As to Ram-naráin, overawed by the very name of an Emperor, and intimidated by the fame of his Mogul troops, he made haste to conclude his agreement with the Shah-zada; and without informing himself of the wretched condition of those troops, or of the characters of their Commanders, he went to see the Prince; but it was to repent himself immediately, as we shall soon see hereafter. This resolution having taken possession of his mind, he sent for me, and going into a private closet, he desired me to repair to the Western army, and to endeavour by the mediation of my father, to gain the mind of the Prince, and to open a door for some terms of agreement; (and doubtless he had already sent another person to Mahmed-c8li-qhan on a similar errand, of which, however, I knew nothing, but by con­jecture). He recommended to me not to disclose this desire of his to Radja M8rly-dur, or to any other person whatsoever; and he added to the injunction a very respectful message to my father, “where putting me in mind, at the same time, how he had renewed his acquaintance with his family, by the late services he had rendered me, he supplicated my father’s favourable interference in the consecution of his wish.” He was yet speak­ing, when Mustepha-c8li-qhan, brother to Mirza-iredj-qhan, father-in-law to Seradj-ed-döula, suddenly made his appearance. As he had had heretofore full liberty to enter, without being either stopped or introduced; and people even, after that Prince’s death, did not choose to make any alteration in their behaviour to him; he was not stopped by any mace-bearers, but went on through all the apartments, until he found the Radja and me in a close conversation by ourselves. He at once guessed what might be the subject of it; and the Radja unwilling to disoblige him, and thereby to expose his secret, took at once the party of disclosing the whole matter, and of associating him to me, in the negotiation. Turning therefore, towards me, “sir,” said he, “you shall explain all those matters to the Lord-qhan; but take care to keep clear of the encampment of Radja M8rly-dur, which is the foremost of all on your way. Take to the road of Baky-p8r.” Mustepha-c8li-qhan, after receiving this commission, came out with me to my tent, spoke much of his skill in politics, and talked strongly of the improbability of any army being likely to come from Bengal, as well as of the concourse of people that flocked from all parts to the Shah-zada’s quarters. He said all that, in hopes of my reporting his opinion to the Prince; and he even made it a request. A little after, there arrived a small sum from Ram-naráin, for the charges of my journey. It was brought by a trusty man of his.

My voyage being now determined, I wrote a note to my two younger brothers, and sent notice of it to my mother. Both my brothers availed themselves of that opportunity to kiss their father’s feet; and came to me, desiring to be of the voyage. I consented; we took, at first, to the road of Baky-p8r; but struck, afterwards, into that which led to the Prince’s camp. In the way, we met numbers of harcarahs and messengers, that carried to town hourly intelligence of the Shah-zada’s motions. Being The author on an embassy to the Shah-zada, or Imperial Prince. arrived about Arvel, I descried a man on an elephant, with a retinue of an hundred horses; it was Medar-ed-döula, who was going from the Shah-zada on an embassy to Ram-naráin. I could not help being amazed to see that, with such a man in camp as my father, who was well known in the province, and universally respected, they should pitch upon a stranger for such a message. One of the troopers having asked of my people who I was, and whither I was going; these answered by mentioning the poor man’s name, as well as that of my brother’s, to which they added that of my father’s. A moment after, a messenger came up from Medar-ed-döula, with his compliments, and some enquiries about my welfare and health; to which civility I made a suitable return; and then we advanced to Shimshir-nagar. There I was surprised to hear, that Naky-aaly-qhan, my other brother, had gone to meet my glorious father, upon that nobleman’s request; and I could not help lamenting, that he had made himself obnoxious to the Navvab of Bengal, by such a hasty step. About two hours before sunset, we descried from afar the Shah-zada’s army, which covered a plain that extended eastward of Da8d-nagar; but it was two hours after sunset, before we had the honour of kissing the paternal threshold.

A number of questions were exchanged between us, and this took up a deal of time. It soon appeared that His Highness, our father, a nobleman naturally haughty, and accustomed to command, had already declined behaving to Mahmed-c8li-qhan with that deference and that obsequiousness to which Medar-ed-döula and Munnir-ed-döula had soon submitted; and he had therefore become a stranger to all transactions. And, indeed, how could it be otherwise, whilst that General was the soul of the army, and governed absolutely the Prince and his whole Court? Mahmed-c8li-qhan had been the contriver of all this expedition —he was the soul of it; and the Prince, as well as every one of his people, were depending upon him for their very daily food, as well as for their hopes of victory and conquest. Surprised at such a state of things, and at a conduct so distant from the rules of prudence, I took the liberty to observe to His Highness, my father, “That if such was the state of things, he had come so far only to see a very unpleasant reserve in the leading persons of the Court; and a series of events, that might end in undoing our welfare, and in producing the confiscation of our landed estate, which last we had not been able to obtain without much trouble and much good luck.” I asked “What could be then the advantage of such a long journey, after such a length of time? And since His Highness had retired from the helm, and affairs had fallen into the hands of people without brains and without experience, it was to be feared lest the expedition should not end so well as might be wished.” These indirect strictures did not please His Highness, and he answered in a manner which discovered his secret displeasure at what I had taken the liberty to hint; nevertheless it appeared, that “he was convinced of the truth of my observation, as well as affected by his own situation; but that now that he had embarked in the undertaking, it was too late to recede; nor could that be done at all, without a proper opportunity; nor could it be expected, that Mahmed-c8li-qhan would choose to submit to his directions and advice.” Such was the purport of his answer; but what looks very curious is, that as the Prince was exceedingly light-headed, and often guilty of unaccountable proceediṅgs, every proceeding of his that did not please Mahmed-c8li-qhan, never failed to be charged to my illustrious father’s account, and to that of those that were of his party. In a couple days after this interview, my forgiven father took me in his company, and went with Munnir-ed-döula to see Mahmed-c8li-qhan; and as this General chanced to glance at some matters of discontent that affected his mind, he was answered in so proper a manner, and with such suitable excuses, that he seemed satisfied on that subject; but, however, he did not seem to relish my entering into a negotiation with him, as it would have been highly improper to exclude at that particular juncture the persons which had hitherto been employed in negotiating with Ram-naráin; and still more so, to change them for others, especially at a time when Mirza-issac, the Cashmirian, (styled Mir-c8li-qhan) by whose means the negotiation had been carried on, had much power over the General’s mind, who trusted altogether to his own abilities and penetration. However, the negotiation did not end well; and whether by the negotiator’s supineness, or by his master’s reposing, through ignorance and inexperience, an implicit confidence in his agent, Mahmed-c8li-qhan came at last to lose his pains, his dominions and his life.

“He that sits at your elbow, ought to be even better than yourself;
He ought to be such as may contribute to the improvement of both your intellects and morals.”

The reader, probably, will not find fault with our giving him some detail on that subject. Radja Ram-naráin having, as we have said, taken fright at the very name of Emperor, and at the fame of his troops, quitted the garden where he had encamped in the middle of his way, and retired within the city walls; where he applied himself to every measure that could strengthen the towers, and repair the whole extent of their circuit; appoint­ing those Commanders, which he chiefly trusted, to the guard of the most exposed parts; and he was hardly seated, when hear­ing that Medar-ed-döula and Mirza-issac were approaching, as deputies from Mahmed-c8li-qhan, he sent to desire them to alight at a lodging which had been prepared for their reception; it was without the gates of the city, and at a distance from even the suburbs. From thence they received leave to come to see him; and they were admitted within the gates, with a small number of menial servants, and three or four of their friends on horse­back. The Embassadors, after passing many encomiums upon him, opened the subject of their commissions, and held out the advantages that would accrue to him by attaching himself to the Shah-zada and to his General, to whom both they proposed his paying a visit. This overture could not fail to have its effect; and as Ram-naráin, already overcome by his fears, had resolved to come to some terms, it was soon agreed, that he would wait upon them, and submit to their dominion, under condition that his life, fortune and Government would be held sacred and inviolable. But before he should perform his part of the agree­ment, he requested a paper written and sealed by Mahmed-c8li-qhan, as well as signed by the principal officers of his army, as guarantees to the treaty. The Embassadors upon this, returned to camp, and brought back the papers under Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s hand and seal, and under the guarantee of his principal Com­manders. Ram-naráin being now made easy, and no intelligence coming yet of any troops being on their march from Bengal, he resolved to make a visit to Mahmed-c8li-qhan, as a prepara­tory step, to his kissing the footstool of the Imperial throne. In an hour, which his astrologers pronounced to be favourable, Faithless pro­posal made by our author, rejected with indignation by his father, and by the General, and the whole army. he set out for the camp in company with the Embassadors, and the persons sent by Mahmed-c8li-qhan to meet him; and he landed in that General’s tent, pitched on the plain of P8lvary. The Shah-zada hearing of his coming, prepared by Mahmed-c8li-qhan’s advice, a tent of as much magnificence, as his cir­cumstances could afford; and he placed a throne at the upper end of it, where he took up his seat, having on both sides of him, two rows of his Generals and Grandees standing, and all richly apparelled. It may be worthwhile to observe, that the day before Ram-naráin’s arrival, I happened to be with my father, and to say, that the Radja was extremely shrewd and cunning; and, “that as he had submitted to come so far, merely on the report of the Imperial power, and on the fame of Ab8l-mans8r-qhan’s troops, it was probable, that after having got a view of the weakness and misery under which they laboured in camp, he might repent of his submission so far, as to never return to camp, should he once get within the city again. That therefore, as he was forthcoming, and such a step of his ought to be deemed a most lucky event, he ought to be prevented from getting out of their power.” This speech of mine had a very bad effect. The old nobleman, who had no influence himself, seemed displeased with this advice, and he answered, “that to this day the house of Timur had never been faithless to any one.” I replied, “that I proposed no treason, neither; but only thought it incumbent upon him to stand to the terms of the treaty concluded, and therefore very proper to keep the Radja in camp, until the General should enter into the city in his company; a step which might inform the world that he had really submitted and joined you; and which would likewise render the Bengal army more cautious of advancing to the assistance of a man that had already surrendered.” To all this he answered, that Mahmed-c8li-qhan was the master. On this answer, “I proposed that he should impart the advice to that General.” He replied, that as the General never asked any advice of him, so he had not the least inclination to obtrude any upon him. At these words I lost my temper, and could not help saying, that, “if such was the case, then honour and character would suffer, and be gone; nor would they leave behind in their stead, anything but repentance. Since your Highness,” added I, “would not choose to be hearty in this affair, you ought to have taken no share in it at all.” To all this he answered by some angry words, and I remained silent. The next morning being the day appointed for Ram-naráin’s rendering his homage to the Prince, I went in my father’s com­pany to the hall of Imperial audience, and had a full view of the whole ceremony. At last news came that the Radja was arrived, and in a private conference with Mahmed-c8li-qhan; at the conclusion of which, he would be conducted to the presence by that General himself. This intelligence put me upon proposing my advice to Munnir-ed-döula, and to some others. But every one excused himself upon his want of influence. Whilst I was speaking, Mahmed-c8li-qhan himself was descried, walking slowly with the Radja at his side. He left him at the outer door, and having advanced forwards, and made a profound bow, he took his post as Vezir, at the Prince’s left hand;* after him stood Byram-qhan, Medar-ed-döula, and Yahia-qhan, with a few other noblemen that had come with the Vezir. My father in his right of Paymaster-General, stood at the Prince’s right hand, and immediately after him stood Munnir-ed-döula, then myself; next to me a number of noblemen and Generals of the Prince’s Court. The General on getting in his place, com­menced mentioning Radja Ram-naráin, and making his eulogium. “He is” said he, “a Gentoo very intelligent, and of a conciliating mind. He speaks Persian grammatically, and, there appears so much sense and wisdom in everything he says, that I have made him my Divan, and my Deputy at Ilah-abad.” The Prince, whether from having heard of my proposal, or from his own good sense, answered in these very words: As you have been so very little time together, how does it happen that he is become your trusty man at once? On this Medar-ed-döula answered, by passing a general encomium upon the Radja’s fidelity, and upon his attachment and zeal to the Imperial service. At these words Mirza-issac, intent on cutting some figure at any rate; broke forth and enumerated anew all his good qualities; and he went so far as to pledge himself for his fidelity and his submission to the Imperial pleasure. These noble persons, gained by two or three thousand rupees spread amongst them with some other presents, had lent a willing ear to the Radja’s ambiguous promises, and to his general professions, and of course, were now unanimous and profuse in his encomiums. This was very natural; but what could be the reason why neither the Prince, nor the General, nor any one well-wisher to their cause, had ever thought of putting this plain question to the Cashmirian? Suppose that the Radja, after returning into his fortress, should refuse to come out again, (as in fact he did) you that pledge yourself for the man’s fidelity and submission, how shall you make him per­form his promise, or bring him out again? This man has been faithless to his master; and you, a Cashmirian, pretend to pledge yourself for his zeal and attachment!

“Where the eagle is losing its feathers,
What can be expected from its starving young one?”