MY PATIENT
"With the blessing of Allah! rub the palms of her hands with saffron!"
"Allah-Illah! Allah-Illah!--tickle the soles of her feet with
feathers!"
"It is destiny! In the name of the Prophet pour cold water down her
back!" "Room for the Frankish _Hakim_!" "May dogs defile the grave of
the Giaour!"
Such were the exclamations that followed me into the apartment of
Zuleika; for the Moslem daughters of Eve are not exempt from the
curiosity attributed by tradition to the common mother; and have,
moreover, superinduced on that pardonable failing certain prejudices of
their own against the Christian unbeliever, whom, even when availing
themselves of his assistance, they do not scruple to curse fluently,
spitting the while between their teeth with considerable energy and
effect.
Pending the application of their customary remedies, which in my
ignorance of fainting-fits I judged to be the professional course of
treatment, the ladies of the harem crowded and chatted at the door,
peering over each other's shoulders, advancing a step into the
apartment, retiring in confusion with a giggle and a scream, flirting
atrociously with their negro guards--men of ebony without and ice
within, as indeed they had need be--and otherwise to the best of their
abilities increasing the general confusion.
One alone came boldly forward to my assistance; venerable she was, but a
dame whom age, though it had deprived her of charms, had not robbed of
the enchanting timidity of youth.
In her efforts to assist the sufferer she had cast her veil aside, but
true to Oriental modesty she scrupulously covered her mouth[#] (and a
very black set of teeth) with her hand even while she addressed me.
Authoritative in her manner, and evidently accustomed to despotic sway
in this part of the establishment, I confess I sincerely pitied the
Pasha to whom this energetic lady must for several years have belonged.
She came close up to me, tore the _yashmak_ from Zuleika's face, and
exclaimed in tones which admitted of no dispute--
[#] A curious custom peculiar to the sex all over the East. The veil,
indeed, seems only adopted as a screen for the mouth, since the eyes are
suffered to flash undimmed by its transparent folds. Should a Turkish
woman be surprised by chance without her _yashmak_, she immediately
claps her hand to her lips, and so remains till the male stranger has
passed by.
"Bring otto of roses to anoint our dove; strip her at once from head to
foot; and kick the Giaour downstairs!"
It was now time to assume a certain amount of dignified authority. I
waved away the uncompromising old lady with the air of a magician
dismissing his familiar; I ordered the lattice to be immediately thrown
open--fortunately it looked towards the east, which was considered much
to enhance the virtue of the breeze that stole through its aperture--and
taking advantage of the returning animation which dawned on Zuleika's
countenance, I repeated an incantation in English--if I remember right
it was the negro melody of "_Oh, Susannah!_" accompanying the monotonous
tones with appropriate gestures, until my patient opened her languishing
black eyes, glanced heavily around her, and sitting upright on her
couch, announced herself completely recovered.
My popularity was now at the flood. Had I administered the simple
remedies which I have since been informed are beneficial in such cases,
I should, however successful, have been looked upon merely in the light
of a common practitioner; but that the lady should recover to the tones
of a popular air, accompanied by a deportment of ludicrous solemnity,
constituted a success which stamped me at once as a proficient in the
Black Art, and won for me unqualified obedience and respect, not wholly
devoid of fear.
To take advantage of the happy moment, I pulled my watch from my pocket,
and placing my finger on the patient's wrist, bid the imperious dame
aforesaid remark how the pulsations corresponded with the ticks of that
instrument. This, too, was a great discovery, and the watch was handed
round for examination to all the curious inmates of the harem in turn.
I then ordered the room to be cleared, and insisted that I should be
left alone with my patient until the minute-hand of my watch had reached
the favourable hour.
This I knew would give me five minutes' conversation with Zuleika, and
as I expected the Pasha home at every instant, I could not afford more
than this short space of time to give my friend the Beloochee's message
and plead his cause. The room was speedily cleared, not, however,
without much laughing, screaming, and scuffling in the passage. As soon
as I was alone with Zuleika, I whispered gently in her ear not to be
afraid, but to trust me, as I came from him she loved best in the world.
The girl started, and began to tremble violently; she was so pale that I
dreaded another fainting-fit, and the consequent destruction of my
reputation as a doctor. Though an Arab, she was a _woman_; and at this
crisis of her destiny was of course paralysed by fear and totally
incapable of acting for herself. Had her emotion mastered her once
more, the golden opportunity would have been lost; there was nothing for
it but to work upon her feelings, and I proceeded in a tone of
indifference--
"You have forgotten him. He bids me say that 'the rose has been
transplanted into a garden of purer air and cooler streams; he has seen
with his own eyes that she is blooming and fragrant, and he is
satisfied. He rejoices in your happiness, and bids you farewell!'"
She burst into a flood of tears; her woman's heart was touched, as I
hoped it would be, by the sentiment I had put into her lover's mouth,
and the relief thus afforded brought her composure and self-command.
She came of a race, too, that never lacked courage or fortitude, and the
wild desert-blood soon mantled once more in her rich, soft cheek--the
tameless spirit of the Bedouin soon flashed again from her large dark
eyes.
"Effendi!" she replied, in a firm though mournful voice, "my father's
daughter can never forget. Bid him think no more of the rose he
cherished so fondly. She has been plucked from the stem, and now she is
drooping and withering away."
"But Allah suffers not the flowers to perish," I proceeded in Oriental
metaphor, while she clasped her slender hands and seemed to look through
me with her glittering eyes. "He sends the dews from heaven to refresh
them at night. A wild bird will sing to the rose before dawn, and she
will open her petals and bloom once more fresh and glistening in the
morning sun. Zuleika, have you completely forgotten Ali Mesrour?"
At the sound of his name a soft, saddened expression stole over her
eager face, large drops gathered in her drooping eyelashes, and it was
with a thrilling voice that she replied--"Never! never! once more to see
him, only once more to hear his voice, and so to die! so to die!" she
repeated, looking dreamily as if into the hopeless future.
"It is destiny," was my answer. "There is but one Allah! An hour
before dawn there will be a caique at the garden gate. Zuleika must
contrive the rest. The risk is great, but 'the diver cannot fetch
pearls without wetting his hair.' Will Zuleika promise?"
"I promise!" was all she had time to reply, for at this instant no
slight commotion was heard in the household, and looking from the
casement I perceived an eight-oared caique brought alongside of the
palace steps, from which a pipe-bearer springing rapidly ashore,
followed by a more sedate personage, evidently a _kiatib_, or secretary,
heralded the great man of the party, who, emerging from the shade of a
white silk umbrella, hitherto held carefully over him by a third
official, now laboured majestically up the marble steps, pausing
occasionally to draw a long breath, and looking around him the while
with an air of corpulent satisfaction that no one but a Turk could
imitate with the slightest prospect of success.
It was indeed the Pasha himself--the fortunate possessor of the
magnificent dwelling, the owner of all these negro slaves, this gorgeous
retinue, these beautiful women--and more still, the lord and master of
poor Zuleika. I thought it better to meet him on the threshold than to
risk his astonishment and displeasure by awaiting his entrance into the
harem; accordingly I hurried down to the court-yard of his palace, and
presented myself before him with a mixture of Eastern courtesy and
European self-respect, such as never fails to impress a Turk with the
feeling that in the presence of a Frank he is himself but of an inferior
order of mankind.
"Salaam, Effendi!" was the observation of the proprietor, as polite and
unmoved as if he had expected me all day. "You are welcome! My house
with all it contains is at your disposal!" He motioned me courteously
into a large, handsome apartment on the ground-floor of the palace, bid
me to be seated, and clapping his palms together, called for pipes and
coffee; then placing himself comfortably on the divan, he crossed his
hands over his stomach, and repeated, "You are welcome!" after which he
sat perfectly silent, nodding his head from side to side, and peering
curiously at me out of his small, twinkling grey eyes.
He was an enormously fat man, buttoned up of course into the usual
single-breasted frock-coat, on the outside of which glittered the
diamond order of the Medjidjie. His huge, shapeless legs were encased
in European trousers of the widest dimensions, and terminated in
varnished Wellington boots, from which he had just cast off a pair of
india-rubber goloshes. It was the modern Turkish costume, affected by
the Sultan himself, and a dress so ill-adapted for the dog-days at
Constantinople can hardly be imagined; yet every official, every
dignitary, every military man, is now clad in these untoward
habiliments, for which they have discarded the picturesque draperies of
their ancestors; so that the fine old Turk, "shawled to the eyes, and
bearded to the nose," is only to be seen in Stamboul amongst the learned
professions and the inferior orders of tradesmen and mechanics. A red
fez was the single characteristic article of clothing worn by the Pasha;
and a more villainous expression of countenance than that which it
overshadowed, it has seldom been my lot to confront. We stared at each
other without speaking. It would have been ill-bred on the part of my
host to ask me what I wanted, and I should have been guilty of an equal
solecism in entering on my business until I had partaken of the
customary refreshment.
Coffee was ere long brought in by negro slaves armed to the teeth, and
of savage, scowling aspect. It was served in delicate filigree cups,
set with priceless diamonds. Long chibouques were then filled and
lighted. As I pressed the pure amber to my lips, and inhaled the
fragrant aroma of the narcotic weed, I resolved to brazen it out
manfully; but never, never again to find myself in such another scrape,
no, not for all the warriors in Beloochistan, nor all the "Zuleikas"
that ever eloped with them from the desert.
I thought I would say nothing of my visit to the harem. I judged, and
rightly, that neither the ladies themselves, nor the negro-guard, whose
duty it was to watch over those caged birds, would be over anxious to
communicate the breach of discipline which had just been enacted, and
that, although the secret was sure to ooze out in the course of a day or
two, it was needless to anticipate the turmoil and disturbance which
would attend its discovery.
But what excuse to make for my ill-timed visit? How to account for my
intrusion on the leisure of so great a man as Papoosh Pasha, one of the
half-dozen highest dignitaries of the empire, the friend and counsellor
of the Sultan himself, even then fresh from the sacred precincts of the
Seraglio Palace, where he had been helping sundry other ponderous Pashas
to mismanage the affairs of his country, and to throw dust in the eyes
of the enervated voluptuary who held the reins of power in a sadly
palsied grasp. I too must take a leaf out of the book of Asiatic
duplicity. I had seen a ship full of wounded dropping her anchor as I
came along; there must have been another attack on the stronghold at
Sebastopol--I was pretty safe in surmising, with no satisfactory result.
I would pretend then that I had been sent to inform his Excellency of
the particulars, and accordingly I puffed forth a volume of pure white
smoke towards the ceiling, and advanced under cover of the discharge.
"His Highness has sent me hither in haste to inform your Excellency of
the great news from the front. Am I too late to be the fortunate
bearer, or has your Excellency already heard the particulars from the
Elshie?"[#]
[#] The ambassador.
He darted a keen, suspicious glance at me, and replied gravely enough,
"The war goes on prosperously in the front. We shall yet sweep 'the
Moscov' from the face of the earth!"
"I am desired to inform your Excellency," I resumed, determined to
persevere at all hazards, "that the Allies have again attacked the
place. The Moscov came out in great numbers to repel the assault; the
French have suffered severely; the Turkish troops covered the retreat
with great gallantry and steadiness; fifteen hundred Russians remained
dead upon the field; many more are disabled; Sebastopol must surrender
within ten days."
"Mashallah!" replied the Pasha, laying his pipe down by his side; but
for the life of me I could not make out whether or not he believed a
word I had been telling him.
"Have I fulfilled my duty to your Excellency?" I continued, becoming
every moment more and more anxious to make my escape. "I am at your
Excellency's disposal; I am the humblest of your slaves. Have I your
permission to depart?"
He looked uneasily around, but there seemed no apparent excuse for
delay. It was evident to me that he wished to communicate with his
retainers, but that his politeness forbade him to do so in my presence,
and a Turk never allows any emergency to make him forget the exigencies
of etiquette. He bade me farewell with much cordiality, ordered a horse
to be got ready to carry me home, and dismissed me with many expressions
of affection, but with the same fierce twinkle in that cunning leaden
eye that had already more than once warned me to beware.
Many and devoted were the Pasha's retainers; hundreds slept on his mats,
and followed at his heels, but I question whether I, the poor nameless
Interpreter, could not command a greater amount of affection, courage,
and fidelity, in the breast of my one trusty four-footed slave and
companion, than existed in the whole retinue, black and white, of the
Oriental dignitary.
Bold had followed me through my wanderings, faced with me many of the
dangers of warfare, and shared in all its privations. The old dog was
getting very time-worn now, quite grizzled about the muzzle, and
ludicrously solemn, both in countenance and demeanour. To the world in
general his temper was anything but conciliatory, and it required little
provocation to make him set his mark on man or beast that affronted him;
but with me he was always the same, obedient, devoted, and affectionate.
He accompanied me everywhere, and would wait for hours in the
court-yards of the Seraskerat or the Embassy, till his master emerged
from the long-watched portal, when he would rise, give himself a lazy
shake, and stalk on gravely by my side, occasionally thrusting his wet
cold nose into my hand, and scowling at all strangers, even of his own
species, with a very ominous "_noli me tangere_" expression, that
forbade the slightest approach to familiarity.
Now the dog is an unclean animal to the Mussulman, and although his life
is spared, as being the authorised scavenger of the streets, the true
disciple of the Prophet scrupulously shuns all contact with the brute
that the Christian loves to train as a servant and cherish as a friend.
There is a curious old Arabic legend, which, although not to be found in
the Koran, is recognised by the faithful as a trustworthy tradition, and
to believe in which is esteemed an essential point of doctrine by the
devout, that accounts for this unkindly superstition. Freely translated,
it runs much in the following fashion:--
"When Allah had created the land and the sea, the mountains, the
forests, the flowers, and the precious stones, he looked, and behold
there was beauty and silence all over the earth.
"Then Allah created the birds and the beasts and the fishes; all things
that swim, and creep, and fly, and run, and every living thing rejoiced
in the sunshine.
"So Allah rested from his work in the Garden of Eden, by the Four
Rivers, and looked around him, and behold the whole earth was astir in
the forepart of the day.
"Then the breeze blew, and the waters laughed and rippled, and the birds
sang, and the blossoms fell.
"So the angels smiled, and said, Praise be to Allah. It is very
good--Allah! Bismillah!
"Then Allah saw that there were none of the inhabitants of earth that
could smile as the angels smiled, or walk erect and praise him with the
face to heaven.
"For the steed was grazing downward, and the lion lay couched in his
lair, and the eagle, though she turned her eye to the sun, had neither
praise nor smile.
"Then Allah took clay, and moistened it, and fashioned it till the sun
went down.
"And Allah rested from his work, and left it in the Garden of Eden, by
the Great Tree, where the Four Rivers spring.
"Now Gabriel walked in the garden, and he stopped where the work of
Allah lay plastic on the sward, and the star shone bright on his
forehead, for he praised Allah in his heart.
"And Shaitan came to walk in the garden, to cool his brow, and he
stopped over against Gabriel and mocked.
"And Shaitan said, 'What is this, that I may know it, and name it, and
claim my share in it for my own?'
"And Gabriel answered, 'Praise be to Allah; who has made all things
well. This is Allah's work, and it shall be the perfection of all.
Bismillah!'
"Then Shaitan laughed once more, and he turned the image over with his
foot, so that it stood on all fours, with its face to the dust, and spat
upon it, and said, 'It is empty! On my eyes be it!'
"And in the morning there was silence in Eden, for the work of Allah had
been defiled.
"And Allah said, 'This is the doing of Shaitan. Behold, I will make of
it yet another brute, and it shall be called the Dog, and be accursed.
"'And I will take other clay, and fashion another image that shall smile
as the angels smile, and walk erect with its face to heaven, and I will
call it Man.'
"And Shaitan cowered behind the Great Tree and listened to the voice of
Allah, and though he trembled, he smiled.
"For Shaitan knew that he would have his share in the Man as in the
beast."
Poor Bold, unconscious of his excommunication, hurried up to me in the
court-yard of the Pasha's palace, where a fine horse, richly
caparisoned, was being brought alongside the mounting-block for my use.
In doing so the dog's tail, waving to greet his master, touched the hand
of a tall forbidding-looking negro that stood by, grinning from ear to
ear, as is the custom of his countrymen. The black swore a great oath,
and kicked my dog savagely in the jaws. As Bold pinned him by the leg,
I caught him such a buffet under the ear as knocked him fairly into the
dust; from which abject position he embraced my feet and called me "his
father." With some little difficulty I rated Bold off his prostrate
foe, and mounting my horse, or rather the Pasha's, rode quietly to my
hotel, where I dismissed the steed, and the groom who had accompanied
him on foot, with a "_baksheesh_," and thought nothing more of the
transaction. "A word and a blow" is as common a proceeding in
Constantinople as at Donnybrook fair, though it leads to far different
results; inasmuch as in the former abode of despotic authority and
slavish submission it is very generally the only argument that is
capable of enforcing proper subordination and respect.
It is seldom that a man loses his temper, even under the greatest
provocation, without having cause, sooner or later, to regret his want
of self-command. There are few of our fellow-creatures so unimportant
that it is not worth while to conciliate them, none that may not some
time have it in their power to inflict on us an injury; besides, an
angry man is only less contemptible than a frightened one. And, like
everything else that is unchristianlike, it is surely ungentlemanlike to
put oneself in a passion. There was not much in knocking down a negro
slave for his brutality towards my favourite, yet, ere long, I had cause
bitterly to rue that I had not let him alone.