"I mean that the time has been, when I have had more than one pacha strangled. Yes," continued she, squatting down on the floor, and muttering, "the time has been."

The pacha's rage was now a little appeased. "Mustapha," said the pacha, "let this old woman be carefully guarded; to-morrow afternoon we will understand the meaning of those strange words, 'the time has been.'

Depend upon it, thereby hangs a good story; we will have that first--and then," whispered the pacha, "her head off afterwards."

The old woman, hearing the order to take her into custody, again repeated, "Ah, very well--the time has been." The slaves laid hold of her; but she defended herself so vigorously with her teeth and nails, that they were under the necessity of gagging her, and tying her hand and foot. They then hoisted her on their shoulders: and marched off with her to the palace, followed by Mustapha and the pacha, the latter quite delighted with his adventure. When the divan of the ensuing day had closed, the old woman was ordered to be brought into the presence of the pacha; and as she refused to walk, she was brought on the shoulders of four of the guards, and laid on the floor of the council-chamber.

"How dare you rebel against the sublime commands?" inquired Mustapha with severity.

"How dare I rebel!" cried the old woman with a shrill voice. "Why, what right has the pacha to drag me from my poor hovel; and what can he want with an old woman like me? It's not for his harem, I presume."

At this remark the pacha and Mustapha could not help laughing: having recovered his gravity, Mustapha observed, "One would imagine, old carrion that thou art, that the idea of such a punishment as the bastinado had never entered your mind."

"There you are mistaken, Mr Vizier, for I have suffered both the bastinado and the bowstring."

"The bowstring! Holy Prophet! what a lying old hag!" exclaimed the pacha.

"No lie, pacha, no lie!" screamed the old woman in her wrath. "I have said it--and the bowstring. Yes, the time has been, when I was young and beautiful; and do you know why I suffered? I'll tell you--because I would not hold my tongue--and do you think that I will now, that I'm an old piece of carrion? Yes--yes--the time has been."

"Fortunately, then," replied Mustapha, "you are not required by the pacha to hold your tongue. You are required to do the very contrary, which is, to speak."

"And do you know why I received the bowstring?" screamed the old hag.

"I'll tell you--because I would not speak; and I do not intend so to do now, since I find that you wish that I should."

"Then it appears," said the pacha, taking the pipe out of his mouth, "that the bastinado was as ill managed as the bowstring. We do these things better at Cairo. Hear me, old mother of s.h.i.tan! I wish to know what you mean by that expression which is ever in your mouth, 'time has been.'"

"It means a great deal, pacha, for it refers to my life--you want the story."

"Exactly," replied Mustapha, "so begin."

"You must pay me for it--it is worth twenty pieces of gold."

"Do you presume to make conditions with his sublime highness the pacha?"

exclaimed Mustapha. "Why, thou mother of afrits and ghouls, if thou commencest not immediately, thy carca.s.s shall be thrown over the walls for the wild dogs to smell at, and turn away from in disgust."

"Vizier, I have lived long enough to trust n.o.body. My price is twenty pieces of gold counted out in this shrivelled hand before I begin; and without they are paid down--not _one word_." And the old beldame folded her arms, and looked the pacha boldly in the face.

"G.o.d is great!" exclaimed the pacha. "We shall see." At his well-known signal the executioner made his appearance, and holding up the few scattered grey hairs which still remained upon her head, he raised his scimitar, awaiting the nod which was to be succeeded by the fatal blow.

"Strike, pacha, strike!" cried the old woman scornfully. "I shall only lose a life of which I have long been weary; but you will lose a story of wonder, which you are so anxious to obtain. Strike--for the last time, I say, 'Time has been'--before time shall be no more!"

"That is true, Mustapha," observed the pacha. "I forgot the story.

What an obstinate old devil; but I must hear the story."

"If it appears good to your absolute wisdom," said Mustapha in a low voice, "would it not he better to count down to this avaricious old hag the twenty pieces of gold which she demands? When her story is ended, it will be easy to take them from her, and her head from her shoulders.

Thus will be satisfied the demands of the old woman, and the demands of justice."

"Wallah thaib! it is well said, by Allah! Your words are as pearls.

Count out the money, Mustapha."

"His highness the pacha has been pleased, in consideration of the fear and trembling with which you have entered his presence, to order that the sum which you require shall be paid down," said Mustapha, pulling out his purse from his girdle. "Murakkas, you are dismissed," continued the vizier to the executioner, who let go the old woman, and disappeared. Mustapha counted out the twenty pieces of gold, and shoved them towards the old woman, who after some demur, as if imagining that they ought to have been brought to her, got up and took possession of them. She counted them over, and returned one piece as being of light weight. Mustapha, with a grimace, but without speaking, exchanged it for another.

"By the beard of the Prophet!" muttered the pacha; "but never mind."

The old woman took out a piece of dirty rag, wrapped up the gold pieces, and placing them in her vest, smoothed down her sordid garments, and then commenced as follows:--

"Pacha, I have not always lived in a hovel. These eyes were not always bleared and dim, nor this skin wrinkled and discoloured. I have not always been covered with these filthy rags--nor have I always wanted or coveted the gold which you have just now bestowed upon me. I have lived in palaces--I have commanded there. I have been robed in gold--I have been covered with jewels. I have dispensed life and death--I have given away provinces. Pachas have trembled at my frown--have received by my orders the bowstring--for at one time I was the favourite of the grand sultan. Time has been."

"It must have been a long time ago, then," observed the pacha.

"That is true," replied the old woman; "but I will now narrate my adventures."

STORY OF THE OLD WOMAN.

I was born in Georgia, where, as your highness knows, the women are reckoned to be more beautiful than in any other country, except indeed Circa.s.sia; but, in my opinion, the Circa.s.sian women are much too tall, and on too large a scale, to compete with us; and I may safely venture my opinion, as I have had an opportunity of comparing many hundreds of the finest specimens of both countries. My father and mother, although not rich, were in easy circ.u.mstances; my father had been a janissary in the sultan's immediate employ, and after he had collected some property, he returned to his own country, where he purchased some land and married. I had but one brother, who was three years older than myself, and one of the handsomest youths in the country. He was disfigured a little by a scarlet stain on his neck, somewhat in shape resembling a bunch of grapes, and which our national dress would not permit him to conceal. My father, intending that he should serve the sultan, brought him up to a perfect knowledge of every martial exercise. Even at fourteen years old, few could compete with him in the use of the bow, and throwing the djireed, and as a horseman he was perfect. As for me, I was, I am certain, intended for the sultan's seraglio, for as a child I was beautiful as a houri. My father was a man who would not scruple to part with his children for gold, provided he obtained his price. I was considered, and I believe that I was, the most beautiful girl in the country, and every care was taken that I should not injure my appearance or hurt my complexion by domestic labour or exposure. I was not permitted to a.s.sist my mother, who, induced by my father's orders, waited upon me. I was indulged in every whim, and I grew up as selfish and capricious as I was beautiful. Smile not, pacha--time has been.

One day, when I was about fourteen years old, I was sitting at the porch, when a large body of Turkish cavalry suddenly made their appearance from a wood close to the house, and surrounded it. They evidently came for me, for they demanded me by name, threatening to burn the house down to the ground, if I was not immediately delivered up.

Our house, which was situated near the confines of the country, had been constructed for defence; and my father expecting a.s.sistance from his neighbours, refused to acquiesce to their terms. The a.s.sault was made, my father and mother, with all their household, were murdered, my brother severely wounded, the house plundered and burnt to the outside walls. I was of course a prisoner as well as my brother. He was tied, wounded as he was, upon one horse, and I upon another, and in a few hours the party had regained the frontiers. A young man, handsome as an angel, was the leader of the band, and I soon perceived that all his thoughts and attentions were directed to me. He watched me with the greatest solicitude when we halted, procured me every comfort, and was always hovering about my presence. From the discourse of the soldiers I discovered that he was the only son of the grand vizier at Stamboul. He had heard of my beauty, had seen me, and offered a large sum to my father, who had refused, as his ambition was that I should belong to the sultan--in consequence I had been carried off by force. I could have loved the beautiful youth, although he had murdered my father and mother, but it was the taking me by force which steeled my heart, and I vowed that I never would listen to his addresses, although I was so completely in his power. During the time that I had been in his possession I had never spoken one word, and it came into my head that I would pretend to be dumb. In three weeks we arrived at Constantinople.

Since I had quitted the country I had never seen my brother; his wound was too severe to allow him to travel with the same rapidity, and it was not until years afterwards that I knew what had become of him. I was taken to Osman Ali's house, and allowed a few days repose from the fatigue of the journey; after which, as I was still but a child, I was ordered to be instructed in music, dancing, singing, and every other accomplishment considered necessary for the ladies of a harem. But I adhered to my resolution; every method to induce me to speak was tried in vain; even blows, torture from pinching, and other means were resorted to, but would not induce me to swerve from my resolution; at last they concluded that I was either born dumb, or had become so from fright at the time that the attack and slaughter of my family took place. I was eighteen months in the harem of Osman Ali, and never spoke one word.

"Mashallah! but this is wonderful!" exclaimed the pacha--"a woman hold her tongue for eighteen months! Who is to believe this?"

"Not at all wonderful," replied the old woman, "when you recollect that she was required to speak."

Once, and once only, did I nearly break through my resolution. Two of the princ.i.p.al favourites were conversing in my presence.

"I cannot imagine," said one, "what Ali can see in this little minx to be so infatuated with her. She is very ugly--her mouth is large--her teeth are yellow--and her eyes not only have no expression, but look different ways. She has one shoulder higher than the other, and worse than all, being dumb, cannot be taught any thing but dancing, which only shows her ugly broad feet."

"That is all true," replied the other. "If I was Ali, I should employ her as a common slave; she is fit for nothing but to roll up and beat carpets, boil rice, and prepare our coffee. A little of the slipper on her mouth would soon bring her to her senses."

I must own that I was near breaking through my resolution that I might have indulged my revenge, and had not the door suddenly opened, I should have proved to them, that I could have spoken to some purpose, for never would I have ceased, until they had both been sewn up in sacks, and cast into the Bosphorus. But I restrained myself, although my cheeks burned with rage, and I more than once put my hand to my jewelled dagger.

I was often visited by Osman Ali, who in vain attempted to make me speak; a harsh guttural sound was all which I would utter to express pain or pleasure. At last, being convinced that I was dumb, he exchanged me with a slave-merchant for a beautiful Circa.s.sian girl. He did not state my supposed infirmity, but gave it as his reason for parting with me, that I was too young, and required to be taught. As soon as the bargain was struck, and the merchant had received the money which had been given by Ali to effect the exchange, I was despoiled of my dress and ornaments, and put in a litter, to be conveyed to the house of the slave-merchant. As your highness may imagine, not a little tired of holding my tongue for a year and a half--

"By the beard of the Prophet, we can believe you on that point, good woman. You may proceed."

"Yes, yes, I may proceed. You think women have no resolution, and no souls--be it so--and what you dignify with the name of perseverance in your own s.e.x, you call obstinacy in ours. Be it so--time has been."

I was no sooner in the litter than I let loose my tongue, and called out to the women who were appointed to conduct me to the door of the harem, "Tell Osman Ali, that now I am no longer his slave, I have found my tongue." Then closing the curtains, I was carried away. As soon as I arrived, I told the merchant all that had pa.s.sed, and the reason why Ali had parted with me. The merchant, who was astonished at having made so good a bargain, laughed heartily at my narrative. He told me that he intended me for the seraglio of the sultan--flattered me by declaring that I should be certainly the favourite, and advised me to profit all I could by the masters he would provide. In the mean time, Osman Ali having heard from the women the message I had sent, was very wroth, and came to the slave-merchant to procure me again; but the slave-merchant informed him that the kislar aga of the sultan had seen me, and ordered me to be reserved for the imperial seraglio; by this falsehood screening himself, not only from Ali's importunities, but also from his vengeance.

I took the advice of my master, and in a little more than a year became a proficient in music and most other accomplishments; I also learnt to write and read, and to repeat most of the verses of Hafiz, and other celebrated poets. At seventeen I was offered to the kislar aga as a prodigy of beauty and talent. The kislar aga came to see me, and was astonished; he saw at once that I should immediately become first favourite; and having heard me sing and play, he demanded my price, which was enormous. He reported me to the sultan, stating that he had never beheld such perfection, and at the same time informing him of the exorbitant demand of the slave-merchant. The sultan, who had lately felt little interest in the inmates of his harem, and was anxious for novelty, ordered the sum to be paid, and I was conducted to the seraglio in a royal litter.

That I was anxious to be purchased by the sultan I confess: my pride rebelled at the idea of being a slave, and if I was to be so, at least I wished to be the slave of the sultan. I indulged the idea that I should soon bring him to subjection, and that the slave would lord it over her master, and that master the dispenser of life and death, honour and disgrace, to millions. I had made up my mind how to behave; the poets I had read had taught me but too well. Convinced that a little wilfulness would, from its novelty, be most likely to captivate one who had been accustomed to dull and pa.s.sive obedience, I allowed my natural temper to be unchecked. The second day after my arrival, the kislar aga informed me that the sultan intended to honour me with a visit, and that the baths and dresses were prepared. I replied that I had bathed that morning, and did not intend to bathe again--as for the dresses and jewels, I did not require them, and that I was ready to receive my lord, the sultan, if he pleased to come. The kislar aga opened his eyes with astonishment at my presumption; but not venturing to use force to one who, in his opinion, would become the favourite, he returned to the sultan, reporting to him what had pa.s.sed. The sultan, as I expected, was more amused at the novelty than affronted at the want of respect.