CHAPTER II.
Aiass raised himself from the earth, cast his eye with a look of reproach towards heaven, and gave way to a burst of sorrow; then bringing the strong energies of his mind to resistance, the ebullition shortly subsided, and he bowed to the stroke with the fortitude of a man who looks upon endurance as his province, and upon calamity as his lot. During the whole of this melancholy day he did not quit the body. His wife’s dying request was in his ears and in his memory—“Dig me a grave in the wilderness,” and he resolved to comply with it. He passed twelve lingering hours in a broiling sun, occasionally casting himself under the palampore beside the corpse, close to which his infant slept unconscious of its loss. His thirst became at length so excessive that his throat and tongue swelled, and he began toapprehend suffocation. His face was blistered and sore, his eyes inflamed, from the combined effects of weeping, and the glare of an ardent sun upon the white sand of the desert. Towards evening he was so overcome by his sufferings that he laid him down to die. The infant cried for nutriment, but he had none to give it. Taking the linen from his body, which was saturated with perspiration, he put it to the babe’s mouth: this kept it alive.
The tongue of Aiass had by this time enlarged to such an immense size that he could not move it. The inflammation was so great that he was unable to close his lips. Expecting death every moment, he pressed still closer to his bosom the innocent pledge of conjugal affection, when he was unexpectedly relieved by the cracking of his swollen tongue. A copious discharge of blood followed, which passed into his stomach, and somewhat assuaged the fever that burned within him. He was so much relieved by this effort of nature, that he almost immediately sank into a short but refreshing slumber.
The sun had gone down in brightness; and when he awoke, the stars were looking upon him from their thrones of light, and the whole heavens smiling above him in their beauty. The intense, calm azure of the sky seemed an emblem of the repose that dwells there. A gentle breeze had broken the oppressive stagnation of the air, and fanned his hot, blistered features as with an angel’s wing. His energies revived. Though the thirst by which he was still parched affected him greatly, still it was in some degree mitigated by that balmy breath of heaven, which he felt now for the first time since he had entered upon the desert. He commenced his melancholy task of digging a grave to enclose the remains of an object who had been dearer to him than his own life. He took his crease—a short dagger with a wide double-edged blade,—and began to remove the sand. It was an arduous and sorrowful labour. After an earnest application of mind and body for two hours, he succeeded in sinking a hole four feet deep. Into this he tenderly lowered the body of his departed wife, filled up the pit, and throwing himself upon it, lay there until morning. There was a dischargeof blood from his tongue once or twice during the night, which more than probably saved his life.
Towards dawn he fell into a deep and death-like sleep. He was at length awaked by feeling himself severely shaken. Upon looking up, he perceived himself to be surrounded by strangers. They were travellers on their way to Lahore. They gave him food and water; the infant was fed with goat’s milk by means of a sponge. His strength being now somewhat recruited, he joined the travellers, and advanced with them by easy stages to their destination.
Lahore was the field in which the Tartar’s talents soon displayed themselves. Aiass was no ordinary man. He attracted the notice of the Emperor Akbar, who had a singular faculty in discriminating merit, and from that moment rose to distinction. Akbar perceived his value, and made it available to promote the interests of his empire. The Tartar advanced by a regular but rapid progression until he became high treasurer of the state. He was a chief political organ of one of the wisest sovereigns which history celebrates, and held in great respect by the whole nation. The Emperor reposed implicit confidence in him: it was well deserved, and ended only with his life.
The daughter of Aiass, who had been so providentially preserved in the desert, as she grew up, excelled in personal attractions all the loveliest women of the East, and was therefore honoured with the designation of Mher-ul-Nissa: the Sun of Women. The extraordinary event which had distinguished her birth seemed but as the prognostic of future distinction. The child of the desert grew to be the perfection of woman. The greatest care was taken to make her mistress of every accomplishment which could impart additional fascination to the natural graces of her sex. In vivacity, wit, spirit, and all those elegant attainments in which women especially excel, she was unrivalled by few and surpassed by none.
Of her it might have been almost said, without any assumption of the licence of poetry—
“The force of Nature could no further go.”
In masculine vigour of understanding she stood alone and unapproached. Her beauty was the theme of universal praise. Suitors from all quarters sought her hand; but it was not easily won. Shere Afkun, a Turkoman noble of distinction, at length presented himself; and to him she was betrothed. The Mogul historians speak of Shere Afkun as the most eminent person of his age, and much esteemed by the Emperor, who never failed to bestow his favour upon brave men. The Turkoman was of lofty stature, and no less remarkable for the beauty of his form and features than for the rare qualities of his mind. He was universally acknowledged to be every way worthy of the beautiful Mher-ul-Nissa, by whose preference he felt equally flattered and delighted.