Read here

Popular tales

Maria Edgeworth · 1853 · Scanned text

101,210 words · about 7 h 5 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
About this edition

Scanned text — may contain errors · view original scans

Licence: PD · Library of Congress states the book is in the public domain and free to use and reuse (https://data.labs.loc.gov/digitized-books/README.html); published 1853, author long deceased · Library of Congress, Selected Digitized Books (https://www.loc.gov/item/22010835); text via the Common Pile (CC BY 4.0 compilation, per-document rights preserved)

Text from Library of Congress, read from page scans by OCR and set out for reading on screen; no words of the book are rewritten or summarized. How RedLectern is built

About this book

Author
Maria Edgeworth
Language
English
Published
1853
Length
101,210 words · about 7 h 5 min
Sections
17 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain

 

Contents (17)
  1. Front matter under 1 min
  2. Preface about 2 min
  3. Chapter I about 25 min
  4. Chapter II about 17 min
  5. Chapter III about 20 min
  6. Chapter I about 34 min
  7. Chapter II about 1 h 17 min
  8. Chapter III about 13 min
  9. Chapter IV about 37 min
  10. Chapter V about 22 min
  11. Chapter VI about 23 min
  12. Chapter I about 1 h 2 min
  13. Chapter II about 16 min
  14. Chapter III about 15 min
  15. Chapter IV about 18 min
  16. Chapter V about 20 min
  17. Chapter VI about 25 min

Continue:

Front matter

i

£e?cS rtl r5

EM |H

Preface

Some author says that a good book needs no apol¬ ogy ; and as a preface is usually an apology, a book enters into the world with a better grace without one. I, however, appeal to those readers who are not glut¬ tons, but epicures, in literature, whether they do not wish to see the bill of fare. I appeal to monthly critics whether a preface that gives a view of the pretensions of the writer is not a good thing. The author may overvalue his subject, and very naturally may overrate the manner in which it is treated; but still he will explain his views, and facilitate the use¬ ful and necessary art which the French call reading with the thumb. We call this hunting a book ,—a term certainly invented by a sportsman. I leave the reader to choose which he pleases, while I lay before him the contents and design of these volumes.

Burke supposes that there are eighty thousand readers in Great Britain,—nearly one-hundredth part of its inhabitants ! Out of these we may calculate that ten thousand are nobility, clergy, or gentlemen of the learned professions. Of seventy thousand readers which remain, there are many who might be amused and instructed by books which were not

IV

PREFACE.

professedly adapted to the classes that have been enumerated. With this view the following volumes have been composed. The title of Popular Tales has been chosen, not as a presumptuous and prema¬ ture claim to popularity, but from the wish that they may be current beyond circles which are sometimes exclusively considered as polite.

The art of printing has opened to all classes of people various new channels of entertainment and information. Among the ancients wisdom required austere manners and a length of beard to command attention; but in our days, instruction in the dress of innocent amusement is not denied admittance among the wise and good of all ranks. It is therefore hoped that a succession of stories adapted to different ages, sexes, and situations in life will not be rejected by the public unless they offend against morality, tire by their sameness, or disgust by their imitation of other writers.

RICHARD LOVELL EDGEWORTH.

Edgeworth's Town , Feb. 1804.

MURAD THE UNLUCKY.

Chapter I

It is well known that the grand seignior amuses himself by going at night, in disguise, through the streets of Constantinople; as the caliph Haroun Alraschid used formerly to do in Bagdad.

One moonlight night, accompanied by his grand vizier, he traversed several of the principal streets of the city, without seeing any thing remarkable. At length, as they were passing a rope-maker’s, the sultan recollected the Arabian story of Cogia- Hassan Alhabal, the rope-maker, and his two friends Saad and Saadi, who differed so much in their opinion concerning the influence of fortune over human affairs.

“ What is your opinion on this subject ?” said the grand seignior to his vizier.

“ I am inclined, please your majesty,” replied the vizier, “ to think that success in the world de-

POPULAR TALES.

pends more upon prudence than upon what is called luck, or fortune.”

“ And I,” said the sultan, “ am persuaded that fortune does more for men than prudence. Do you not every day hear of persons who are said to be fortunate or unfortunate? How comes it that this opinion should prevail among men, if it be not justified by experience ?”

“ It is not for me to dispute with your majesty,” replied the prudent vizier.

“ Speak your mind freely; I desire and com¬ mand it,” said the sultan.

“ Then I am of opinion,” answered the vizier, “ that people are often led to believe others for¬ tunate, or unfortunate, merely because they only know the general outline of their histories; and areignorant of the incidents and events in which they have shown prudence or imprudence. I have heard, for instance, that there are at present in this city two men, who are remarkable for their good and bad fortune: one is called Murad the Unlucky, and the other Saladin the Lucky . Now I am in¬ clined to think, if we could hear their stories, we should find that one is a prudent and the other an imprudent character.”

“ Where do these men live ?” interrupted the sultan. “ I will hear their histories, from their own lips, before I sleep.”

“ Murad the Unlucky lives in the next square,” said the vizier.

The sultan desired to go thither instantly. Scarcely had they entered the square, when they heard the cry of loud lamentations. They fol¬ lowed the sound till they came to a house of which the door was open; and where there was a man tearing his turban, and weeping bitterly. They asked the cause of his distress, and he pointed to the fragments of a china vase, which lay on the uavement at his door.

“ This seems undoubtedly to be beautiful china,” said the sultan, taking up one of the broken pieces; “ but can the loss of a china vase be the cause of such violent grief and despair ?”

“ Ah, gentlemen,” said the owner of the vase, suspending his lamentations, and looking at the dress of the pretended merchants, “ I see that you are strangers: you do not know how much cause I have for grief and despair! You do not know that you are speaking to Murad the Unlucky! Were you to hear all the unfortunate accidents that have happened to me, from the time I was born till this instant, you would perhaps pity me, and acknowledge I have just cause for despair.”

POPULAR TALES.

Curiosity was strongly expressed by the sultan ; and the hope of obtaining sympathy inclined Murad to gratify it, by the recital of his adventures. “ Gentlemen,” said he, “ I scarcely dare invite you mto the house of such an unlucky being as I am; but, if you will venture to take a night’s lodging under my roof, you shall hear at your leisure the story of my misfortunes.”

The sultan and the vizier excused themselves from spending the night with Murad; saying that they were obliged to proceed to their khan, where they should be expected by their companions ; but they begged permission to repose themselves for half an hour in his house, and besought him to re¬ late the history of his life, if it would not renew his grief too much to recollect his misfortunes.

Few men are so miserable as not to like to talk of their misfortunes, where they have, or where they think they have, any chance of obtaining com¬ passion. As soon as the pretended merchants were seated, Murad began his story in the following man¬ ner :

“ My father was a merchant of this city. The night before I was born, he dreamed that I came into the world with the head of a dog and the tail of a dragon; and that, in haste to conceal my aefomrity, he rolled me up in a piece of linen, which unluckily proved to be the grand seignior’s turban; who, enraged at his insolence in touching his tur¬ ban, commanded that his head should be struck off.

“ My father awaked before he lost his head; but not before he had half lost his wits from the terror of Ills dream. He considered it as a warning sent from above, and consequently determined to avoid the sight of me. He would not stay to see whether I should really be born with the head of a dog and the tail of a dragon ; but he set out the next morn¬ ing on a voyage to Aleppo.

“ He was absent for upwards of seven years; and during that time my education was totally ne¬ glected. One day, I inquired from my mother why I had been named Murad the Unlucky ? She told me that this name was given to me in conse¬ quence of my father’s dream; but she added, that perhaps it might be forgotten, if I proved fortunate in my future life. My nurse, a very old woman, who was present, shook her head, with a look which I shall never forget, and whispered to my mother, loud enough for me to hear, 4 Unlucky he was, and is, and ever will be. Those that are born to ill luck cannot help themselves: nor can any but the great prophet Mahomet himself do any

POPULAR TALES.

thing for them. It is a folly for an unlucky per¬ son to strive with their fate; it is better to yield to it at once.’

“ This speech made a terrible impression upon me, young as I then was ; and every accident that happened to me afterward confirmed my belief in my nurse’s prognostic. I was in my eighth year when my father returned from abroad. The year after he came home my brother Saladin was born, who was named Saladin the Lucky, because the day he was bom a vessel freighted with rich mer¬ chandise for my father arrived safely in port.

“ I will not weary you with a relation of all the little instances of good fortune by which my brother Saladin was distinguished, even during his child¬ hood. As he grew up, his success in every thing he undertook was as remarkable as my ill luck in all that I attempted. From the time the rich ves¬ sel arrived, we lived in splendour: and the sup¬ posed prosperous state of my father’s affairs was of course attributed to the influence of my brother Saladin’s happy destiny.

“When Saladin was about twenty, my father was taken dangerously ill; and as he felt that he should not recover, he sent for my brother to the side of his bed, and, to his great surprise, informed

MURAD THE UNLUCKY.

him that the magnificence in which we had lived had exhausted all his wealth ; that his affairs were in the greatest disorder ; for, having trusted to the hope of continual success, he had embarked in pro¬ jects beyond his powers.

“ The sequel was, he had nothing remaining to leave to his children but two large china vases, re¬ markable for their beauty, but still more valuable on account of certain verses inscribed upon them in an unknown character, which were supposed to operate as a talisman or charm in favour of their possessors.

“ Both these vases my father bequeathed to my brother Saladin; declaring he could not venture to leave either of them to me, because 1 was so un¬ lucky that I should inevitably break it. After his death, however, my brother Saladin, who was blest with a generous temper, gave me my choice of the two vases; and endeavoured to raise my spirits, by repeating frequently that he had no faith either in good fortune or ill fortune.

“ I could not be of this opinion; though I felt and acknowledged his kindness in trying to per¬ suade me out of my settled melancholy. I knew it was in vain for me to exert myself, because I was sure that, do what I would, I should still be 2

POPULAR TALES.

Murad the Unlucky. My brother, on the contrary, was nowise cast down, even by the poverty in which my father left us: he said he was sure he should find some means of maintaining himself, and so he did.

“ On examining our china vases he found in them a powder of a bright scarlet colour; and it occurred to him that it would make a fine dye. He tried it, and after some trouble it succeeded to ad¬ miration.

“ During my father’s lifetime, my mother had been supplied with rich dresses by one of the mer¬ chants who was employed by the ladies of the grand seignior’s seraglio. My brother had done this mer¬ chant some trifling favours; and, upon application to him, he readily engaged to recommend the new scarlet dye. Indeed it was so beautiful that the mo¬ ment it was seen it was preferred to every other colour. Saladin’s shop was soon crowded with customers; and his winning manners and pleasant conversation were almost as advantageous to him as his scarlet dye. On the contrary, I observed that the first glance at my melancholy counte¬ nance was sufficient to disgust every one who saw me. I perceived this plainly; and it only con¬ firmed me the more in my belief in my own evil des¬ tiny.

“ It happened one day that a lady, richly appa¬ relled, and attended by two female slaves, came to my brother’s house to make some purchases. He was out, and I alone was left to attend to the shop. After she had looked over some goods, she chanced to see my china vase, which was in the room. She took a prodigious fancy to it, and offered me any price if I would part with it ; but this I declined doing, because I believed that I should draw down upon my head some dreadful calamity if I volun¬ tarily relinquished the talisman. Irritated by my refusal, the lady, according to the custom of her sex, became more resolute in her purpose; but neither entreaties nor money could change my de¬ termination. Provoked beyond measure at my ob¬ stinacy, as she called it, she left the house.

“ On my brother’s return I related to him what had happened, and expected that he would have praised me for my prudence: but, on the contrary, he blamed me for the superstitious value I set upon the verses on my vase; and observed that it would be the height of folly to lose a certain means of ad¬ vancing my fortune, for the uncertain hope of ma¬ gical protection. I could not bring myself to be of his opinion; I had not the courage to follow the advice he gave. The next day the lady returned,

POPULAR TALES.

and my brother sold his vase to her for ten thou¬ sand pieces of gold. This money he laid out in the most advantageous manner, by purchasing a new stock of merchandise. I repented when it was too late ; but I believe it is part of the fatality at¬ tending certain persons, that they cannot decide rightly at the proper moment. When the oppor¬ tunity has been lost, I have always regretted that I did not do exactly the contrary to what I had pre¬ viously determined upon. Often, while I was hesi¬ tating, the favourable moment passed.* Now this is what I call being unlucky. But to proceed with my story.

“ The lady who bought my brother Saladin’s vase was the favourite of the sultan, and all-power¬ ful in the seraglio. Her dislike to me, in conse¬ quence of my opposition to her wishes, was so vio¬ lent, that she refused to return to my brother’s house while I remained there. He was unwilling to part with me; but I could not bear to be the ruin of so good a brother. Without telling him my design, I left his house, careless of what should become of me. Hunger, however, soon compelled me to think of some immediate mode of obtaining relief. I sat

* “ Whom the gods wish to destroy they first deprive of understanding.”

MURAD THE UNLUCKY.

down upon a stone before the door of a baker’s shop: the smell of hot bread tempted me in, and with a feeble voice I demanded charity.

“ The master baker gave me as much bread as I could eat, upon condition that I should change dresses with him, and carry the rolls for him through the city this day. To this I readily con¬ sented ; but I had soon reason to repent of my com¬ pliance. Indeed, if my ill luck had not, as usual, deprived me at the critical moment of memory and judgment, I should never have complied with the baker’s treacherous proposal. For some time be¬ fore the people of Constantinople had been much dissatisfied with the weight and quality of the bread furnished by the bakers. This species of discon¬ tent has often been the sure forerunner of an in¬ surrection; and in these disturbances the master bakers frequently lose their lives. All these circum¬ stances I knew; but they did not occur to my me¬ mory when they might have been useful.

“ I changed dresses with the baker ; but scarcely had I proceeded through the adjoining street with my rolls, before the mob began to gather round me, with reproaches and execrations. The crowd pur¬ sued me even to the gates of the grand seignior’s palace; and the grand vizier, alarmed at their vio- 2 *

POPULAR TALES.

lence, sent out an order to have my head struck off; the usual remedy in such cases being to strike off the baker’s head.

“ I now fell upon my knees, and protested I was not the baker for whom they took me; that I had no connexion with him; and that I had never fur¬ nished the people of Constantinople with bread that was not weight. I declared I had merely changed clothes with a master baker for this day; and that I should not have done so, but for the evil destiny which governs all my actions. Some of the mob exclaimed that I deserved to lose my head for my folly; but others took pity on me, and while the officer who was sent to execute the vizier’s order turned to speak to some of the noisy rioters, those who were touched by my misfortune opened a pas¬ sage for me through the crowd, and thus favoured I effected my escape.

“ I quitted Constantinople : my vase I had left in the care of my brother. At some miles’ distance from the city I overtook a party of soldiers. I joined them ; and learning that they were going to embark with the rest of the grand seignior’s army for Egypt, I resolved to accompany them. If it be, thought I, the will of Mahomet that I should perish, the sooner I meet my fate the better. The despondency into which I was sunk was attended by so great a degree of indolence that I scarcely would take the necessary means to preserve my existence. During our passage to Egypt, I sat all day long upon the deck of the vessel, smoking my pipe; and I am convinced that if a storm had rise», as I ex¬ pected, I should" not have taken my pipe from my mouth: nor should I have handled a rope to save myself from destruction. Such is the effect of that species of resignation or torpor, whichever you please to call it, to which my strong belief in fa¬ tality had reduced my mind.

“ We landed, however, safety, contrary to my melancholy forebodings. By a trifling accident, not worth relating, I was detained longer than any of my companions in the vessel when we disem¬ barked ; and I did not arrive at the camp at El Arish till late at night. It was moonlight, and I could see the whole scene distinctly. There was a vast number of small tents scattered over a desert of white sand; a few date-trees were visible at a distance; all was gloomy, and all still; no sound was to be heard but that of the camels feeding near the tents ; and as I walked on I met with no human creature.

“ My pipe was now out, and I quickened my

POPULAR TALES.

pace a little towards a fire, which I saw near one of the tents. As I proceeded, my eye was caught by something sparkling in the sand : it was a ring.

I picked it up, and put it on my finger, resolving to give it to the public crier the next morning, who might find out its rightful owner : but by ill luck I put it on my little finger, for which it was much too large; and as I hastened towards the fire to light my pipe, I dropped the ring. I stooped to search for it among the provender on which a mule was feeding; and the cursed animal gave me so violent a kick on the head that I could not help roaring aloud.

“ My cries awakened those who slept in the tent near which the mule was feeding. Provoked at being disturbed, the soldiers were ready enough to think ill of me; and they took it for granted that I was a thief, who had stolen the ring I pretended to have just found. The ring was taken from me by force; and the next day I was bastinadoed for having found it: the officer persisting in the belief that stripes would make me confess where I had concealed certain other articles of value, which had lately been missed in the camp. All this was the consequence of my being in a hurry to light my pipe, and of my having put the ring on a finger

MURAD THE UNLUCKT. 21

that was too little for it; which no one but Murad the Unlucky would have done.

“ When I was able to walk again after my wounds were healed, I went into one of the tents distinguished by a red flag, having been told that these were coffee-houses. While I was drinking coffee I heard a stranger near me complaining that he had not been able to recover a valuable ring he had lost; although he had caused his loss to be published for three days by the public crier, offering a reward of two hundred sequins to whoever should restore it. I guessed that this was the very ring which I had unfortunately found. I addressed my¬ self to the stranger, and promised to point out to him the person who had forced it from me. The stranger recovered his ring ; and being convinced that I had acted honestly, he made me a present of two hundred sequins as some amends for the punishment which I had unjustly suffered on his account.

“Now you would imagine that this purse of gold was advantageous to me: far the contrary; it was the cause of new misfortunes.

“ One night, when I thought that the soldiers who were in the same tent with me were all fast asleep, I indulged myself in the pleasure of counting

POPULAR TALES.

my treasure. The next day I was invited by my companions to drink sherbet with them. What they mixed with the sherbet which I drank I know not: but I could not resist the drowsiness it brought on. I fell into a profound slumber; and, when I awoke, I found myself lying under a date-tree, at some distance from the camp.

“ The first thing I thought of, when I came to my recollection, was my purse of sequins. The purse I found still safe in my girdle ; but on open¬ ing it, I perceived that it was filled with pebbles, and not a single sequin was left. I had no doubt that I had been robbed by the soldiers with whom I had drunk sherbet; and I am certain that some of them must have been awake the night I counted my mo¬ ney : otherwise, as I had never trusted the secret of my riches to any one, they could not have sus¬ pected me of possessing any property; for, ever since I kept company with them, I had appeared to be in great indigence.

“ I applied in vain to the superior officers for re¬ dress : the soldiers protested they were innocent; no positive proof appeared against them, and I gained nothing by my complaint but ridicule and ill-will. I called myself, in the first transport of my grief, by that name which, since my arrival in

Egypt, I had avoided to pronounce : I called my¬ self Murad the Unlucky! The name and the story ran through the camp; and I was accosted after¬ ward, very frequently, by this appellation. Some indeed varied their wit, by calling me Murad with the purse of pebbles.

“ All that I had yet suffered is nothing compared to my succeeding misfortunes.

“ It was the custom at this time in the Turkish camp for the soldiers to amuse themselves with firing at a mark. The superior officers remon¬ strated against this dangerous practice,* but inef¬ fectually. Sometimes a party of soldiers would stop firing for a few minutes, after a message was brought them from their commanders ; and then they would begin again, in defiance of all orders. Such was the want of discipline in our army, that this disobedience went unpunished. In the mean time, the frequency of the danger made most men totally regardless of it. I have seen tents pierced with bullets, in which parties were quietly seated smoking their pipes; while those without were pre¬ paring to take fresh aim at the red flag on the top.

“ This apathy proceeded, in some, from the un-

* Antis’s Observations on the Manners and Customs of the Egyptians.

POPULAR TALES.

conquerable indolence of body ; in others, from the intoxication produced by the fumes of tobacco and opium ; but in most of my brother Turks it arose from the confidence the belief in predestination in¬ spired. When a bullet killed one of their com¬ panions, they only observed, scarcely taking the pipes from their mouths, ‘ Our hour is not yet come ; it is not the will of Mahomet that we should

fell.’

“ I own that this rash security appeared to me at first, surprising; but it soon ceased to strike me with wonder; and it even tended to confirm my favourite opinion, that some were born to good and some to evil fortune. I became almost as careless as my companions, from following the same course of reasoning. It is not, thought I, in the power of human prudence to avert the stroke of destiny, I shall perhaps die to-morrow; let me therefore enjoy to-day.

“ I now made it my study, every day, to procure as much amusement as possible. My poverty, as you will imagine, restricted me from indulgence and excess ; but I soon found means to spend what did not actually belong to me. There were certain Jews, who were followers of the camp, and who, calculating on the probability of victory for our troops, advanced money to the soldiers ; for which they engaged to pay these usurers exorbitant in¬ terest. The Jew to whom I applied traded with me also upon the belief that my brother Salad in, with whose character and circumstances he was acquainted, would pay my debts, if I should fall. With the money I raised from the Jew I continually bought coffee and opium, of which I grew immode¬ rately fond. In the delirium it created, I forgot all my misfortunes, all fear of the future.

44 One day, when I had raised my spirits by an unusual quantity of opium, I was strolling through the camp, sometimes singing, sometimes dancing, like a madman, and repeating that I was not now Murad the Unlucky. While these words were on my lips, a friendly spectator, who was in possession of his sober senses, caught me by the arm, and at¬ tempted to drag me from the place where I was exposing myself. 4 Do you not see,’ said he, ‘ those soldiers, who are firing at a mark ? I saw one of them, just now* deliberately taking aim at your turban; and, observe, he is now reloading his piece.’ My ill luck prevailed even at this instant, the only instant in my life when I defied its power. I struggled with my adviser, repeating, 4 1 am not the wretch you take me for ; I am not Murad the 3

POPULAR TALES.

Unlucky.’ He fled from the danger himself: I re¬ mained, and in a few seconds afterward a ball reached me, and I fell senseless on the sand.

“ The ball was cut out of my body by an awk¬ ward surgeon, who gave me ten times more pain than was necessary. He was particularly hurried at this time, because the army had just received or¬ ders to march in a few hours, and all was confusion in the camp. My wound was excessively painful, and the fear of being left behind with those who were deemed incurable added to my torments. Per¬ haps, if I had kept myself quiet, I might have es¬ caped some of the evils I afterward endured; but, as I have repeatedly told you, gentlemen, it was my ill fortune never to be able to judge what was best to be done till the time for prudence was past.

“ During that day, when my fever was at the height, and when my orders were to keep my bed, contrary to my natural habits of indolence, I rose a hundred'times and went out of my tent, in the very heat of the day, to satisfy my curiosity as to the number of tents which had not been struck, and of the soldiers who had not yet marched. The orders to march were tardily obeyed; and many hours elapsed before our encampment was raised. Had I submitted to my surgeon’s orders, I might have been in a state to accompany the most dilatory of the stragglers; I could have borne, perhaps, the slow motion of a litter, on which some of the sick were transported ; but in the evening, when the surgeon came to dress my wounds, he found me in such a situation that it was scarcely possible to remove me.

The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.

Loading the full text…