The Wanderer (30 page)

Lamentable though this incident was, it was not without its comic side, and three well-dressed boys of whom the eldest was perhaps eleven years old burst into uproarious laughter at the spectacle. But the fourth wept softly. He was not more than five. He sat on the arm of a man in a flowered silk kaftan in whom to my amazement I recognized Sultan Suleiman himself. There was no mistaking his smoke-colored complexion, though in his plain dress and low turban he looked strangely short in stature. I at once threw myself down and kissed the ground before him and his sons.

All was confusion round the tree. Ropes lay about, ladders were propped against the trunk, and efforts had clearly been made to bring the monkey down by squirting water at it. Even at this distance I could see that it was sick, and it moaned as it clung helplessly to the bough. The Kislar-Aga bent low before the Sultan and suggested that I should be sent up the tree since I knew the monkey, and indeed had brought the bewitched animal to the Seraglio. If I failed he would have me beheaded, and so no harm would come of my admission to the forbidden gardens.

His harsh words so wounded me that I rose at once and said, “I never asked to come here; I was induced with tears and prayers to offer my help. Call down those blockheads. They scare the poor beast. And stop that drumming. Then give me a little fruit and I’ll try to coax it down.”
 

The Kislar-Aga said, “Is it thus you speak to me, miserable slave? And know that since early morning we have tried to fetch it down with fruit.”
 

But Sultan Suleiman said curtly, “Call them down and send everyone away. You, too, have my leave to go.”
 

When the chattering eunuchs had disappeared with their ropes, ladders, and syringes, complete stillness reigned. The little boy in the Sultan’s arms had ceased sobbing, and only the moans of the monkey could be heard. Not venturing to address the Sultan I turned to his eldest son and said, “Noble Prince Mustafa, the monkey is sick. That’s why it fled up the tree. I shall try to coax it down.”
 

The dark, handsome boy nodded haughtily. I sat down upon the ground with Rael in my arms and called softly and coaxingly, “Koko! Koko!” The monkey peeped suspiciously through the branches and gave a few faint cries, but would not move. Then I said to Rael, hoping that the Sultan would hear, “Dear, faithful dog! Koko doesn’t know me in my new clothes, and thinks I’m one of the eunuchs.
You
call her. Perhaps she’ll remember playing with you on board ship. Try to call her down from the tree.”
 

Rael looked up into the treetop, pricked his ears, and whined softly, then barked twice. The monkey climbed down a little way to get a clearer view, and Prince Jehangir still on his father’s arm held up his little hands and called, “Koko! Koko!” The monkey hesitated, but as Rael went on whining she made
up her mind and climbed swiftly down. She sped up to me, sprang into my arms, and hugged me with her white-whiskered cheek against mine, her whole spindly body shaking with fever.
 

Koko stretched out one arm and stroked Rael, then pulled his ears and tail, whereupon Rael gently caught her hand in his teeth and growled warningly. At the beginning of our voyage the monkey had tormented the life out of Rael, pinching him at every opportunity and then taking flight to the top of the mast, leaving the dog barking furiously below. But later they both enjoyed the game and became friends; sometimes they basked together on deck and Koko lay with her arms about Rael’s neck, or with nimble fingers plucked fleas from his coat.
 

But now she broke off her play in a terrible fit of coughing, one tiny hand pressed to her chest. Tears flowed from the haggard eyes, and between paroxysms she uttered heartrending cries as if to tell me how wretched and lonely she felt. Rael too began to whine piteously, and licked Koko’s limp hand as if he understood. The princes came to stroke the sick monkey and to my surprise the Sultan drew near too, and spreading out the skirts of his kaftan sat down beside me on the ground so that Prince Jehangir could touch the little creature. The Sultan said to me, “You must be a good man, since animals trust you. Is the monkey sick?”
 

I replied, “I have studied medicine both in Christian countries and among Moslems, and I know that this poor beast has fever. It will die, if Allah so wills. It could not survive this climate, and the night spent in the tree has worsened the chill. I think it fled up the tree to die there alone, for most of the creatures we try to tame prefer to die in solitude, away from humans.”
 

Prince Mustafa said hotly, “The monkey has lived in warm rooms and worn warm clothes every day, for it’s my brother Jehangir’s pet. The slave who’s to blame for its illness shall pay for it with his head.”
 

I answered, “No one is to blame for this illness, for monkeys are most sensitive to changes of climate, and even in the palaces of sunny Italy they sicken and die. If this little monkey should perish too, it will be by the will of Allah and we cannot prevent it. Nevertheless I’ll prepare a cough mixture to soothe the pain.”
 

The Sultan said, “Will you indeed give this poor beast medicine? Most physicians consider it beneath their dignity to treat animals. Yet the Prophet loved them, especially camels and cats. Indeed animals, unlike men, are without guile and I hate to see them suffer. But I have many animal doctors in my service and shall need you no longer. Selim, give him the monkey’s clothes. Mustafa, give him the chain. And you, Michael, dress the monkey
and fasten the chain about its neck; then leave us.”
 

The boys handed me a little wool-lined velvet kaftan and a thin silver chain, but Koko struggled when I tried to put them on her. At last I succeeded, and laying the end of the chain in Prince Jehangir’s little hand I told the boys to give the monkey some warm milk. Then I rose, called my dog, and prepared to leave the gardens. But at this Koko flew into a passion, kicked and struggled and tried to bite the princes, then tore loose and ran after me. With the chain rattling behind her she scrambled up into my arms and clung there.
 

The Sultan was at a loss. He put down the little boy, who ran up to me crying, flung one arm around my leg and raised the other to stroke the monkey. It was then I noticed that the poor little fellow was club- footed, and that a hump was beginning to show beneath his silken coat. His sallow face was as ugly as the monkey’s, and he was almost stifled with his sobs. Then Selim, the third prince, clutched his head and cried in a shrill voice that he was going to faint. The Sultan shouted, “Mustafa and Muhammed! Take Jehangir in at once and this man too, to look after the monkey. Send the Kislar-Aga to me and call the
tselebs.”
 

As I bent to rub Prince Selim’s temples the Sultan signed to me to go, no doubt meaning the boys to take me out of the harem gardens to their own quarters in the inner court. But the young princes misunderstood him and instead led me to Prince Jehangir’s rooms where the monkey’s cage was. I could feel the eyes of agitated eunuchs following me from behind the bushes, but did not then know enough to be afraid.
 

Carrying the monkey and leading Prince Jehangir by the hand I followed the boys to Sultana Khurrem’s pavilion of many-colored tiles, thus committing all unawares the gravest possible offense. Mustafa, Muhammed, and Selim, all being over seven years old, lived with their
tselebs,
or tutors, in the third courtyard; but the sickly Jehangir, who was only five, remained in his mother’s pavilion and was allowed to keep his monkey there. I was certainly somewhat startled to see the women attendants hastening toward us unveiled, in the belief that I was a eunuch, yet I still had no misgivings and entered Prince Jehan- gir’s spacious room in which stood the monkey’s gilded cage and its bed. I ordered the women to fetch some hot milk at once for the sick animal, while the boys sat down on cushions to watch all I did. Rael hurried round the room sniffing into every corner, and Prince Jehangir, like any other tear-stained and weary child, began crying for his mother.
 

All that had happened so far seemed purely the result of chance, and only later did I learn that Prince Selim was an epileptic. During his childhood the attacks could be controlled and suppressed by means of sedatives. They did
not become serious until as a youth he began to drink too much wine. The Sultan naturally wished to keep this terrible disorder secret, and that was why he sent me so hastily out of the garden; he feared that the excitement might bring on an attack. Prince Mustafa was born of the Circassian slave whom Suleiman had dismissed in favor of Khurrem. He was thus only half-brother to Jehangir, and it had evidently been the Sultan’s intention that Mustafa should take me to his own rooms; but Mustafa was generous hearted and of course thought it best for the monkey to be taken straight to its warm cage.
 

I did become exceedingly agitated, however, to hear a rippling laugh and see coming toward us an unveiled and richly dressed woman with a jeweled net over her hair. She put her arms about Prince Jehangir, and I at once flung myself to the ground, hiding my face in my hands. Yet I was as usual unable to master my curiosity, and stole a glance at her between my fingers, feeling that since in any case my punishment for entering the Sultana’s pavilion must be death, it could make little difference if I had a glimpse of the woman of whom so many tales were told and whom Christian princes overwhelmed with presents.
 

My first impression was disappointing, for I had expected a ravishing beauty. This was the woman who, alone among countless lovely maidens from all corners of the world, had received the Sultan’s handkerchief and for years after their wedding night had kept his favor. She was a fairly tall, plump woman, still young, but her face was unusually round and her nose anything but aristocratic. It was in her lively play of feature and continual laughter that her charm lay, though it seemed to me that her blue eyes had no part in that mirth. As she regarded the deeply bowing Mustafa over Jehangir’s head I saw in them a singular coldness.
 

Prince Mustafa explained that he had been commanded to bring me with him to tend the sick monkey and prepare a draught for it. My dog now rose smartly on his hind legs and stretched forth his nose toward the Sultana, in whom he plainly saw the dispenser of titbits. Prince Jehangir giggled, and at once the Sultana sent her women after sweetmeats, which she then gave the dog herself, laughing her silvery laugh. Meanwhile a cup of warm milk had been brought and I was able to induce the monkey to drink a little of it; but it would not leave me and kept one arm tightly round my neck while with the other it tried to coax the dog to come to it.

Sultana Khurrem now turned to me and asked in Turkish, “Who are you, and how can a eunuch have a beard? Can you really treat sick monkeys?”
 

I pressed my forehead to the ground before her, while the monkey sat on the back of my neck and tried to snatch off my turban.

“Sovereign lady,” I said, “I have not ventured so much as a glance at your radiant beauty. For the sake of my little dog and the sick monkey, protect me, for I’m no eunuch. Through no fault of mine I was brought to the gardens to coax the monkey down from the top of the plane tree, and I’ve not the least idea how I come to be in your presence, most lovely of all women in the world.”
 

She answered, laughing, “Lift your head and look at me, you simple man, now that you’re here. You’ve made my son Jehangir smile and he loves your dog. But the Kislar-Aga will no doubt receive the silken cord for his negligence, so you’ll die in good company. Prince Mustafa deserves punishment for his stupidity.”
 

In deep dejection I replied, “I welcome death, if it be Allah’s will. But allow me first to give my dog to Prince Jehangir, if he is fond of him. After my death there will be no one else to care for the poor beast. I will also prepare a draught for the monkey and relieve its suffering. I’m not aware of having in any way offended against yourself or the Lord of all Nations, for it was not of my own will or with evil intent that I entered your presence. Nor can your beauty put me in a state of impurity, for how could one of my lowly estate raise his eyes to you?”
 

The poor monkey, still sitting on the back of my neck, was now overcome by another fit of coughing. I had to sit up again and take her into my arms. She coughed so violently that froth tinged with blood appeared at the corners of her mouth and she could offer no resistance when I laid her on the soft cushion in the cage, which was warmed by a charcoal brazier. Rael, replete with sweetmeats, jumped into the cage too, and curled up beside the monkey, which put an arm about his neck and tugged his ears. Prince Jehangir crept from his mother’s arms, drew a cushion forward to the cage, and sat down cross legged to gaze with his big, sad eyes at his pet. I could see that he was a gentle boy, who would not ill treat my dog. I then rapidly recited the first sura and said, “Prince Jehangir, my dog is the cleverest dog in the world and has seen many countries. I bequeath him to you, since I am to meet the One who severs the bonds of friendship and silences the voice of happiness. Take care of Rael and be a good master to him, and Allah will surely reward you.”
 

I was convinced that by the merciless laws of the Seraglio I must die. But the princes cared nothing for my melancholy fate; they clapped their hands and began to make much of their grieving brother Jehangir, in the hope that they too might play with my dog. Sultana Khur- rem said, “Such an animal is no very becoming gift for the son of the Sultan; but he himself is not without blemish and perhaps the animal will be a comfort to him if the monkey dies—
as I hope it will, for the smell of its cage pollutes the room. But I’m not hardhearted, and I will speak to the Sultan, if I should be so favored as to meet with him before the mutes have put the rope about your neck. But your entry into this pavilion without permission is so abominable a disgrace for the Kislar-Aga that he will hardly spare your life, and as the Sultan’s slave I am bound to obey the Kislar-Aga in all things.”