The Talisman by Walter Scott (important books to read TXT) 📗

CHAPTER XVIII. This work desires a planetary intelligence Of Jupiter and Sol; and those great spirits Are proud, fantastical. It asks great charges To entice them from the guiding of their spheres, To wait on mortals. ALBUMAZAR.

The hermit followed the ladies from the pavilion of Richard, as shadow follows a beam of sunshine when the clouds are driving over the face of the sun. But he turned on the threshold, and held up his hand towards the King in a warning, or almost a menacing posture, as he said, “Woe to him who rejects the counsel of the church, and betaketh himself to the foul divan of the infidel! King Richard, I do not yet shake the dust from my feet and depart from thy encampment; the sword falls not—but it hangs but by a hair. Haughty monarch, we shall meet again.”

“Be it so, haughty priest,” returned Richard, “prouder in thy goatskins than princes in purple and fine linen.”

The hermit vanished from the tent, and the King continued, addressing the Arabian, “Do the dervises of the East, wise Hakim, use such familiarity with their princes?”

“The dervise,” replied Adonbec, “should be either a sage or a madman; there is no middle course for him who wears the khirkhah, [Literally, the torn robe. The habit of the dervises is so called.] who watches by night, and fasts by day. Hence hath he either wisdom enough to bear himself discreetly in the presence of princes; or else, having no reason bestowed on him, he is not responsible for his own actions.”

“Methinks our monks have adopted chiefly the latter character,” said Richard. “But to the matter. In what can I pleasure you, my learned physician?”

“Great King,” said El Hakim, making his profound Oriental obeisance, “let thy servant speak one word, and yet live. I would remind thee that thou owest—not to me, their humble instrument—but to the Intelligences, whose benefits I dispense to mortals, a life—”

“And I warrant me thou wouldst have another in requital, ha?” interrupted the King.

“Such is my humble prayer,” said the Hakim, “to the great Melech Ric—even the life of this good knight, who is doomed to die, and but for such fault as was committed by the Sultan Adam, surnamed Aboulbeschar, or the father of all men.”

“And thy wisdom might remind thee, Hakim, that Adam died for it,” said the King, somewhat sternly, and then began to pace the narrow space of his tent with some emotion, and to talk to himself. “Why, God-a-mercy, I knew what he desired as soon as ever he entered the pavilion! Here is one poor life justly condemned to extinction, and I, a king and a soldier, who have slain thousands by my command, and scores with my own hand, am to have no power over it, although the honour of my arms, of my house, of my very Queen, hath been attainted by the culprit. By Saint George, it makes me laugh! By Saint Louis, it reminds me of Blondel's tale of an enchanted castle, where the destined knight was withstood successively in his purpose of entrance by forms and figures the most dissimilar, but all hostile to his undertaking! No sooner one sunk than another appeared! Wife—kinswoman—hermit—Hakim-each appears in the lists as soon as the other is defeated! Why, this is a single knight fighting against the whole MELEE of the tournament—ha! ha! ha!” And Richard laughed aloud; for he had, in fact, begun to change his mood, his resentment being usually too violent to be of long endurance.

The physician meanwhile looked on him with a countenance of surprise, not unmingled with contempt; for the Eastern people make no allowance for these mercurial changes in the temper, and consider open laughter, upon almost any account, as derogatory to the dignity of man, and becoming only to women and children. At length the sage addressed the King when he saw him more composed:—

“A doom of death should not issue from laughing lips. Let thy servant hope that thou hast granted him this man's life.”

“Take the freedom of a thousand captives instead,” said Richard; “restore so many of thy countrymen to their tents and families, and I will give the warrant instantly. This man's life can avail thee nothing, and it is forfeited.”

“All our lives are forfeited,” said the Hakim, putting his hand to his cap. “But the great Creditor is merciful, and exacts not the pledge rigorously nor untimely.”

“Thou canst show me,” said Richard, “no special interest thou hast to become intercessor betwixt me and the execution of justice, to which I am sworn as a crowned king.”

“Thou art sworn to the dealing forth mercy as well as justice,” said El Hakim; “but what thou seekest, great King, is the execution of thine own will. And for the concern I have in this request, know that many a man's life depends upon thy granting this boon.”

“Explain thy words,” said Richard; “but think not to impose upon me by false pretexts.”

“Be it far from thy servant!” said Adonbec. “Know, then, that the medicine to which thou, Sir King, and many one besides, owe their recovery, is a talisman, composed under certain aspects of the heavens, when the Divine Intelligences are most propitious. I am but the poor administrator of its virtues. I dip it in a cup of water, observe the fitting hour to administer it to the patient, and the potency of the draught works the cure.”

“A most rare medicine,” said the King, “and a commodious! and, as it may be carried in the leech's purse, would save the whole caravan of camels which they require to convey drugs and physic stuff; I marvel there is any other in use.”

“It is written,” answered the Hakim, with imperturbable gravity, “'Abuse not the steed which hath borne thee from the battle.' Know that such talismans might indeed be framed, but rare has been the number of adepts who have dared to undertake the application of their virtue. Severe restrictions, painful observances, fasts, and penance, are necessary on the part of the sage who uses this mode of cure; and if, through neglect of these preparations, by his love of ease, or his indulgence of sensual