Eastern Tales by Many Story Tellers Part 66

As soon as night had spread her shades, Chamsada, contrary to her custom, signified that she had need of rest. She sent away her slaves, and threw herself upon a sofa. Scarcely had she been there two hours when the Sultan, impatient to prove the nurse's secret, presented himself at the apartment of his favourite: he found there the chief of the eunuchs.

"How is Chamsada employed?" demanded he.

"She had need of rest," replied the eunuch, "and I believe she is upon her sofa."

The Sultan entered without making the least noise, and found her asleep. He approached very near her, in order the better to judge of the soundness of her sleep, and, thinking it profound, he judged it proper to try his experiment, and gently applied the heart of the bird to that of Chamsada, saying to her, "Chamsada, who is that young man whom you were caressing when one of my ministers surprised you?"

"He is Shaseliman," replied she, without awaking, "the only child of my first marriage with the son of Selimansha my uncle."

"This child was stabbed in his cradle; I am a.s.sured of this by letters from your uncle himself."

"He was indeed wounded, but the stroke was not mortal; skilful surgeons restored him to life; and this was kept a secret from the murderer of my husband."

"Why have you concealed it from me, who loved you so dearly?"

"Because my uncle, whose memory I cherished, and wished to be respected, had for a political reason imposed upon you respecting this fact. If what I have told you does not appear possible, interrogate the young man, and his mouth will confirm the truth of this declaration."

Having got this ray of light, the Sultan gave over his inquiries, withdrew from his spouse, whom he supposed still asleep, left her apartment, and gave orders that the young man and the slave should be brought out of the dungeons in which they were shut up. This order was immediately executed.

The unfortunate Shaseliman, who was languis.h.i.+ng in his prison, suddenly hearing the vaults resound with the noise of the bolts and keys, believed that his last hour was come, and that the ignominy of punishment was about to terminate his existence.

"O Allah!" said he, raising his innocent hands to heaven, "my life is in Thy hands; to Thee I resign it; but watch over the life of my mother!"

Shaseliman and the slave were brought before the Sultan. The Prince did not leave to others the care of proving a fact so important to his honour and repose. He ran to the young man, and searched in his bosom for the scar of Balavan's poniard; he found it, and, transported with joy, he exclaimed, "O Allah! for ever be Thou blessed for having preserved me from the dreadful crime I was about to commit! and thou His great Prophet, a signal mark of whose protection the virtues of Chamsada have drawn down upon me, to so many favours still add that of enabling me to efface, by my services, the dreadful sorrows I have occasioned, and the idea of the injustice I was about to commit!"

Then throwing himself into the arms of Shaseliman, "Come, dear and unfortunate Prince, come to my heart! Let your image be joined there with that of my beloved Chamsada, that my most tender affections may henceforth be centred on one object alone! But deign to satisfy my curiosity, and inform me by what chain of events you have been conducted hither, unknown to all the world. How have you existed?

Speak, Prince. I am impatient to know more particularly the person who restores me to happiness."

Shaseliman, encouraged by the demonstration of such affecting kindness, then gave a faithful detail of his adventures, from the very moment in which he had been hurled from the throne into prison, even to that in which, reduced to the humble condition of a shepherd, he had been found by the messenger of his mother, surrounded by robbers, drawn up out of the well into which they had been let down, and conducted to the Court of the Sultan.

While this recital engaged the attention of Bensirak, Chamsada, his spouse, although less troubled than on the preceding days, was not altogether in a tranquil state. The events had become too important for her. She endeavoured to find out with what design the Sultan, after having questioned her, had departed so abruptly. She had not been able to learn what he had done, nor what was become of him, since the confession which she had made to him. She was indulging these reflections, and continued sunk in the sleep in which the Sultan seemed to surprise her. All at once twenty slaves, carrying flambeaux, came to illuminate her apartment; they walked before the Sultan, who conducted by the hand and looked with kindness on the beloved son of the most virtuous of mothers. He had caused Shaseliman to be dressed in the most magnificent garments; he was adorned with beautiful diamonds, in which Bensirak had delighted to be decked on the days of triumph.

"Soothe your sorrows, adorable Chamsada," cried he, throwing himself into her arms. "The favour of Heaven restores to you a husband and a son, whose feelings and affection secure your felicity for ever."

Shaseliman, on his knees, kissed the hands of his mother; and tears of consolation expressed the sentiments of the son and of the delighted pair.

As soon as day had succeeded this happy night, the Sultan a.s.sembled the best of his troops, and put himself at their head, accompanied by Shaseliman. He took the road for Persia, causing heralds go before him, and announce to the people of that kingdom that he was about to re-establish on the throne their rightful King, a.s.sa.s.sinated, persecuted, and dethroned by the usurper Balavan. Scarcely had they reached the frontiers of Persia, when a party of the faithful subjects of the old King Selimansha, always attached to the blood of this august family, came to range themselves under the banners of the Sultan of Egypt and of Shaseliman. The perfidious Balavan heard this intelligence, and endeavoured to a.s.semble his forces, in order to dispute the ground with a powerful enemy who came to overwhelm him; but no one would repair to his colours, and he was obliged to shut himself up in his capital with his usual guard and the few subjects on whose fidelity he thought he could depend.

But if virtue, pursued by a superior force, is so often deserted, where are the resources of guilt?

Ispahan is invested, and Balavan, betrayed by his ministers, is delivered up to the Sultan Bensirak, who, turning his eyes from a monster who had dishonoured the throne by the most dreadful crimes, and directing himself to Shaseliman,

"My son," said he, "to you I commit the scourge of your subjects and your father's murderer; dispose of his lot, and give orders for his punishment."

"O my benefactor! O my father! it belongs not to me to dispose of him," replied Shaseliman; "vengeance must come down from above. Let him go to the frontiers to guard that dangerous post with which I was entrusted. If he is innocent, he will be preserved as I have been; but if he is guilty, his decree is p.r.o.nounced, and nothing can suspend its execution."

The Sultan approved of the decision of Shaseliman, and Balavan set out to make head against the infidels. But divine justice was now prepared to inflict its stroke. He was taken, chained, and thrown into the fatal well, where gnawing remorse and dreadful despair continued to torment him till the moment of his death.

Meanwhile the presumptive heir of the Persian crown, the happy Shaseliman, seated on the throne of his ancestors, received the oaths of his people. He commenced a reign of which the wisdom and piety recalled to the Persians the sublime virtues of the Grand Caliph Moavie. The Sultan of Egypt, after having seen this young Sovereign s.h.i.+ne in the splendour of the most distinguished virtues, and having tenderly embraced him, returned to his dominions, and by his presence completed the joy of Chamsada. Nothing afterwards disturbed the repose of this happy pair, and having reached at last the term allotted to human greatness, they fell asleep in that peace which is the portion of faithful Mussulmans.

"Sire," said Aladin to King Bohetzad, after having finished his recital, "see by what secret and wonderful ways Providence delivered Shaseliman from the hands of persecution! See how it led Balavan into the very gulf he had dug for another! No, Allah will never suffer guilt to triumph and innocence to be punished. His vigilance and justice nothing can escape, and sooner or later He will tear asunder the veil with which the wicked are covered. As for me, sire, encouraged by my conscience and convinced that man cannot alter the decrees of my destiny, I am always firm and hopeful. I only fear that your justice will light on your Viziers, my accusers."

At this discourse, equally firm, wise, and modest, the King was left still more irresolute than ever.

"Let the execution of the sentence be suspended," said he; "let this young man be conducted back to prison. The silence of the night, and the reflections which his recital will occasion, may enlighten my judgment, and to-morrow I shall more easily take my resolution."

As soon as Aladin had been led back to his dungeon, one of the Viziers began:

"Sire, your Majesty suffers yourself to be overcome by the magic of this young impostor's discourses. The great Prophet preserve you from yielding to sentiments of mercy in his behalf! When guilt remains unpunished, the splendour of the throne is obscured. You are seated there for no other purpose but to administer justice: the crime of this villain is evident, and his punishment ought to be signal; the most awful should be fixed upon, that it may serve as an example to such."

"Let orders be immediately given," interrupted Bohetzad eagerly, "to erect a scaffold without the walls of the city, on the most elevated situation. Let the dread of death terrify those who might attempt to follow his footsteps. Such is my final resolution, and let it be announced to the people by the public criers."

The ten Viziers were well pleased to hear this resolution. They hoped at length, by their secret plots, to make the object of their envy fall beneath the sword of justice, and were eager to order the apparatus of punishment.

On the morning of the following day, which was the eleventh since the confinement of Aladin, the ten Viziers went to the King.

"Sire," said they, "your orders are obeyed; your pleasure is known, and the people a.s.sembled round the spot wait only for him who is to die there."

Bohetzad gave orders that the criminal should be brought to him. As soon as he appeared the ten Viziers lifted up their voices against him.

"Wretch! offspring of villains!" said they to him, "the scythe of death is raised over thy head; thy stratagems are exhausted, and thou art about to receive the reward of thy crimes and rashness."

"Audacious ministers," said Aladin, looking at them with a confident but modest air, "it belongs not to you to mark my forehead with the seal of death! If the decree which strikes me comes not from Heaven, what could all your attempts avail? Guilt alone can be afraid of them.

But since I have nothing wherewith to reproach myself, had I even my head under the fatal sword, I should be preserved from the stroke, like the slave who was accused although innocent."

"Sire," interrupted all the Viziers at once, "impose silence on this audacious fellow; he wishes still to deceive your Majesty by a new tale."

"I wish not to impose upon the King," said Aladin; "it is you who cherish falsehood and imposture."

"Stop!" said Bohetzad to him; "I will yet put my patience to a last effort, and agree to hear the history of your slave and of his deliverance."

"Oh, the clemency of my King!" replied Aladin. "May truth at length reach your heart, which is so difficult of access! I wish not by a false relation to deceive your Majesty; the story I am going to relate is well known throughout all Chaldea."

HISTORY OF THE KING OF HARAM, AND OF THE SLAVE.

The King of Haram, uneasy at the manner in which his Viziers and Cadis administered justice in the provinces of his empire, went one night from his palace disguised, and only escorted by two eunuchs. By chance he pa.s.sed near a dungeon, from whence he heard a plaintive and lamentable voice. He learned that this place served as a prison, in which criminals condemned to death were shut up; and approaching nearer it in order to hear distinctly the doleful accents, which appeared to come from the bowels of the earth, he heard these words:

"O powerful Allah! Thou who watchest constantly over the unfortunate, stooping under the burden of his misery, wilt Thou suffer innocence, falsely accused, to sink under presumptions which a fatal destiny hath heaped upon it? Infinite mercy! none of Thy creatures are insignificant in Thy eyes; Thou hearest the cries of a worm; listen to that of Thy slave; and if my death is not determined by Thy providence, arrest the stroke with which I am threatened."

A silence, interrupted only by sighs, succeeded this prayer. The King of Haram returned to his palace with a heart moved by these lamentations, and a spirit troubled with this adventure. In vain did he seek repose: the idea of the death of an innocent person agitated him, and he only waited the return of day to clear up this mystery.

As soon as the sun had enlightened the earth, he called together his ministers, and described to them the place from which the cries came that had excited his pity. They informed him that the unfortunate person confined in this dungeon was destined to die that very day upon the scaffold. They gave him an account of his trial, from which the crime appeared clear, and two witnesses certified that the slave, whom his Majesty had heard, was the perpetrator of it. The King of Haram could not resist what human justice reckons evidence, and immediately confirmed the order for his execution.

The slave, convicted of the crime, was taken from the dungeon: he walked to punishment with a firm and modest countenance; his hands bound, and his eyes lifted up to Heaven, which was now his only hope.

He was at the foot of the scaffold; the executioners were preparing to strip him of his clothes, when an unexpected noise entirely changed the aspect of this scene of death. A hostile party, having formed the design of making themselves masters of the city, waited until the people, attracted by curiosity to see the execution, should have gone out of it. They hastily quitted the ambuscade in which they were concealed, fell upon the guard, and dispersed it. All those who endeavoured to defend it either fell by the sword or were made prisoners; not one escaped except the unhappy slave who was about to suffer an ignominious death.