CHAP. XVIII.
 
STORY OF
 
The Merchant’s Daughter.

* THERE was a destitute youth, who took up his abode in a certain city, about which he strolled in search of that mere support for which human nature has no alternative. From want of acquaintance, the inhabitants of the city attended but little to his petitions; and though he requested to be entrusted with the meanest offices, and engaged in the lowest employments, he could not succeed; which occasioned him the sharpest distress. After a long time and tedious interval, a charitable old man, by trade a confectioner, commiserating his poverty, entrusted him with the charge of lighting his stoves, and supplied him with bread as a reward. The poor wretch, regarding this as the highest blessing, exerted himself with the utmost diligence in his office, in hopes of encouragement; and the old man, impressed by his unceasing attendance, and strict fidelity, at length introduced him from the confinement of meanness into the ample space of distinction. Appointing him his foreman, he committed to his direction the management and controul of his household affairs, and presented him with a suit of handsome raiment.

When he was grown sleek and comely from good living, he began to give himself airs, assumed consequence; and thinking himself even superior to his master, presumed to put himself on a footing with the head of the trade: who being enraged, complained of his inso­lence to his employer; saying, “Thou, notwithstanding thy respectable situa­tion and claims of cast, hast never yet set up pretences of equality; how comes it then that thy deputy, (who but yesterday was only a lighter of thy stoves) puts himself on a footing with me? I will not draw the pen of for­giveness over his crimes, until, being convinced of his improper conduct, he lay hold of the stirrup of entreaty. I regard it incumbent upon thee to reprove him. Take care, then, or thou shalt not be secure from my displeasure.” The good old man made excuses to his chief, pleading the ignorance of the youth; whom he called to him in private, and honoured with the costly pearls of admonition; saying,

“My son, dear as life, to vaunt thyself on equality with thy superiors, and to imagine thyself, notwithstand­ing thy low origin, of consequence, is a clear proof of ignorance; for vanity will not attain thee the pillow of dignity. Unless thou canst produce all the requisite proofs of honour, never again presume to behave so haughtily and unbecomingly, for the displeasure of our chief cannot be profitable.

VERSE.
“I inform thee, that the aged speak from experience.
“Take care, my son, and before thou art old listen to advice.”

The ungracious youth, according to the maxim, that the innately vicious are attached to no one, having seized this occasion for a means of rupture, obsti­nately took the money of dismission in his palm, and breaking the chains of long kindnesses, and the just claims of the old man to advise him, committed himself to the highway of ingratitude. He retired into the quarter of the mer­chants, and after some days, becoming from distress seated in the dust of poverty, knocked at the door of beggary.By lucky chance for him, the daughter of a rich merchant, admiring his hand­some figure, without proving his intrinsic value on the touchstone of experiment, or weighing his merits in the scales of trial, tied herself to him in the knot of marriage. Sometime after the union, the vain young man having uttered many speeches on the high descent, dignity and wealth of his family, urged his wife to accompany him to his own country. The lady’s head became filled with the desire of visiting the lands of her husband, of presiding over his house­hold, and laying the foundations of ease and luxury; but above all of continuing to enjoy his personal charms. She asked her father’s consent through some friends; but as her request met not with acceptance, she rashly, in the darkness of night quitting her paternal mansion, accompa­nied her husband in travel. After a journey of some days, having passed over a long tract, they reached a wilderness, where the scent of population greeted not the perception. The wife now exclaimed, “What spot can this be, where mankind, like the phoenix, is unseen. From thirst, my throat is dried up, and my tongue almost inca­pable of utterance; for God’s sake direct me to some water, for my soul is at my lips.”

The young man replied, “Despair not, and for a little longer cast not patience from thy skirt. Near this is a spot very populous and flourishing, abounding in all sorts of fruits, and every desireable production. Through every quarter of it flow rivulets, clear as Sulsubbeel and Tunseem;* on the banks of which are gardens of flow­ers and shrubs fragrant and blooming, so that you will esteem it as a model of paradise and the abode of the blessed. There is the residence of my parents. We shall soon reach it, and repose from the fatigue of travel.”

The wife, pleased by this description, though she had scarcely the power of motion in her limbs, made shift to advance. When some distance was mea­sured, a miserable village appeared in sight, whose wretched huts presented themselves to view. The wife exclaimed, “Ah husband, this village has neither garden, nor orchard, nor stream. Surely it must be the habitation of barbarism, which to civilized man must give a thousand disgustful sen­sations.” The young man replied, “Woman, it has greater beauties and perfections than I have already men­tioned; why dost thou, who hast not seen it, foolishly extend the tongue of audacity against it?”

In short, the young man having seated his wife at the foot of a tree, continued; “According to ancient usage among our tribe, all my relations and friends will come to meet thee with drums and trumpets; and hav­ing presented to thee robes and valuable jewels, will conduct thee with all honour and respect to our dwelling; where, having prepared a costly feast, they will spend the day in music and banqueting till the evening. Stop therefore a few moments under this tree, that I may inform them of thy approach.” The wife, captivated by the soothing speeches of her husband, sat down, and he speeded with swift­ness towards the village.

An hour had not elapsed, when the sound of drums and trumpets struck the ears of the wife, and she perceived at a distance a crowd of men and women advancing, singing and dancing. The unfortunate woman now became impatient for the promised jewels and ornaments, and anxious to meet the females and relations of her husband’s family. At length, some savage-looking men, of stern aspect, and butcher-like minded, ran up, and seizing her, tore off her cloaths, and stripped her naked as the dead arising to judgment. Her cries and lamentations had no effect. At length, hawing tied her with cords, they shaved her hair, and having made a sort of scaffold of bamboo, bound her upon it extended at full length. All the com­pany now returned towards the village; excepting two archers with poisoned arrows, who remained in ambush, as if expecting prey. The poor woman was nearly exhausted by pain and terror, and lay on the scaffold almost without sense or motion.

In half an hour after this, a monster-like bird, of immense size and wondrous form, which struck the beholder with panic, descended from the air. His wings appeared as the shadowy branches of a vast tree, and his beak like the trunk of an elephant. From the horrible noise of his screams, the bird of sensa­tion deserted the nest of humanity. Seizing the fate-devoted woman in his beak, he soared aloft. The cords with which she was bound burst asun­der easily as the spider’s web, and the scaffold being rent in pieces, fell to the ground.

The two concealed archers now let fly their poisoned arrows, which lodged in the wings of the monster, but with­out disabling him. The bird had soared, probably an hundred fersungs through the air, when he became faint from the effect of the poison, descended towards the earth, and at length alighted on an island. His weakness encreasing, he loosed the woman from his beak, and at the same instant let fall from his mouth an emerald of oblong shape, of such beauty, size, and lustre, that you would suppose the most skilful lapidaries and expert polishers had with all their art cut it into elegant form. No sooner had he done this, than the bird of his life deserted her cage, as if the emerald had been his last breath.

The unfortunate woman, wearied and exhausted, remained for some time senseless; but at length being somewhat revived, found herself alone upon a desert island, her body clotted with blood, no friend or consoler near, and destitute of food. She however returned thanks to God for her escape from the mon­strous bird, took up the stone (which indeed had been the cause of all her miseries), and, weeping and wailing, walked feebly onwards, in order that she might find some place of repose, and be secured from wild beasts.

When she had proceeded, according to guess, about two fersungs, the golden-winged bird, the sun, had reached his western nest, and night hung her sable mantle over the horizon. The helpless female, through fear of her life, crept into the hollow of a rock, and was con­cealed. At this time, from excess of hunger, she became afflicted with painful craving. The cold air, damp dews, nakedness, and the agonizing pain of her wounds, afflicted her; while soli­tude and forlornness made her condition deplorable beyond measure. All night did she lift up her hands in prayer at the throne of the Reliever of Wants, who is the saviour of those in peril, and Redresser of the complaining, beseeching deliverance from the whirlpool of despair and sea of distress; — but no signs of the acceptance of her petitions appeared.