This answer overcame Mehta-djesvent’s reluctance. He bore in the world a great character for both valour and bodily strength; and finding himself challenged, and his character at stake, he was, against his own inclination, obliged to stand forth; but, however, to bring matters upon a par, he quitted his horse and spear, advanced on foot, and engaged. Mehdy-nesser-qhan on seeing him within reach, gave him a violent stroke on the neck, which was parried only in part; and this was the time to finish him with another stroke; but his vigour was supported by none of his people; else, it is indubitable that had Djesvent-nagur been slain, the enemies would have been struck with terror, as they were already looking behind; nor had Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s people anything more to do than to move to his assistance, in which case there is no doubt but the enemy would have given way. But none moved; so far were they from such an exertion, that whilst Mehdy-nessar-qhan was actually engaged, he was observed to look back, and to say such a one, I did not expect that from thee. Whilst the two combatants were advancing against each other (and this was close to a spot called the Hadji’s corner), one Mir-ashruff, an officer of note and a great friend of Mehta-djesvent’s, came out of a door close to Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s left, and he called out to that hero, advising him to retire. The other having not only answered in an angry tone and with foul language, but also forbidden him to coming near, if he valued his own life, the man shocked at the tone and expression, fell back a little; and taking a circuit, he came suddenly behind, and gave that hero a back stroke of his sabre upon both legs, which threw him on the ground; and then only that heroical man, whose head deserved a Crown, then only was he finished by Mehta-djesvent. On sight of this, Seradj-ed-döulah, who was a rank coward, turned briddle and fled full speed, taking to the street that lead to Mustapha-c8ly-qhan’s lodgings; and his people at the same time sheltered themselves, every one into some corner. At a little distance behind Mehdy-nessar-qhan fell two or-three persons, much wounded with musquet-balls, amongst which was one Mirza-sanghy, a descendant of one of the saints revered by Séif-qhan; and he accompanied that brave man into the regions of eternity. Mehta-djesvent, although much wounded and with the blood streaming from his cheek and neck, accompanied rather than pursued Seradj-ed-döulah to Mustapha-c8ly-qhan’s lodgings, being fearful of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s resentment; and this nobleman hearing of the Prince’s coming, advanced on foot out of his gate, and received him with great respect, sparing nothing either in personal attendance or in anything else, that might render his abode agreeable. So that Mehta-djesvent having seen the Prince safe, recommended him to the Qhan, and returned to his lodgings. As to Mehdy-nessar-qhan’s body, now lying lifeless, Djankiram had the meanness to order that high-born head of his to be severed from the body, and the latter to be hung at the eastern gate; but on a representation from some officers of his own troops, he gave leave for its being taken down, and then purified, and inhumed with the accustomed rites and decence. The valorous and unfortunate Séyd was buried in his glorious father’s monument, which is in a corner of Lon-gola, where also they buried, but without the monument, the few men that had fallen by his side.
Verse:
“Such is the end of everything in this world; such it is.” |
May God Almighty’s forgiveness rest upon him; and may he have obtained a place amongst his pious and intrepid ancestor’s! Amen. Djankiram having seen Mehdy-nessar-qhan dead, and heard that Seradj-ed-döulah was safe, thought he had come in the world a second time; and like one that had recovered a new life, he went into the castle, and there sat in all the pride of success and self-applause.
Whilst all this was happening at Azim-abad, Aaly-verdy-qhan was arriving about Bar, all the while in the most excruciating fears about what might have befallen the object of his love. He had made haste with all the impatience of an impassionate lover; and his heart fluttered like a moth at the near approach of the flame emitted by that beautious face of his beloved one. Arrived at Bar, he learned what had happened; and now commencing to respire with freedom, he sent Seradj-ed-döulah a message full of love and tenderness. This was carried by Séyd-assed-ollah-qhan, a nobleman of consequence, who had accompanied the Viceroy in this voyage. The Qhan who was a man of sense, executed his commission in a manner that soothed and gained Seradj-ed-döulah’s mind, hitherto much alienated from his uncle; and the young Prince expressed a desire of seeing his venerable ancestor. The intelligence overpowered the old man; on hearing that his darling had set out on his journey, he lost his usual temper of mind, and betrayed all the levity of the most youthful joy and the most unruly exultation; and matters came so far that this mountain of seriousness and gravity became as light and as unsteady as a feather exposed to the wind. So that he betrayed such signs of restlessness as surprised every one of those that knew him this longwhile. He was endlessly speaking of his beloved; and where he might be now; and how far he night have advanced this evening; and where he might be to-morrow; nor was anything else to be had from his mouth. But when he heard that the young man was arriving, his exultation overleapt all bounds. Unable to contain himself any more, he ordered the wall of his tent-yard to be thrown down, that he might descry from afar the object of his love; and as soon as he saw his Paleky set down, he prostrated himself on the ground, to acknowledge his arrival as a special favour from the Almighty. Seradj-ed-döulah having drawn near, alighted, and marching with a quick pace,* he hastened to throw himself at his grandfather’s feet. The old man threw both his arms round his neck, and drawing him to his bosom, he kept him close to it for a length of time with all the emotions of the most enthusiastic tenderness; after which he prostrated himself again and returned a long thanksgiving for so signal a benefit. A moment after he made him mount with him, and proceeded to the city of Azim-abad, where amongst throngs of a multitude that loved his person, and were attached to his family, he alighted at one of those buildings raised by Seradj-ed-döulah’s father, on the shore of the Ganga, and he sat on a Mesned there, giving audience to all comers. But as Seradj-ed-döulah continued incensed against Djankiram for what he called his boldness, and for what the other had been forced to by the duties of his station, Aaly-verdy-qhan himself took the part of an intercessor, and sent him to the young Prince, with injunctions to implore his forgiveness. The young Prince out of regard to his grandfather’s intercession, received him with condescendence, and dismissed him with honour. This reconciliation having pacified every one, and there appearing no reason in the world for tarrying in those parts, the Viceroy, whose thoughts were now engrossed by his army, which he had left at Midnip8r, under Generals which he did not trust, resolved to return immediately; and he therefore sent for Djankiram, gave him a dress of confirmation, and taking Seradj-ed-döulah with him, he set out for M8rsh8d-abad. But the old man who had hitherto been a prey to all the agitations of a distracted mind, was now seized by a hot fever, which in a few days rose to an alarming height; nor was there in those parts any other physician of character, but Doctor Tadj-eddin, who immediately received orders to accompany him; and he did not spare his care and attendance. Aaly-verdy-qhan impatient to reach the end of his journey, was hastening down the river by boat; but as none was so well acquainted with his constitution as the honourable, the illustrious and respectable Doctor Haddi-qhan the Hashemite, neveu to that seal and complement of Doctors, the reservoir of physicial and philosophical learning, the Galen of his time, Doctor Oluvi-qhan; he sent a trusty person to request his attendance; and that illustrious Qhan having immediately set out, overtook his noble patient at Radjemahl, where he so sedulously applied all the strength of his art to that important cure, that he prevented the fever from doing more mischief, and kept it under controul; in so much that the Viceroy arrived at his palace in the height of his distemper. But such was his confidence in his physician, Haddy-aaly-qhan, that he left entirely in his disposal everything that could pertain to the use of simples or compounds, resolved to do nothing without consulting him; and it must be acknowledged that this Plato of his time was endowed with a breath as healing as that of the Messiah,* and had not his equal in the art of administering remedies and restoring health. In a little time the Prince’s distemper took to its decline, and he recovered apace. After his recovery, that lover of learning and that rewarder of merit, honoured the illustrious Qhan with a Qhylaat of the first rank, a Serpich and a Djica of jewels, an elephant of surprising bigness, mounted with his Háodah, and a sum of five thousand rupees. From that period, he made it a point to rise and stand up on his coming to see him; and not satisfied with that mark of respect, he conferred upon him several honourific distinctions of the highest kind; and moreover ordered that he should ride in Paleky in any part of the palace, without alighting anywhere, but close to the rails of the Terrasse adjoining the hall of audience; a distinction granted to none but to his two sons-in-law, and to Seradj-ed-döulah, his grandson; and these three Princes also were ordered to stand up for him. Aaly-verdy-qhan, on the day he was permitted to bathe,* ordered sums of money to be distributed to Séyds and to necessitous families of all sorts; and although the rains were not drawing to their end, and he had no apprehension of any incursion or ravage from the Marhattas; nevertheless, as his body continued for a long time in a state of great weakness, he wrote to Radja D8l8bram, and to Mir-djaafer-qhan, to inform them that at the end of the rains, the victorious standards would not fail to take the road of Midnip8r.