This year likewise, and it was at the end of 1165, or at the beginning of the next, Radja Djankiram, the Deputy-Governor of Azim-abad, departed this life, and was succeeded by another Gentoo, Radja Ram-naráan, son to Reng-laal. This latter gentle­man had been from his very youth bred in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, where he had been first Secretary to Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan at the very beginning of his administration; from thence he was appointed Pish-car or precursor or deputy to the Divan of Prime Minister of Bahar; and in Djankiram’s time he rose so high, as to be promoted himself to that high office, in which he exhibited so many abilities in clearing up the accounts of finances, and so much fidelity in managing its receipts and expenditures, that he came to be worthy of no less a station than that of Deputy-Governor of the province of Azim-abad. He received the investiture of it in a rich Qhylaat, to which was added a serpich, a sabre, and an elephant. This promotion of a Gentoo was followed by another. It was that of Radja D8l8bram who in Djankiram, his father’s time, had been Deputy-Divan of the musters at M8rsh8d-abad, and was reputed one of the trust­iest men in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s service. On his father’s death, he received with each of his three brothers a Qhylaat of mourning; and in a few days more he received another that appointed him Divan of the musters in his own sole name; and as he had given the world a great opinion of his abilities and integrity, he was desired by Radja Ram-naráin to act as his Agent-General at the Court of M8rsh8d-abad, and to transact there for him every business that might require a question or an answer, or any other discussion about whatever concerned the administration of Azim-abad.

Aaly-verdy-qhan, now fully employed in pacific occupations that tended to promote the welfare of his people, passed his days pleasantly but regularly. Every day of the week was appointed for some particular business, or some particular object, never to be interfered by any other; a distribution of time which he had always affected, and which greatly contributed to dispatch and regularity. In the winter season he used to repair to Radjmahl, where he enjoyed the pleasures of hunting the stag and the tiger (a diversion of which he was particularly fond), and after having spent his mornings in it, he amused himself with animals fighting together, such as cocks of Decan, and of elephants. At these hunting parties he was always accompanied by his second nephew and son-in-law, Sáyd-mahmed-qhan, who never failed at such times to come down from P8raniah, and some­times dutifully accompanied his uncle as far as M8rsh8d-abad, where he took that opportunity to make a visit to his elder brother, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, as well as to the consort and three sons of his younger brother, the unfortunate Zin-eddin-ahmed-qhan. This year in particular he had a further motive to repair to the capital, where his elder brother and his consort, Biby-Gahassity, were intreating him to listen to the wishes of Nefissa-begum, who wanted to marry Aga-baba, her adoptive son, to one of Sáyd-mahmed-qhan’s daughters; and exerted every nerve to accomplish that end. The Prince had now brought the intended bride, with all his friends, relations and kinsmen, and every preparative relative to the wedding; when lo! the ceremoney was at once suspended by the premature death of Ecram-ed-döulah, younger brother to Seradj-ed-döulah, a youth Death of Ecram-ed-döulah. who had been adopted in his very craddle by his uncle, Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, who never had any child of his own. The infant was bred with the tenderest care under the eyes of his adoptive father, who doated so much upon him, that a stranger would have taken him for the most impassionate lover. He died of the small-pox, which proved so virulent, as to amaze all the beholders. The moment he ceased to be, a general scream and howling, not unlike that which shall rise at the last judgment, broke forth from every part of the palace, and it was echoed by those that rose in Aaly-verdy-qhan’s palace, and in those of all his relations, all of which became inconsolable. This mournful accident having suspended the match, the father with the bride returned to P8rania. This loss made a deep impression on the adoptive father’s heart. He henceforward lost all relish for the world; became restless and often giddy, sour in his temper, negligent in his dress and person, and totally alienated from every thing, but the tender object of his sorrow. In vain did his consort, in vain did his venerable uncle, try every method to reconcile him to life and enjoyment. Numberless pastimes and amusements were daily offered to his sight; all in vain. The inconsolable lord seemed insensible to any other feeling but that of his loss. Some months after, and it was on the day of the sacrifice, that day of rejoicing and fresh clothes for all mankind, he was visited by Aaly-verdy-qhan, who requested, but in vain, some change of apparel on so great a solemnity. The afflicted man proved deaf; and the Viceroy seing in what condition he was, ordered him to be shifted in his very presence; he also directed his consort and all the ladies of his sanctuary to appear in his presence with clothes suitable to so great a day, so as to attract some attention from him by such a spectacle. The man submitted to every­thing; but as soon as he was left to himself, he threw away his turbant, dropped his new clothes, and sat disconsolate in his late squalid apparel, the very picture of desolation and despair. He would strike his hands on his head and face, weep bitterly, and vent his grief in the most piercing lamentations, interrupted now and then by deep sobs. I have been disloyal to my love, did he say, wringing his hands together, I have parted with him; have been a faithless lover, an ungrateful friend, but stay, will repair my neglect—It was in this manner he went on con­suming his days, a prey to grief and unutterable woe. At last it pleased the Almighty comforter of the afflicted to provide some relief for his mind. A lady that had been attached to the deceased young Prince, and had been left pregnant by him, was in a few months brought to bed of a son; and this lucky event was seized on by Aaly-verdy-qhan to alleviate his nephew’s sorrow. In compliment to his grief, the infant was in his very craddle decorated with the rank of six thousand horse, and the title of M8rad-ed-döulah,* or the wished-for of the Empire. No insignia, no mark of elevation and eminence were spared for him; he had his fringed Paleki, his Nagara, (or kettle-drum), his insignia of the fish, his standards, and even his Naleki and Taht-revan, or moving throne. The patents of all these dis­tinctions having been supplicated long ago from the Imperial Court, were now carried by the Viceroy himself to his inconsolable nephew, who struck with the newness of the sight, turned his eyes upon the child, amused himself with its smiles, and by degrees conceived a fondness for him; and no less than such a consolation was requisite to make him go on with his own existence. And now to dignities and sounding titles were added employments. The superintendency of the buildings (which is an office of importance) was conferred on the child; and a retinue of mace-bearers, menial servants, gentlemen-ushers, secretaries, equeries, horses, and camels and elephants, as well as a seraglio, having been provided for him, all proportioned to their lord’s size, the child and its diminutive household being sometimes carried along the streets, afforded a diverting spectacle to the whole city. Some persons of character and distinc­tion having been thought of for superintending his education, and some others for watching over its amusements, or partaking of its pleasures, those offices came to be sought for with a deal of emulation, as being deemed a sure road to preferment. It was in this manner the disconsolate man was beguiling his sorrow and grief; but yet, since the accident that had deprived him of his darling, he seemed to be dead to the world. No life seemed to remain in him; and not only his own person was verging to a sensible decay, but his very family, and indeed, the whole of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s family, was withering visibly from that very time. Doubtless the recording hand of an attentive Providence had entered in its registers the behaviour of Hadji-ahmed to Ser-effraz-qhan’s family, after that Prince’s death, behaviour over­looked by Aaly-verdy-qhan, his brother. Hadji-ahmed had rent the veil, the sacred veil, that hung over the deceased’s inner­most household. He had cast a prying eye throughout his sanctu­ary; had given way to a prophane longing for some ladies of his bed; thrown a criminal hand upon some of them; and carried others away by main force. Nor were all those enormities taken notice of by the Viceroy, his brother, who unaware, or more proba­bly unmindful, of his having become by his victory the supreme Magistrate of the country, had the meanness to wink at such atrocities; and as other excesses and other enormities had been exercised also over the deceased’s children, ladies, family, dependants and private estate; so, a like treatment had been invisibly set apart for the perpetrators; and an avenging Providence, that had minutely recorded every one of those excesses, now came upon the victorious family for a full retribution, and a chastisement in kind. In the zenith of the conqueror’s power, such infamies and lewdnesses came to be practised by some females and other persons of his family, as cannot be mentioned with decency, but effectually dishonoured his family for ever. All his daughters, as well as his beloved Seradj-ed-döulah, lapsed into such a flagitious conduct, and they were guilty of such a variety of shameful excesses, as would have disgraced totally any person whatever, still more, persons of their elevated rank and sublime station. It was this darling of his, this beloved Seradj-ed-döulah, who by running up and down the streets, accustomed himself to hold such vile discourses and to commit such unaccountable actions, as amazed every one. Patrolling every street and every lane with a cohort composed of Aaly-verdy-qhan’s children and grand-children, he fell into an abominable way of life, that respected neither rank, nor age, nor sex, but was calculated to prepare from afar the ruin and desol ation of that sublime building of fortune and sovereignty which its founder had been rearing with so much toil and danger. No notice was taken of so flagitious a conduct; and it was on such repeated connivances that the young man commenced a course of enormities that afforded materials, and administered fuel, to the overtaking vengeance of an unerring observer. This conduct, which Aaly-verdy-qhan overlooked in that infatuated young man, turned out to be so natural in him, that at last he became fearless, and was committing daily excesses and violences of all kinds, not only without the least remorse, but also without the least reprimand. He made a sport of sacrificing to his lust almost every person of either sex, to which he took a fancy; or else, he converted them without scruples into so many objects of the malignity of his temper, or the frolics of his inconsider­ate youth. And having by this time provided himself with a number of followers consonant to his mind, he commenced a course of insolencies, infamies, and profligacies; and either out of that ignorance, incident to that age, or because of an ardour natural to his constitution (although really it was because of his perfect reliance on his uncle’s forbearance), such a course of life became in him his real character. This is so far true, that he was observed to be low spirited and melancholy, whenever he fell short of opportunities to commit his usual excesses and enormities; and they became so customary to him, that he acted all along without a grain of remorse, or a spark of recollection. Making no distinction betwixt vice and virtue, and paying no regard to the nearest relations, he carried defilement wherever he went; and like a man alienated in his mind he made the houses of men and women of distinction the scenes of his profli­gacy, without minding either rank or station. In a little time he became as detested as Pharao. People on meeting him by chance used to say, God save us from him! And his insolence and pride growing to a height by impunity, he set at nought the important services rendered to his uncle and family by both Hossëin-c8ly-qhan, and his brother, Háider-aaly-qhan, and he undertook to put His person detested. them both to death. This was his coup-dessay; and to insure success to his design, he made use of some art to gain the heart of a young man, who having had mighty disputes with the officers employed by Hossëin-c8ly-qhan, Deputy-Governor of the province of Dacca, had come over to M8rsh8d-abad to complain of them, and had found means to lay his case before Nevazish-mahmed-qhan, who concerned himself in his behalf. His name was, Aga-sadyc, and his title, Sadacat-mahmed-qhan, son to Aga-bakyr, a considerable Zemindar of those parts. Seradj-ed-döulah engaged him to return to Dacca in order to kill Hussen-eddin-qhan, nephew to Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, and the latter’s Deputy of Dacca, a young man who for some reasons had fallen into a melancholy, that had disordered his senses. The man did exactly as he was bid. Such a murder committed so bluntly, struck a terror and consternation in the mind of all the inhabitants of that great city, who concluded that an action of that high nature would have never been perpetrated, had not some person of the first rank afforded it countenance. So that every one remained silent, and thoughtful, until it became known that the perpetrator had no order, and no voucher in his hand. He was therefore set upon by the inhabitants and by the friends of Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, who missed the murderer, but by mistake killed his father, Aga-bakyr. The son having escaped so great a danger, fled to M8r­sh8d-abad; and by such a step threw away both his peace of mind, and the safety of his person. This affair was put up with by Seradj-ed-döulah for the present; but it was only for the present; for he soon found means to concern all the members of his family in his resentment; and his grandmother, consort to Aaly-verdy-qhan, went so far, as to ask leave to put to death the two obnoxious brothers, meaning Hussëin-c8ly-qhan, and Háider-aaly-qhan. The old Viceroy, by one of those neglects that cannot be ascribed to anything but an unavoidable fate, contented himself with answering, that such an affair could not be done without Nevazish-mahmed-qhan’s consent.