O branch of an exquisite rose plant, for whose
sake dost thou grow? Ah! on whom will that
smiling rose-bud confer delight?
HAFIZ.
Nor did Nourmahal confine herself to these occupations, although, in a
profitable point of view, they were the most productive in which she
could have been engaged. The prices to which her manufactures speedily
rose, in consequence of the avidity with which they were sought
throughout Hindostan, would have enabled her to realize a handsome
fortune. But it was her pride to vary her employments, in order that
she should feel no talent under her command, which she did not
exercise on this occasion, in the service of her beloved parents.
She had acquired, almost while she was a child, the art of carving in
ivory. This she now put into requisition, and imparted also to her
handmaids. They combined to create from the shapeless masses, which
Zeinedeen procured for them, miniature temples, towers, baskets, images
of the Hindoo gods, chessmen, and small essence cases of the most
exquisite description.
One of the most remarkable of their productions, was a model of the
market-place in Agra, and of portions of the streets immediately
leading into it. There were to be seen, either in the market, or
hastening towards it, vendors of fruits, vegetables, flowers, milk,
rice, honeycomb, perfumes, medicines, jewels, trinkets, books, and
ballads; horses, camels, and elephants; birds and beasts of every kind.
The actors in this varied scene were so cunningly displayed, in the
expression of countenance,--in attitude,--in costume sometimes very
ragged,--often scanty in the extreme, that they seemed actually to
live, and to be shouting out the names of the different objects which
they had to sell. Those objects were necessarily all upon the most
minute scale. But they were imitated in every respect with the most
elaborate skill, and with a degree of perfection altogether unrivalled.
It was said, that for this production alone Nourmahal received a
thousand gold rupees.
Excelling, as she did, all other persons in almost every thing she
undertook, this pious daughter attended also with an assiduity which
she suffered no other occupation to interrupt, even to the meanest
department of her little household. She was usually the first to awake
every morning. Arraying herself in a plain cotton robe cinctured at
the waist and plaited on her bosom, in trowsers of the same material,
and slippers of russet cloth, her beautiful and abundant hair folded
into the narrowest possible compass on the crown of her head, and
braided over her temples, she called her handmaids to her assistance,
and proceeded to cleanse and put in order the apartment opening to
the Jumna, which was the sitting room of the family. This chamber,
so meanly furnished when they first took possession of it, she had
converted into a little paradise. The window, overlooking the river,
though of ample size, and admitting a quantity of light sufficient to
give the room a cheerful appearance, was, nevertheless, so closely
latticed, that it was calculated always to remind them of their captive
condition. She contrived, however, to modify its unpleasant effect in
that way, by gilding the bars, and wreathing them with festoons of
an artificial clematis, which, without intercepting any considerable
portion of the light, gave the window an airy and graceful appearance,
through the muslin curtains and drapery she suspended over it. The
walls were hung with rich damask of a bright amber colour, and the
vaulted ceiling was covered with folds of azure silk, which made the
room resemble the interior of a pavilion. For the wretched divan
which originally ran round the apartment, were substituted sofas and
ottomans, covered with purple velvet, decorated with superb fringes
and tassels of gold bullion. A Persian carpet, representing a leopard
in pursuit of antelopes and foxes, was spread upon the floor. Round
ebony-tables, and stands of red rose-wood, were disposed in the
corners, and exhibited a variety of beautiful porcelain jars and
vases, abundantly replenished with perfumes; silver filagree cases,
holding small china coffee cups, sherbet glasses, and gold baskets
always filled with the most delicious confectionary, and golden ewers
for ablutions.
If any of the fringes, or linings, happened to be rent, Nourmahal was
ready with a needle and thread, in a silken case suspended from her
girdle, to repair them. She took her full share in brushing the carpet,
in preventing any dust from accumulating on the drapery, in arranging
the table for the morning meal, pounding the coffee in a mortar,
and preparing the beverage itself, in which she skilfully preserved
the fine aroma, that constitutes the juice of the mocha an almost
intoxicating nectar. Her father was fond of a small saffron cake, with
coriander seed mixed in it. She was careful to have a fresh supply for
him every morning, kneaded by her own hand, and baked under her own
eye on the hearth of a recess in the tower, which they were allowed to
use as a kitchen. The other meals of the day were arranged under her
mother’s superintendance. From these luxury was absent, Kazim always
preferring viands dressed with the utmost simplicity, followed by a
cup or two of generous wine, which he found conducive to health and
cheerfulness.
Under Nourmahal’s care the two other apartments assigned to their use,
were also speedily altered from their original gloomy appearance. That
next to the principal saloon was the bed-chamber of her parents; the
other was occupied for the same purpose, by herself and her attendants.
The walls and ceilings of these rooms were hung with blue or green
silk, and abundantly furnished with carpets, mattresses, and cushions,
whose soft and soothing aspect invited to repose.
The morning meal over, Nourmahal changed her cotton dress for a
snow-white lawn tunic and trowsers, and seated herself, with her
assistants, to the occupation marked out for the day. They were usually
richly apparelled, unless when menially employed; for, although their
mistress preferred very plain attire for herself, she felt a pleasure
in seeing her companions exhibiting some of the profits of their
labour, in the variety and elegance of their costume--a taste, on
her part, to which they--artless and rather pretty maidens--had no
objection. Mangeli now and then participated in their operations; but
she more frequently sat by her husband, knitting stockings, while he
read for the whole circle passages from the poetry he admired; or tales
from the Persian, which seemed to have peculiar charms for the slaves.
It was delightful to him to give them an indulgence in that respect.
But he always reserved some hours to himself for graver pursuits--the
study of law, the perusal of philosophical works, or the collection of
materials from his memory for a history of his own times. The evenings
were generally devoted to music.
The spectacle of family affection, industry, innocence, cheerfulness,
and religion, presented by these illustrious prisoners and their
domestics, when congregated together during the coolness of the early
summer morning, was one which even a cherub, winging his way through
space charged with a message from heaven to distant worlds, would have
stopped to contemplate. What could Bochari have done against persons
of this description, whose mental resources defied all his powers of
persecution? The fame of Nourmahal’s productions was spread all over
the empire. But the admiration in which they were universally held,
was secondary to the applause and sympathy which she won from every
parent, for the earnest and successful application of her varied
talents to the support of those whom her filial piety rendered so
sacred in her estimation. Bochari well knew that any attempt to follow
up his fabricated charges of high treason against her, would be, in
truth, to bring upon his head a revolution. For any such consequence as
that, he was as yet insufficiently prepared. Nothing was left undone
by which he could hope eventually to accomplish the extirpation of the
house of Ayas. So long as Kazim and Nourmahal existed, he felt them as
obstacles in his way to the throne, at which he now aimed. But time
was still wanted to mature his designs. The experiment tried upon the
mansion of the chancellor, afforded him a warning which he had not yet
forgotten.
The spirit of deep discontent was, he knew from his emissaries,
spreading from day to day amongst the people. The emperor was seldom
seen by them beyond the walls of the seraglio. Indeed he was scarcely
ever heard of, as, although all the acts of authority were still
carried on in his name, it was known that he was very little consulted
with respect even to measures of the first importance. The only person
with whom the Persian seemed to share his absolute power was Auzeem,
from whom, on every occasion on which he sought them, he received
assistance and counsel, to the astonishment and regret of all those
omrahs who were acquainted with that minister’s character. They could
not understand how Auzeem, hitherto looked up to for the experience
of the statesman, the honour of the true nobleman, the fidelity with
which he served the emperor abroad and at home, and even the particular
and zealous regard which he evinced towards Jehangire, could have been
prevailed upon to abandon the interest of his master and friend; of the
man who, in familiarity, called him uncle; and dedicate all his powers
to the consolidation of the tyranny which the usurper had established.
Indeed, Bochari himself sometimes wondered at the readiness with which
Auzeem entered into his views. He never found in that adviser any
disposition to halt at measures of a moderate character, when a crisis,
or even a minor disturbance was apprehended. Auzeem always resolved
in favour of the sternest course. His suggestions were shaped with
a direct tendency to put down all chance of any successful revolt
against Bochari’s authority. His influence over the emperor was every
day becoming greater; but Bochari had no reason to be jealous of it,
because it was manifestly used for the purpose of reconciling Jehangire
to the idea that his life was in perpetual danger from the poniards of
conspirators, and that he could not do better than allow Bochari to
take into his hands the uncontrolled government of the empire.
So entirely did the Persian rely upon Auzeem’s zeal in his favour, that
he latterly seldom thought it necessary to communicate personally with
the emperor. The bickerings, and downright quarrels which occurred
between him and Jehangire, at almost every interview, produced feelings
so opposite to those kindled in the heart of the Persian by the daily
increasing adulation of his numerous parasites, that most of his time
was passed in their company.
Nothing was now talked of amongst these persons but the abdication
of the emperor. They induced Bochari to believe that the apparent
tranquillity which had prevailed for some time, without any remarkable
interruption, was an unequivocal testimony of his success in the plans
he had put into action for reducing the country under his yoke. The
idea was readily taken up by the Orcha chieftains and their dependants,
who had become very impatient, on account of the procrastinating
answers which the Persian was obliged to give to their importunities
for the vice-royalties he had promised them. If the emperor were
dethroned, the authority under which the different subahs of the
provinces had been acting would, of course, altogether cease, and their
successors would experience no difficulty in taking possession of their
offices.
Even in this audacious design, Auzeem appeared to concur. The moment it
was hinted to him by Bochari, he declared himself in favour of it.
“Indeed,” said he, “to be candid with you, this is a measure which I
have already considered in all its bearings. Nor do I apprehend that
the emperor will strongly object to it. He has lately almost wholly
alienated his mind from affairs of state.”
“And has returned, no doubt, to his theological follies, mingling with
them, as usual, his devotions also to the wine-cup?”
“As to that, you are aware of his habits from a very early age.”
“It would be a pity to disturb them. If the reports of the seraglio may
be depended upon, the uncle and the nephew still spend many a night
together, alternately reading the Koran, and shewing their respect for
it, by having their tables laden with flasks of Cabul wine. Ha! ha! ha!”
“Ha! ha! ha! Ah, my friend, I believe, after all, that we have found
the true philosopher’s stone; the real talisman of happiness. To you
we consign all the cares of the empire; while no hour passes us by,
that is not redolent of pleasure. Ha! ha! ha!”
“Keep to that--keep to that, Auzeem. His majesty shall never want
supplies from Cabul. Now as to the abdication.”
“There will be no difficulty in the matter, if you do but arrange it
prudently.”
“What would you advise me to do?”
“You are aware of that foolish passion which Jehangire has long
entertained for Nourmahal.”
“She is a dangerous woman. Her name is in every body’s mouth. It is
chalked upon all the walls in Agra.”
“It must be owned that she is an extraordinary woman. Hurled by
your arm from a palace to a prison, she has contrived to diffuse
her reputation throughout the empire, by the productions of her
industry--productions having nothing in them which you can charge as
treasonable, and yet calculated to produce political consequences of
the most important character.”
“That is precisely my feeling, though I had never been able so clearly
to understand her designs before.”
“Every brocade she sends out is a proclamation against your authority.”
“This must be put a stop to.”
“I agree with you; but the question is, how?”
“Jehangire is still, you say, attached to her?”
“Ardently. I am convinced that he would give his crown for her hand.”
“Depend upon it, she would then put the crown on her own head.
No--Auzeem, this must not be thought of. Cannot your experience
suggest some other course for getting rid of that woman?”
“Let Jehangire marry her, upon condition that he abdicates, and that
both retire to Persia upon an adequate income, secured to them out of
the treasury.”
“Well thought of. You have proved my best friend, Auzeem. When the
sceptre shall be grasped in this hand, look upon Cashmere as yours.”
“That would be a reward far above my merits. It is a sufficient
compensation to me to feel, that I have in any way contributed to the
establishment of the power, which you now so worthily exercise. I shall
go, forthwith, to sound the emperor.”
“If I am deceived in that man,” thought Bochari to himself, as Auzeem
quitted the cabinet in which they had been conversing, “I can never
again put trust in any human being. Jehangire wedded to Nourmahal!
Would they not then be too strong for me? Her name has a sorcery about
it, which seems to have turned the heads of the people of Agra. The
very ballads sung through the market-place are full of her praises.
Conspiracy is at the bottom of this. I have no doubt of it. If she
would go to Persia, however, and be contented to remain there, that
would be some security. And then the diadem of Hindostan would indeed
be mine! Oh! glorious destiny for the son of a portrait-painter, as
the malignant omrahs are pleased to call me! Their day will come yet.
Nourmahal too, and her imperial lover, let them be but once beyond the
confines of the empire; I shall take good care that they never return.”