Читать книгу Veiled Women - Marmaduke William Pickthall - Страница 10

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Meanwhile the anguish of the lady Fitnah had become unbearable. The beating she had received, which kept her silent, was only part of the injustice which prevailed against her. She alone, she had assurance, was vouchsafed clear vision of the horror of this marriage; all the rest were drugged and blinded by the creature’s spells. She had heard of Frankish women, who were barren, holding men entranced for life, thus ending families; and had no doubt at all but this was one of them. A woman of volcanic passions, always righteous, for her to look on evil was to seek to slay it.

She said, “The fiend will suck my Yûsuf’s life out and then vanish.”

Her group of flatterers replied:

“Alas, yes! She will suck him as one sucks an orange, and go her way refreshed,” giving the sad mother a distracting picture of her first-born as an empty orange-skin flung in the gutter among other refuse.

She cried, “By Allah! she shall die!”

The sycophants replied, “Yes, by thy blessed womb, she shall—an awful death,” and began to meditate the form that death should take.

“But she has islamed,” one objected.

“Who knows if she has really islamed?” was the answer. “Our lord the Pasha is bewitched. He has forgone in her case every ordeal that might test her faith. It is ascertained that she is barren and will drink the bridegroom’s life. Woe! Woe! The end of a most noble race!”

Inspired by hatred of iniquity, fanned and encouraged by her little court, the anguished mother had made sure arrangements for the English girl’s dishonour, thinking no crime to vilify so bad a thing. The scheme, alas! had been frustrated by the eunuchs; whose vigilance redoubled the poor lady’s grief. What dreadful magic must reside in that foul creature to make the Pasha guard her like a pearl? to make poor Yûsuf cling to her and shun his mother? Her cronies recommended her to summon negresses, of those who have familiar intercourse with demons, and hold the mystic ceremony called a zâr—the latest novelty. But Fitnah Khânum feared the Pasha, who denounced such consolations as against religion. She was in despair. The hours flew by towards the wedding; and she, perceiving all its horror, had no power to stop it.

On the very morning of the day appointed for the final ceremonies, she received two visitors, not in her own room, but in a dirty closet used for rubbish. The first to enter was the same old woman who had lured Barakah from her chamber with the name of Yûsuf. The second, throwing off the veil, revealed a goatish face with pointed ears beneath a foul white skull-cap. It was Abu Sumûm, the most renowned of sorcerers.

He spread out his hands and chanted:

“In the name of Allah, Er Rahmân, Er Rahîm,

Who taught the words of might to Suleymân el Hakîm,

And gave the seal of power into his hand,

Lo, here I stand,

Abu Sumûm, your humble servant to command!

Would you love-potions, I can give you those

Will bring the loved one to your feet though walls oppose

And all the doors be guarded by his foes.

Or have you enemies, but name their names

And I will torture them with hellish flames.

Wouldst thou their death? I’ll write a potent spell

Upon an ass’s thigh-bone, hide it well

Beneath the threshold where they dwell.

Wouldst thou their madness? I will tie their mind

To some low creature of a restless kind,

A bird or fish, that when it moves they rage,

And when it rests their fury they assuage;

And none shall know the secret saving I,

So that for lack of remedy they die.

Abu Sumûm the wily one I am,

State but your need of me and so—Salâm!”

Having concluded this doggerel, setting forth his stock-in-trade, the wizard stood with arms crossed, grinning widely.

“I have an enemy,” faltered the lady, “and she is dreadful, being a ginniyeh, and no child of Adam.”

“Think not to instruct me,” said the warlock. “Nothing uncanny comes to Masr, but my hosts of servants who are in the air inform me instantly. Ah, if it is the Englishwoman thou opposest, have a care, for she is full of art, having attained the secret of invisibility, of self-protection, and also of transforming people into dogs. Now, what, I ask, dost thou require of me exactly—a potion that shall make her love thee, or her madness, or a wasting illness?”

“Nothing, nothing, save her instant death,” sobbed Fitnah—“the wedding is to-day—and then take all my wealth.”

“By thy leave, lady,” cried the wizard, much offended, “I am not him thou seekest! Send for an assassin! My business is with art and not brutality. Find out some chopper-up of wood: I am a carver!”

“But I know of no assassin! How can we women find and bring one hither? O Abu Sumûm, be generous, for Allah’s love!”

“Hear the excellent lady, the very mother of kindness! Hear her, O Abu Sumûm! Behold her sufferings! Grant her petition, for the love of Allah, and our Lord reward thee!” pleaded the old woman who had brought him in.

“I know not. It is not my line of business. And yet, I bethink me, there is art in it,” muttered the sorcerer, relenting visibly—“much art, for she is the most skilful witch on earth; and no one else in Masr, under Allah, could hope to overcome her—Ha! What is this?” He raised his hand to his right ear, and stood intently listening, as if to something just above him in the air. “I thank thee, O Tarshûshak!—What is this?” He turned to Fitnah with a mien of righteous anger. “My servant tells me she has islamed. Is that true? If so, why not inform me at the first? My time is wasted. If she has islamed it is a crime most heinous to assail her. May Allah——”

“Mercy! O my uncle, mercy!” Both the women flung themselves upon the wizard, stopping his mouth and dragging down his arm upraised to curse them. “Wait but a moment! Only listen! They say that she has islamed, being all bewitched. She has not gone through all the ceremonies. She refuses, and our lord the Pasha, by her spells, supports her. Whether or no, she weds to-day my first-born son, and she is barren and will keep him from all other women. Thou shalt have much wealth.”

Again the sorcerer went through the process of relenting visibly. “Allah knows,” he groaned, “it is a cruel task you set me. It will take three days and nights of fasting and seclusion spent in ceaseless study, to overcome her servants who are in the air. Not until they are vanquished can I mix the potion, for they would neutralize my spells and make it harmless.”

“But the wedding is to-day!” wailed Fitnah, out of patience.

“What matter, since her bale is of the lingering sort, and not swift-slaying. Hear what I tell thee! If I fight for thee with demons and obtain the potion, use it not till three whole moons have waxed and waned. Watch how thy son looks; notice his behaviour! It may be she has islamed in good faith.”

“All that thou wishest, only give the potion!”

“After three days thou shalt have it, by the leave of Allah!”

The sorcerer then changed his tone for one of caution, urging, “The reward, O blessed lady! It is worth much money. And it is usual to give something in advance by way of earnest.”

Fitnah untied a bundle which had lain beside her all the while, and thrust it towards him. It contained the best of all her jewels. Poor lady, all her treasures—nay, her life itself—seemed light to give to save her Yûsuf from that thirsty ghoul. The wizard’s small eyes gloated on the heap.

“Woe on thee, Abu Sumûm!” cried the old woman. “Art thou not ashamed to take more than is just from so benevolent and kind a lady? Thy heart is of stone, not to be moved to bounty by her pious tears.”

“Silence, woman!” With a dignified and bounteous gesture, the sorcerer pushed back the bag of trinkets, selecting for himself a single ring containing stones of value. “Allah witness, that I did but test the generosity of our good mistress. But, being poor and with some dreadful work before me—having, moreover, risked my two old ears in coming hither—I will, with thy permission, O Most Excellent, accept this trifle. That and thy gracious favour be my only payment!”

Uprising, he resumed again the woman’s headdress, and in a woman’s piping voice enjoined, as he prepared to go, “Forget not to delay three months. A day too soon might cause tremendous evil.”

“Three months—I will remember!” answered Fitnah dutifully; adding beneath her breath, “Three days—too long! I think thou hast a mind to fool me, O thou father of three months! Well, bring thy potion. But first we will essay some common poison without ceremony. Alas for Yûsuf did we wait three months!”

She pressed both hands to her left side as if it pained her.