, assign me other funds, or else
give me leave to quit your service." Noor ad Deen was so
astonished at his statement, that he gave him no answer.
The friend who had been listening all this while, and had heard
every syllable of what the steward said, immediately came in, and
told the company what he had overheard. "It is your business,
gentlemen," said he, "to make your use of this caution; for my
part, I declare to you, this is the last visit I design ever to
make Noor ad Deen." "Nay," replied they, "if matters go thus, we
have as little business here as you; and for the future shall
take care not to trouble him with our company."
Noor ad Deen returned presently after; notwithstanding all his
efforts to appear gay to his guests, he could not so dissemble
his concern, but they plainly perceived the truth of what they
had heard. He was scarcely sat down in his place, when one of his
friends arose: "Sir," said he, "I am sorry I cannot have the
honour of keeping you company any longer; and therefore I hope
you will excuse my rudeness in leaving you so soon." "What urgent
affair," demanded Noor ad Deen, "obliges you to be going so
soon?" "My wife, sir," he replied, "is brought to bed to-day; and
upon such an occasion, you know a husband's company is always
necessary." So making a very low bow, he went away. A minute
afterwards a second took his leave, with another excuse. The rest
did the same, one after another, till at last not one of the ten
friends that had hitherto kept Noor ad Deen company remained.
As soon as they were gone, Noor ad Deen, little suspecting the
resolution they had formed never to see him again, went directly
to the fair Persian's apartment; to whom he related all the
steward had told him, and seemed extremely concerned at the ill
state of his affairs. "Sir," said the fair Persian, "allow me to
say, you would never take my advice, but always managed your
concerns after your own way, and now you see the fatal
consequences. I find I was not mistaken, when I presaged to what
a miserable condition you would bring yourself at last: but what
afflicts me the more is, that at present you do not see the worst
of your misfortunes. Whenever I presumed freely to remonstrate
with you, 'Let us be merry,' you replied, 'and improve the time
that Fortune offers us; perhaps she will not always be so
prodigal of her favours:' but was I to blame in telling you, that
we are ourselves the makers of our own fortunes by a prudent
management of them? You would not hearken to me; and I was
forced, however reluctantly, to let you go on."
"I must own," replied Noor ad Deen, "I was extremely in the wrong
in not following the advice which with such admirable prudence
you gave me. It is true, I have spent my estate; but do you not
consider, it is among a chosen set of friends, whom I have long
known, and who, I am persuaded, have more generosity and
gratitude than to abandon me in distress?" "Sir," replied the
fair Persian, "if you have nothing but the gratitude of your
friends to depend on, your case is desperate; for, believe me,
that hope is ill-grounded, and you will tell me so yourself in
time."
To this Noor ad Deen replied, "Charming Persian, I have a better
opinion of my friends' generosity: to-morrow I design to visit
them all, before the usual time of their coming hither; and you
shall see me return with a round sum that they will assist me
with. I am resolved to alter my way of living, and, with the
money they lend me, to set up in some business."
Next morning, Noor ad Deen visited his ten friends, who lived in
the same street. He knocked at the first door, where one of the
richest of them resided. A slave came to the door: but before he
would open it, asked who was there. "Tell your master," said he
to the slave, "it is Noor ad Deen, the late vizier Khacan's son."
The slave opened the door, and shewed him into a hall, where he
left him, in order to inform his master, who was in an inner
room, that Noor ad Deen was come to wait on him, "Noor ad Deen!"
cried he, in a disdainful tone, loud enough for him to hear: "go
tell him I am not at home; and whenever he may come again, be
sure you give him the same answer." The slave returned, and told
Noor ad Deen he thought his master was within, but was mistaken.
Noor ad Deen came away in the greatest confusion. "Ah! base,
ungrateful wretch!" cried he, "to treat me so to-day after the
vows and protestations of friendship that he made me yesterday."
He went to another door, but that friend ordered his slave also
to say he was gone out. He had the same answer at the third; and,
in short, all the rest denied themselves, though every one was at
home.
Noor ad Deen now began in earnest to reflect with himself, and
see the folly of relying upon the protestations of attachment
that his false friends had solemnly made him in the time of his
prosperity, when he could treat them sumptuously, and load them
with favours. "It is true," said he to himself, "that a fortunate
man, as I was, may be compared to a tree laden with fruit, which,
as long as there is any on its boughs, people will be crowding
round, and gathering; but as soon as it is stripped of all, they
immediately leave it, and go to another." He smothered his
passion as much as possible while he was abroad; but no sooner
was he got home than he gave a loose to his affliction, and
discovered it to the fair Persian.
The fair Persian seeing him so extremely concerned, guessed he
had not found his friends so ready to assist him as he expected.
"Well, sir," said she, "are you now convinced of the truth of
what I told you?" "Ah!" cried he, "thou hast been too true a
prophetess; for not one of them would know me, see me, or speak
to me. Who could ever have believed, that persons so highly
obliged to me, and on whom I have spent my estate, could have
used me so ungratefully? I am distracted; and I fear shall commit
some action unworthy myself, in the deplorable and desperate
condition I am reduced to, unless you assist me with your prudent
advice." "Sir," replied the fair Persian, "I see no other way of
supporting yourself in your misfortunes, but selling off your
slaves and furniture, and living on the money they produce, till
heaven points out some other means to deliver you from your
present misery."
Noor ad Deen was loth to resort to this expedient; but what could
he do in the necessitous circumstances to which he was reduced?
He first sold off his slaves, those unprofitable mouths, which
would have been a greater expense to him than in his present
condition he could bear. He lived on the money for some time; and
when it was spent, ordered his goods to be carried into the
market-place, where they were sold for half their value, though
there were among them several articles that had cost immense
sums. Upon the produce of these he lived a considerable time; but
this supply failing at last, he had nothing left by which he
could raise any more money, of which he informed the fair Persian
in the most sorrowful expressions.
Noor ad Deen little expected the answer this prudent woman made
him. "Sir," said she, "I am your slave; and the late vizier your
father gave ten thousand pieces of gold for me. I know I am a
little sunk in value since that time; but I believe I shall sell
for pretty near that sum. Let me entreat you then instantly to
carry me to the market, and expose me to sale; and with the money
that you get for me, which will be very considerable, you may
turn merchant in some city where you are not known, and by that
means find a way of living, if not in splendour, yet with
happiness and content."
"Lovely and adorable Persian!" cried Noor ad Deen, "is it
possible you can entertain such a thought? Have I given you such
slender proofs of my love, that you should think me capable of so
base an action? But suppose me so vile a wretch, could I do it
without being guilty of perjury, after the oath I have taken to
my late father never to sell you? I would sooner die than break
it, and part with you, whom I love infinitely beyond myself;
though, by the unreasonable proposal you have made me, you shew
me that your love is by no means reciprocal."
"Sir," replied the fair Persian, "I am convinced that your
passion for me is as sincere as you express; and heaven, who
knows with what reluctance I have made this proposal which
induces you to think so hardly of me, is my witness, that mine is
as great as yours; but to silence your reasons, I need only bid
you remember, that necessity has no law. I love you to that
degree that it is impossible for you to love me more; and be
assured, that to what master soever I shall belong, my love for
you will continue undiminished; and if you are ever able to
redeem me, as I hope you may, it will be the greatest pleasure in
the world to be restored to you again. I confess it is a fatal
and cruel necessity to which we are driven; but I see no other
way of freeing ourselves from the misery that involves us both."
Noor ad Deen, convinced of the truth of what the fair Persian had
said, and that there was no other way of avoiding a shameful
poverty, was forced to yield to her proposal. Accordingly he led
her to the market where the women-slaves are exposed to sale,
with a regret that cannot easily be expressed. He applied himself
to a broker, named Hagi Hassan. "Hagi Hassan," said he, "here is
a slave whom I mean to sell; what will they give for her?"
Hagi Hassan desired Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian to walk
into a room; and when she had pulled off the veil that covered
her face, "Sir," said Hagi Hassan, in surprise, "if I am not
mistaken, this is the slave your father, the late vizier, gave
ten thousand pieces of gold for?" Noor ad Deen assured him she
was the same and Hagi Hassan gave him some hopes of selling her
at a high price, and promised to use all his art to raise her
value as high as he could.
Hagi Hassan and Noor ad Deen went out of the room; and Hagi
Hassan locked the fair Persian in. He went immediately to the
merchants; but they being busy in buying slaves from different
countries, Greeks, Franks, Africans, Tartars, and others, he was
forced to wait till the market was over. When the sale was ended,
and the greatest part of them were got together again, "My
masters," said he to them, with an air of gaiety in his looks and
actions, "every thing that is round is not a nut, every thing
that is long is not a fig, all that is red is not flesh, and all
eggs are not fresh; it is true you have seen and bought a great
many slaves in your lives, but you never yet saw one comparable
to her I am going to tell you of. She is the very pearl of
slaves. Come, follow me, you shall see her yourselves, and judge
at what rate I shall cry her."
The merchants followed Hagi Hassan into the apartment where he
had left the fair Persian, and as soon as they beheld her were so
surprised at her beauty, that they unanimously agreed, four
thousand pieces of gold was the very lowest price they could set
upon her. The merchants left the room; and Hagi Hassan, who came
out with them, without going any farther, proclaimed with a loud
voice, "Four thousand pieces of gold for a Persian slave."
None of the merchants had yet offered anything, and were
consulting together about what they might afford to give for her,
when the vizier Saouy appeared. Perceiving Noor ad Deen in the
market, he said to himself, "Noor ad Deen is certainly still
making money of his goods" (for he knew he had exposed them to
sale), "and is come hither to buy a slave with the product." He
advanced forward just as Hagi Hassan began to proclaim a second
time, "Four thousand pieces of gold for a Persian slave."
The vizier Saouy, who concluded by the high price, that the slave
must be extraordinarily beautiful, was very desirous to see her;
so spurring his horse forward, he rode up to Hagi Hassan, who was
surrounded by the merchants. "Open the door," said he, "and let
me see the slave." It was not the custom to shew a slave to a
particular person after the merchants had seen her, and were
treating for her; but none of them durst dispute their right with
the vizier; and Hagi Hassan was obliged to open the door, and he
made a sign to the fair Persian to come forward, that Saouy might
see her, without alighting from his horse.
The vizier was astonished at the sight of so beautiful a slave;
and knowing the broker's name (having formerly dealt with him),
"Hagi Hassan," said he, "is it not at four thousand pieces of
gold that you cry her?" "Yes, sir," answered he; "the merchants
just now agreed that I should put her up at that price: I wait
their advance; and I question not but they will give a great deal
more."
"If no one offers more, I will give that sum," replied Saouy,
looking at the merchants at the same time with a countenance that
forbad them to advance the price. He was so universally dreaded,
that no one durst speak a word, even to complain of his
encroaching upon their privilege.
The vizier having stayed some time, and finding none of the
merchants outbid him, "What do you stay for?" said he to Hagi
Hassan. "Inquire after the seller, and strike a bargain with him
at four thousand pieces of gold, or ask if he demands more."
Hagi Hassan having locked the chamber-door, went to confer with
Noor ad Deen. "Sir," said he to him, "I am very sorry to bring
you the ill news of your slave's going to be sold for nothing."
"How so?" replied Noor ad Deen. "Why sir," continued Hagi Hassan,
"you must know that the business at first went on well; for as
soon as the merchants had seen your slave, they ordered me,
without hesitation, to cry her at four thousand pieces of gold;
accordingly I cried her at that price, but presently the vizier
Saouy came, and his presence has stopped the mouths of all the
merchants, who seemed disposed to raise her, at least to the same
price your deceased father gave for her. Saouy will give no more
than four thousand pieces; and it is much against my inclination
that I am come to tell you his despicable offer. The slave indeed
is your own; but I will never advise you to part with her upon
those terms, since you and every one else are sensible of her
being worth infinitely more; besides, he is base enough to
contrive a way to trick you out of the money."
"Hagi Hassan," replied Noor ad Deen, "I am highly obliged to thee
for thy advice: do not think I will ever sell my slave to any
enemy of our family; my necessities, indeed, are at present very
great; but I would sooner die in the utmost poverty than consent
to delivering her up to him. I have only one thing to beg of
thee, who art skilful in all the turns and shifts of sale, that
thou wouldst put me in a way to prevent the completion of the
bargain."
"Sir," said Hagi Hassan, "nothing is more easy: you must pretend
that, being in a violent passion with your slave, you swore to
expose her in the market, and for the sake of your oath have now
brought her hither, without any intention of selling her. This
will satisfy every one; and Saouy will have nothing to say
against it. Come along with me then; and just as I am presenting
her to Saouy as if it were by your own consent, pull her to you,
give her two or three blows, and send her home." "I thank thee
for thy counsel," said Noor ad Deen, "and will make use of it."
Hagi Hassan went back to the chamber; and having privately
acquainted the fair Persian with their design, that she might not
be surprised, took her by the hand, and led her to the vizier
Saouy, who was still on horseback at the door "Sir," said he,
"here is the slave, she is yours; take her."
The words were scarcely out of Hagi Hassan's mouth, when Noor ad
Deen, catching hold of the fair Persian, pulled her to him, and
giving her a box on the ear, "Come hither, impertinence," said
he, "and get you home again; for though your ill-humour obliged
me to swear I should bring you hither, yet I never intended to
sell you: I have business for you to do yet; and it will be time
enough to part with you when I have nothing else left."
This conduct of Noor ad Deen put the vizier Saouy into a violent
passion. "Miserable debauchee," cried he, "wouldst thou have me
believe thou hast any thing else left to make money of but thy
slave?" and at the same instant, spurring his horse directly
against him, endeavoured to carry off the fair Persian. Noor ad
Deen nettled to the quick at the affront the vizier had put upon
him, quitted the fair Persian, and laying hold of his horse's
bridle, made him run two or three paces backwards. "Vile dotard,"
said he to the vizier, "I would tear thy soul out of thy body
this moment, were it not out of respect for the crowd of people
here present."
The vizier Saouy being hated by all, there was not one among them
but was pleased to see Noor ad Deen mortify him; and by signs
they gave him to understand, that he might revenge himself upon
him as much as he pleased, for nobody would interfere in their
quarrel.