Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia
When the clouds of sorrow gather over us, we see nothing beyond them, nor
can imagine how they will be dispelled; yet a new day succeeded to the
night, and sorrow is never long without a dawn of ease. But they who
restrain themselves from receiving comfort do as the savages would have
done had they put out their eyes when it was dark. Our minds, like our
bodies, are in continual flux; something is hourly lost, and something
acquired. To lose much at once is inconvenient to either, but while the
vital power remains uninjured, nature will find the means of reparation.
Distance has the same effect on the mind as on the eye; and while we
glide along the stream of time, whatever we leave behind us is always
lessening, and that which we approach increasing in magnitude. Do not
suffer life to stagnate: it will grow muddy for want of motion; commit
yourself again to the current of the world; Pekuah will vanish by
degrees; you will meet in your way some other favourite, or learn to
diffuse yourself in general conversation.”
“At least,” said the Prince, “do not despair before all remedies have
been tried. The inquiry after the unfortunate lady is still continued,
and shall be carried on with yet greater diligence, on condition that you
will promise to wait a year for the event, without any unalterable
resolution.”
Nekayah thought this a reasonable demand, and made the promise to her
brother, who had been obliged by Imlac to require it. Imlac had, indeed,
no great hope of regaining Pekuah; but he supposed that if he could
secure the interval of a year, the Princess would be then in no danger of
a cloister.
CHAPTER XXXVI
PEKUAH IS STILL REMEMBERED. THE PROGRESS OF SORROW.
NEKAYAH, seeing that nothing was omitted for the recovery of her
favourite, and having by her promise set her intention of retirement at a
distance, began imperceptibly to return to common cares and common
pleasures. She rejoiced without her own consent at the suspension of her
sorrows, and sometimes caught herself with indignation in the act of
turning away her mind from the remembrance of her whom yet she resolved
never to forget.
She then appointed a certain hour of the day for meditation on the merits
and fondness of Pekuah, and for some weeks retired constantly at the time
fixed, and returned with her eyes swollen and her countenance clouded.
By degrees she grew less scrupulous, and suffered any important and
pressing avocation to delay the tribute of daily tears. She then yielded
to less occasions, and sometimes forgot what she was indeed afraid to
remember, and at last wholly released herself from the duty of periodical
affliction.
Her real love of Pekuah was not yet diminished. A thousand occurrences
brought her back to memory, and a thousand wants, which nothing but the
confidence of friendship can supply, made her frequently regretted. She
therefore solicited Imlac never to desist from inquiry, and to leave no
art of intelligence untried, that at least she might have the comfort of
knowing that she did not suffer by negligence or sluggishness. “Yet
what,” said she, “is to be expected from our pursuit of happiness, when
we find the state of life to be such that happiness itself is the cause
of misery? Why should we endeavour to attain that of which the
possession cannot be secured? I shall henceforward fear to yield my
heart to excellence, however bright, or to fondness, however tender, lest
I should lose again what I have lost in Pekuah.”
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE PRINCESS HEARS NEWS OF PEKUAH.
IN seven mouths one of the messengers who had been sent away upon the day
when the promise was drawn from the Princess, returned, after many
unsuccessful rambles, from the borders of Nubia, with an account that
Pekuah was in the hands of an Arab chief, who possessed a castle or
fortress on the extremity of Egypt. The Arab, whose revenue was plunder,
was willing to restore her, with her two attendants, for two hundred
ounces of gold.
The price was no subject of debate. The Princess was in ecstasies when
she heard that her favourite was alive, and might so cheaply be ransomed.
She could not think of delaying for a moment Pekuah’s happiness or her
own, but entreated her brother to send back the messenger with the sum
required. Imlac, being consulted, was not very confident of the veracity
of the relater, and was still more doubtful of the Arab’s faith, who
might, if he were too liberally trusted, detain at once the money and the
captives. He thought it dangerous to put themselves in the power of the
Arab by going into his district; and could not expect that the rover
would so much expose himself as to come into the lower country, where he
might be seized by the forces of the Bassa.
It is difficult to negotiate where neither will trust. But Imlac, after
some deliberation, directed the messenger to propose that Pekuah should
be conducted by ten horsemen to the monastery of St. Anthony, which is
situated in the deserts of Upper Egypt, where she should be met by the
same number, and her ransom should be paid.
That no time might be lost, as they expected that the proposal would not
be refused, they immediately began their journey to the monastery; and
when they arrived, Imlac went forward with the former messenger to the
Arab’s fortress. Rasselas was desirous to go with them; but neither his
sister nor Imlac would consent. The Arab, according to the custom of his
nation, observed the laws of hospitality with great exactness to those
who put themselves into his power, and in a few days brought Pekuah, with
her maids, by easy journeys, to the place appointed, where, receiving the
stipulated price, he restored her, with great respect, to liberty and her
friends, and undertook to conduct them back towards Cairo beyond all
danger of robbery or violence.
The Princess and her favourite embraced each other with transport too
violent to be expressed, and went out together to pour the tears of
tenderness in secret, and exchange professions of kindness and gratitude.
After a few hours they returned into the refectory of the convent, where,
in the presence of the prior and his brethren, the Prince required of
Pekuah the history of her adventures.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE ADVENTURES OF THE LADY PEKUAH.
“AT what time and in what manner I was forced away,” said Pekuah, “your
servants have told you. The suddenness of the event struck me with
surprise, and I was at first rather stupefied than agitated with any
passion of either fear or sorrow. My confusion was increased by the
speed and tumult of our flight, while we were followed by the Turks, who,
as it seemed, soon despaired to overtake us, or were afraid of those whom
they made a show of menacing.
“When the Arabs saw themselves out of danger, they slackened their
course; and as I was less harassed by external violence, I began to feel
more uneasiness in my mind. After some time we stopped near a spring
shaded with trees, in a pleasant meadow, where we were set upon the
ground, and offered such refreshments as our masters were partaking. I
was suffered to sit with my maids apart from the rest, and none attempted
to comfort or insult us. Here I first began to feel the full weight of
my misery. The girls sat weeping in silence, and from time to time
looked on me for succour. I knew not to what condition we were doomed,
nor could conjecture where would be the place of our captivity, or whence
to draw any hope of deliverance. I was in the hands of robbers and
savages, and had no reason to suppose that their pity was more than their
justice, or that they would forbear the gratification of any ardour of
desire or caprice of cruelty. I, however, kissed my maids, and
endeavoured to pacify them by remarking that we were yet treated with
decency, and that since we were now carried beyond pursuit, there was no
danger of violence to our lives.
“When we were to be set again on horseback, my maids clung round me, and
refused to be parted; but I commanded them not to irritate those who had
us in their power. We travelled the remaining part of the day through an
unfrequented and pathless country, and came by moonlight to the side of a
hill, where the rest of the troop was stationed. Their tents were
pitched and their fires kindled, and our chief was welcomed as a man much
beloved by his dependents.
“We were received into a large tent, where we found women who had
attended their husbands in the expedition. They set before us the supper
which they had provided, and I ate it rather to encourage my maids than
to comply with any appetite of my own. When the meat was taken away,
they spread the carpets for repose. I was weary, and hoped to find in
sleep that remission of distress which nature seldom denies. Ordering
myself, therefore, to be undressed, I observed that the women looked very
earnestly upon me, not expecting, I suppose, to see me so submissively
attended. When my upper vest was taken off, they were apparently struck
with the splendour of my clothes, and one of them timorously laid her
hand upon the embroidery. She then went out, and in a short time came
back with another woman, who seemed to be of higher rank and greater
authority. She did, at her entrance, the usual act of reverence, and,
taking me by the hand placed me in a smaller tent, spread with finer
carpets, where I spent the night quietly with my maids.
“In the morning, as I was sitting on the grass, the chief of the troop
came towards me. I rose up to receive him, and he bowed with great
respect. ‘Illustrious lady,’ said he, ‘my fortune is better than I had
presumed to hope: I am told by my women that I have a princess in my
camp.’ ‘Sir,’ answered I, ‘your women have deceived themselves and you;
I am not a princess, but an unhappy stranger who intended soon to have
left this country, in which I am now to be imprisoned for ever.’
‘Whoever or whencesoever you are,’ returned the Arab, ‘your dress and
that of your servants show your rank to be high and your wealth to be
great. Why should you, who can so easily procure your ransom, think
yourself in danger of perpetual captivity? The purpose of my incursions
is to increase my riches, or, more properly, to gather tribute. The sons
of Ishmael are the natural and hereditary lords of this part of the
continent, which is usurped by late invaders and low-born tyrants, from
whom we are compelled to take by the sword what is denied to justice.
The violence of war admits no distinction: the lance that is lifted at
guilt and power will sometimes fall on innocence and gentleness.’
“‘How little,’ said I, ‘did I expect that yesterday it should have fallen
upon me!’
“’Misfortunes,’ answered the Arab, ‘should always be expected. If the
eye of hostility could learn reverence or pity, excellence like yours had
been exempt from injury. But the angels of affliction spread their toils
alike for the virtuous and the wicked, for the mighty and the mean. Do
not be disconsolate; I am not one of the lawless and cruel rovers of the
desert; I know the rules of civil life; I will fix your ransom, give a
passport to your messenger, and perform my stipulation with nice
punctuality.’
“You will easily believe that I was pleased with his courtesy, and
finding that his predominant passion was desire for money, I began now to
think my danger less, for I knew that no sum would be thought too great
for the release of Pekuah. I told him that he should have no reason to
charge me with ingratitude if I was used with kindness, and that any
ransom which could be expected for a maid of common rank would be paid,
but that he must not persist to rate me as a princess. He said he would
consider what he should demand, and then, smiling, bowed and retired.