Halil the Pedlar Part 6

And through the thin iron shutters which covered the window the Berber-Bas.h.i.+ curiously observed the touching scene!

They were still in the midst of their intoxication of delight when the frequently before-mentioned neighbour of Halil, worthy Musli, thrust his head inside the door, and witnessing the scene would discreetly have withdrawn his perplexed countenance. But Halil, who had already caught sight of him, bawled him a vociferous welcome.

"Nay, come along! come along! my worthy neighbour, don't stand on any ceremony with us, you can see for yourself how merry we are!"

The worthy neighbour thereupon gingerly entered, on the tips of his toes, with his hands fumbling nervously about in the breast of his kaftan; for the poor fellow's hands were resinous to a degree. Wash and scrub them as he might, the resin would persist in cleaving to them. His awl, too, was still sticking in the folds of his turban--sticking forth aloft right gallantly like some heron's plume. Naturally he whose business it was to mend other men's shoes went about in slippers that were mere bundles of rags--that is always the way with cobblers!

When he saw Gul-Bejaze on Halil's lap, and Halil's face beaming all over with joy, he smote his hands together and fell a-wondering.

"There must be some great changes going on here!" thought he.

But Halil compelled him to sit down beside them, and after kissing Gul-Bejaze again--apparently he could not kiss the girl enough--he cried:

"Look! my dear neighbour! she is now my wife, and henceforth she will love me as her husband, and I shall no longer be the slave of my slave.

And this worthy man here is my wife's father. Greet them, therefore, and then be content to eat and drink with us!"

Then Musli approached Janaki and saluted him on the shoulder, then, turning towards Gul-Bejaze, he touched with his hand first the earth and next his forehead, sat down beside Janaki on the cus.h.i.+ons that had been drawn into the middle of the room, and made merry with them.

And now Janaki sent the slave he had brought with him to the pastry-cook's while Musli skipped homewards and brought with him a tambourine of chased silver, which he could beat right cunningly and also accompany it with a voice not without feeling; and thus Halil's bridal evening flowed pleasantly away with an accompaniment of wine and music and kisses.

And all this time the worthy Berber-Bas.h.i.+ was looking on at this junketing through the trellised window, and could scarce restrain himself from giving expression to his astonishment when he perceived that Gul-Bejaze no longer collapsed like a dead thing at the contact of a kiss, or even at the pressure of an embrace, as she was wont to do in the harem, indeed her face had now grown rosier than the dawn.

At last his curiosity completely overcame him, and turning the handle of the door he appeared in the midst of the revellers.

He wore the garb of a common woodcutter, and his simple, foolish face corresponded excellently to the disguise. n.o.body in the world could have taken him for anything but what he now professed to be, and it was with a very humble obeisance that he introduced himself.

"Allah Kerim! Salaam aleik.u.m! G.o.d's blessing go with your mirth. Why, you were so merry that I heard you at the cemetery yonder as I was pa.s.sing. If it will not put you out I should be delighted to remain here, as long as you will let me, that I may listen to the music this worthy Mussulman here understands so well, and to the pretty stories which flow from the harmonious lips of this houri who has, I am persuaded, come down from Paradise for the delight of men."

Now Musli was drunk with wine, Gul-Bejaze and Halil Patrona were drunk with love, so that not one of them had any exception to take to the stranger's words. Janaki was the only sober man among them, neither wine nor love had any attraction for him, and therefore he whispered in the ear of Halil:

"For all you know this stranger may be a spy or a thief!"

"What an idea!" Halil whispered back, "why you can see for yourself that he is only an honest baltaji.[1] Sit down, oh, worthy Mussulman," he continued, turning to the stranger, "and make one of our little party."

The Berber-Bas.h.i.+ took him at his word. He ate and drank like one who has gone hungry for three whole days, he was enchanted with the tambourine of Musli, listened with open mouth to his story of the miserly slippers, and laughed as heartily as if he had never heard it at least a hundred times before.

"And now you tell us some tale, most beautiful of women!" said he, wiping the tears from his eyes as he turned towards the damsel, and then Gul-Bejaze, after first kissing her husband and sipping from the beaker extended to her just enough to moisten her lips, thus began:

"Once upon a time there was a rich merchant. Where he lived I know not.

It might have been Pera, or Galata, or Damascus. Nor can I tell you his name, but that has nothing to do with the story. This merchant had an only daughter whom he loved most dearly. She had ne'er a wish that was not instantly gratified, and he guarded her as the very apple of his eye. Not even the breath of Heaven was allowed to blow upon her."

"And know you not what the name of the maiden was?" inquired the Berber-Bas.h.i.+.

"Certainly, they called her Irene, for she was a Greek girl."

Janaki trembled at the word. No doubt the girl was about to relate her own story, for Irene was the very name she had received at her baptism.

It was very thoughtless of her to betray herself in the presence of a stranger.

"One day," continued the maiden, "Irene went a-rowing on the sea with some girl friends. The weather was fine, the sea smooth, and they sang their songs and made merry, to their hearts' content. Suddenly the sail of a corsair appeared on the smooth mirror of the ocean, pounced straight down upon the maidens in their boat, and before they could reach the nearest sh.o.r.e, they were all seized and carried away captive.

"Poor Irene! she was not even able to bid her dear father G.o.d speed! Her thoughts were with him as the pirate-s.h.i.+p sped swiftly away with her, and she saw the city where he dwelt recede further and further away in the dim distance. Alas! he was waiting for her now--and would wait in vain! Her father, she knew it, was standing outside his door and asking every pa.s.ser-by if he had not seen his little daughter coming. A banquet had been prepared for her at home, and all the invited guests were already there, but still no sign of her! And now she could see him coming down to the sea-sh.o.r.e, and sweep the smooth s.h.i.+ning watery mirror with his eyes in every direction, and ask the sailor-men: 'Where is my daughter? Do you know anything about her?'"

Here the eyes of the father and the husband involuntarily filled with tears.

"Wherefore do you weep? How silly of you! Why, you know, of course, it is only a tale. Listen now to how it goes on! The robber carried the maiden he had stolen to Stambul. He took her straight to the Kizlar-Aga whose office it is to purchase slave-girls for the harem of the Padishah. The bargaining did not take long. The Kizlar-Aga paid down at once the price which the slave-merchant demanded, and forthwith handed Irene over to the slave-women of the Seraglio, who immediately conducted her to a bath fragrant with perfumes. Her face, her figure, her charms, amazed them exceedingly, and they lifted up their voices and praised her loudly. But when Irene heard their praises she shuddered, and her heart died away within her. Surely G.o.d never gave her beauty in order that she might be sacrificed to it? At that moment she would have much preferred to have been born humpbacked, squinting, swarthy; she would have liked her face to be all seamed and scarred like half-frozen water, and her body all diseased so that everyone who saw her would shrink from her with disgust--better that than the feeling which now made her shrink from the contemplation of herself."

Then they put upon her a splendid robe, hung diamond ear-rings in her ears, tied a beautiful shawl round her loins, encircled her arms and feet with rings of gold, and so led her into the secret apartment where the damsels of the Padishah were all gathered together. This, of course, was long, long ago. Who can tell what Sultan was reigning then? Why, even our fathers did not know his name.

"Pomp and splendour, flowers and curtains adorned the immense saloon, the ceiling whereof was inlaid with precious stones, while the floor was fas.h.i.+oned entirely of mother-o'-pearl--he who set his foot thereon might fancy he was walking on rainbows. Moreover, cunning artificers had wrought upon this mother-o'-pearl floor flowers and birds and other most wondrous fantastical figures, so that it was a joy to look thereon, for no carpet, however precious, was suffered to cover all this splendour.

Yet lest the cold surface of the pavement should chill the feet of the damsels, rows of tiny sandals stood ready there that they might bind them upon their feet and so walk from one end of the room to the other at their ease. And these sandals they called _kobkobs_."

"Aye, aye!" cried the anxious Janaki, "you describe the interior of the Seraglio so vividly that I almost feel frightened. If a man listened long enough to such a tale he might easily get to feel as guilty as if he had actually cast an eye into the Sultan's harem, and 'twere best for him to die rather than do that."

"Is it not a tale that I am telling you? is not the room I have just described to you but a creature of the imagination?--In the centre of this saloon, then, was a large fountain, whence fragrant rose-water ascended into the air sporting with the golden b.a.l.l.s. Along the whole length of the walls were immense Venetian mirrors, in which splendid odalisks admired their own shapely limbs. Hundreds and hundreds of lamps shone upon the pillars which supported the room--lamps of manifold colours--which gave to the vast chamber the magic hues of a fairy palace, and in the midst thereof seemed to float a transparent blue cloud--it was the light smoke of ambergris and spices which the damsels blew forth from their long narghilis. But what impressed Irene far more than all this magnificence, was the figure of the Sultana a.s.seki, to whom she was now conducted. A tall, muscular lady was sitting at the end of the room on a raised divan. Her figure was slender round the waist but broad and round about the shoulders. Her snow-white arms and neck were encircled by rows of real pearls with diamond clasps. A lofty heron's plume nodded on her bejewelled turban, and lent a still haughtier aspect to that majestic form. With her large black eyes she seemed to be in the habit of ruling the whole world."

"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Janaki, "you describe it all so vividly, that I am half afraid of sitting down here and listening to you. You might at least have let a little bit of a veil hang in front of her face."

"But this happened long, long ago, remember! Who can even say under what Sultan it took place?... So they led the slave-girl into the presence of the Sultana, who was surrounded by two hundred other slave-girls, and was playing with a tiny dwarf. They were singing and dancing all around her and swinging censers. Above her head was a large fruit-tree made entirely of sugar, and covered with sugar-fruit of every shape and hue, and from time to time the Sultana would pluck off one of these fruits and taste a little bit of it and give the remainder to the tiny dwarf, who ate up everything greedily. Here Irene was seized by a black eunuch--a horrid, pockmarked man, whose upper lip was split right down so that all his teeth could be seen."

"Just like the present Kizlar-Aga!" cried Musli laughing, "I fancy I can see him standing before me now!"

"The Moor commanded Irene to fall on her face before the Sultana. Irene fell on her face accordingly, and while her forehead beat the ground before the Sultana she muttered to herself the words: 'Holy Mother of G.o.d! protectress of virgins, thou seest me in this place, when I call upon thee, deliver me!' The Sultana, meanwhile, had commanded her handmaidens to let down Irene's tresses, and as she stood before her there covered by her own hair from head to heel, she bade them paint her face red because it was so pale, and her eyelashes brown. She commanded them also to salve her hair with fragrant unguents, and to hang chains of real pearls about her arms and neck. Irene knew not the meaning of these things. She knew not what they meant to do with her till the Kizlar-Aga approached her, and said these words to her in a rea.s.suring tone: 'Rejoice, fortunate damsel! for a great felicity awaits thee. In a week's time it will be the Feast of Bairam, and the favourite Sultana has chosen thee from among the other odalisks as a gift for the Padishah. Rejoice, therefore, I say.' But Irene at these words would fain have died. And in the meantime the Sultana had placed a large fan in her hand made entirely of pea-c.o.c.ks' feathers, and permitted her to sit down by her side and hold the little dwarf in her lap. At a later day Irene discovered that this was a mark of supreme condescension.

During the next six days the damsel lived amidst mortal terrors. Her companions envied her. The damsels of the harem do not love each other, they can only hate. Every day she beheld the Sultan, whose gentle face inspired involuntary respect, but the very idea of loving him filled her soul with horror. The Sultan spent the greater part of his time with his favourite wife, but it happened sometimes that he cast a handkerchief towards this or that odalisk, which was a great piece of good fortune for her, or the reverse--it all depends upon the point of view. The damsel whom the Grand Seignior seemed to favour the most was a beautiful blonde Italian girl; on one occasion this beautiful blonde damsel neglected to cast her eyes down as they chanced to encounter the eyes of the Sultana. The following day Irene could not see this damsel anywhere, and on inquiring after her was told by her bedfellow in a whisper that she had been strangled during the night. And oftentimes at dead of night the silence would be broken by a shriek from the secret dungeon of the Seraglio, followed by the sound of something splas.h.i.+ng into the water, and regularly, on the day following every such occurrence, a familiar face would be missing from the Seraglio. All these victims were self-confident slave-girls, who had been unable to conceal their joy at the Sultan's favours, and therefore had been cast into the water. n.o.body ever inquired about them any more."

Janaki s.h.i.+vered all over.

"It is well that this is all a tale," he observed.

But Gul-Bejaze only continued her story.

"At last the Feast of Bairam arrived, and throughout the day all the cannons on the Bosphorus sent forth their thunders. In the evening the Sultan came to the Seraglio weary and inclined to relaxation, and then the Sultana a.s.seki took Irene by the hand and conducted her to the Padishah, and presented her to him, together with gold-embroidered garments, preserved fruits, and other gifts intended for his delectation. The Grand Seignior regarded the girl tenderly, while she, like a kid of the flocks offered to a lion in a cage, stood trembling before him. But when the Sultan seized her hand to draw her towards him she sighed: 'Blessed Virgin!'--and lo! at these words her face grew pale, her eyes closed, and she fell to the ground as one dead. This was not the first time that such a spectacle had been seen in the harem.

Everyone of the damsels brought thither generally commenced with a fainting-fit. The slave-girls immediately came running up to her, rubbed her body with fragrant unguents, applied penetrating essences to her face, let icy-cold water trickle down upon her bosom--and all was useless! The damsel did not awaken, and lay there like a corpse till the following morning--in fact, she never stirred from the spot where they laid her down. Next day the Padishah again summoned her to his presence.

He spoke to her in the most tender manner. He gave her all manner of beautiful gifts, glittering raiment, necklaces, bracelets, and diamond aigrettes. The slave-girls, too, censed her all around with stupefying perfumes, bathed her in warm baths fragrant with ambergris and spikenard, and gave her fiery potions to drink. But it was all in vain.

At the name of the Blessed Virgin, the blood ceased to flow to her heart, she fell down, died away, and every resource of ingenuity failed to arouse her. The same thing happened on the third day likewise. Then the Sultana a.s.seki's wrath was kindled greatly against her. She declared that this was no doing of Allah's as they might suppose. No, it was the damsel's own evil temper which made her pretend to be dead, and she immediately commanded that the damsel should be tortured. First of all they extended her stark naked on the icy-cold marble pavement--not a sign of life, not a s.h.i.+ver did she give. Then they held her over a slow fire on a gridiron--she never moved a muscle. Then they sent and sought for red ants in the garden among the puspang-trees and scattered them all over her body. Yet the girl never once quaked beneath the stings of the poisonous insects. Finally they thrust sharp needles down to the very quicks of her nails, and still the damsel did not stir. Then the Sultana a.s.seki, full of fury, seized a whip, and lashed away at the damsel's body till she could lash no more, yet she could not thrash a soul into the lifeless body."

"By Allah!" cried Halil, smiting the table with his heavy fist at this point of the narration, "that Sultana deserves to be sewn up in a leather sack and cast into the Bosphorus."

"Why, 'tis only a tale, you know," said Gul-Bejaze, stroking mockingly the chin of worthy Halil Patrona, and then she resumed her story. "The Sultan commanded that Irene should be expelled from the harem, for he had no desire to see this living corpse anywhere near him, and the Sultana gave her as a present to the Padishah's nephew, the son of his own brother.

"The prince was a pale, handsome youth, as those whom women love much are generally wont to be. He was kept in a remote part of the Seraglio, for although every joy of life was his, and he was surrounded by wealth, pomp, and slave-girls, he was never permitted to quit the Seraglio. The Sultana herself led Irene to him, thinking that the fine eyes of the handsome youth would be the best talisman against the enchantment obsessing the charms of the strange damsel. The pale prince was charmed with the looks of the girl. He coaxed and flattered. He begged and implored her not to die away beneath his kisses and embraces. In vain.

The girl swooned at the very first touch, and he who touched her lips might just as well have touched the lips of a corpse. The prince knelt down beside her, and implored her with tears to come to herself again.

She heard not and she answered not. At last the fair Sultana a.s.seki herself had compa.s.sion on his tears and lamentations which produced no impression on the dead. Her heart bled for him. She bent over the pale prince, embraced him tenderly, and comforted him with her caresses. And the prince allowed himself to be comforted, and they rejoiced greatly together; for of course there was n.o.body present to see them, for the senseless damsel on the floor might have been a corpse so far as they were concerned."

"Hum!" murmured the Berber-Bas.h.i.+ to himself, "this is a thing well worth remembering."

"On the following day the pale prince made a present of Irene to the Grand Vizier. The Grand Vizier also rejoiced greatly at the sight of the damsel; took her into his cellar, showed her there three great vats full of gold and precious stones, and told her that all these things should be hers if only she would love him. Then he took and showed her the mult.i.tude of precious ornaments that he had concealed beneath the flooring of his palace, and promised these to her also. For every kiss she should give him, he offered her one of his palaces on the sh.o.r.es of the Sweet Waters, yes, for every kiss a palace."

"I would burn all these palaces to the ground!" cried Halil impetuously.