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

appetite, he omits to cure at least twelve persons within the course of each moon, the virtue of the divine gift departs from the amulet, and both the last patient and the physician will be exposed to speedy misfortune, neither will they survive the year. I require yet one life to make up the appointed number.”

“Go out into the camp, good Hakim, where thou wilt find a-many,” said the King, “and do not seek to rob my headsman of HIS patients; it is unbecoming a mediciner of thine eminence to interfere with the practice of another. Besides, I cannot see how delivering a criminal from the death he deserves should go to make up thy tale of miraculous cures.”

“When thou canst show why a draught of cold water should have cured thee when the most precious drugs failed,” said the Hakim, “thou mayest reason on the other mysteries attendant on this matter. For myself, I am inefficient to the great work, having this morning touched an unclean animal. Ask, therefore, no further questions; it is enough that, by sparing this man's life at my request, you will deliver yourself, great King, and thy servant, from a great danger.”

“Hark thee, Adonbec,” replied the King, “I have no objection that leeches should wrap their words in mist, and pretend to derive knowledge from the stars; but when you bid Richard Plantagenet fear that a danger will fall upon HIM from some idle omen, or omitted ceremonial, you speak to no ignorant Saxon, or doting old woman, who foregoes her purpose because a hare crosses the path, a raven croaks, or a cat sneezes.”

“I cannot hinder your doubt of my words,” said Adonbec; “but yet let my Lord the King grant that truth is on the tongue of his servant—will he think it just to deprive the world, and every wretch who may suffer by the pains which so lately reduced him to that couch, of the benefit of this most virtuous talisman, rather than extend his forgiveness to one poor criminal? Bethink you, Lord King, that, though thou canst slay thousands, thou canst not restore one man to health. Kings have the power of Satan to torment, sages that of Allah to heal—beware how thou hinderest the good to humanity which thou canst not thyself render. Thou canst cut off the head, but not cure the aching tooth.”

“This is over-insolent,” said the King, hardening himself, as the Hakim assumed a more lofty and almost a commanding tone. “We took thee for our leech, not for our counsellor or conscience-keeper.”

“And is it thus the most renowned Prince of Frangistan repays benefit done to his royal person?” said El Hakim, exchanging the humble and stooping posture in which he had hitherto solicited the King, for an attitude lofty and commanding. “Know, then,” he said, “that: through every court of Europe and Asia—to Moslem and Nazarene—to knight and lady—wherever harp is heard and sword worn—wherever honour is loved and infamy detested—to every quarter of the world—will I denounce thee, Melech Ric, as thankless and ungenerous; and even the lands—if there be any such—that never heard of thy renown shall yet be acquainted with thy shame!”

“Are these terms to me, vile infidel?” said Richard, striding up to him in fury. “Art weary of thy life?”

“Strike!” said El Hakim; “thine own deed shall then paint thee more worthless than could my words, though each had a hornet's sting.”

Richard turned fiercely from him, folded his arms, traversed the tent as before, and then exclaimed, “Thankless and ungenerous!—as well be termed coward and infidel! Hakim, thou hast chosen thy boon; and though I had rather thou hadst asked my crown jewels, yet I may not, kinglike, refuse thee. Take this Scot, therefore, to thy keeping; the provost will deliver him to thee on this warrant.”

He hastily traced one or two lines, and gave them to the physician. “Use him as thy bond-slave, to be disposed of as thou wilt—only, let him beware how he comes before the eyes of Richard. Hark thee—thou art wise—he hath been over-bold among those in whose fair looks and weak judgments we trust our honour, as you of the East lodge your treasures in caskets of silver wire, as fine and as frail as the web of a gossamer.”

“Thy servant understands the words of the King,” said the sage, at once resuming the reverent style of address in which he had commenced. “When the rich carpet is soiled, the fool pointeth to the stain—the wise man covers it with his mantle. I have heard my lord's pleasure, and to hear is to obey.”

“It is well,” said the King; “let him consult his own safety, and never appear in my presence more. Is there aught else in which I may do thee pleasure?”

“The bounty of the King hath filled my cup to the brim,” said the sage—“yea, it hath been abundant as the fountain which sprung up amid the camp of the descendants of Israel when the rock was stricken by the rod of Moussa Ben Amram.”

“Ay, but,” said the King, smiling, “it required, as in the desert, a hard blow on the rock ere it yielded its treasures. I would that I knew something to pleasure thee, which I might yield as freely as the natural fountain sends forth its waters.”

“Let me touch that victorious hand,” said the sage, “in token that if Adonbec el Hakim should hereafter demand a boon of Richard of England, he may do so, yet plead his command.”

“Thou hast hand and glove upon it, man,” replied Richard; “only, if thou couldst consistently make up thy tale of patients without craving me to deliver from punishment those who have deserved it, I would more willingly discharge my debt in some other form.”

“May thy days be multiplied!” answered the Hakim, and withdrew from the apartment after the usual deep obeisance.

King Richard gazed after him as he departed, like one but half-satisfied with what had passed.

“Strange pertinacity,” he said, “in this Hakim, and a wonderful chance to interfere between that audacious Scot and the chastisement he has merited so richly. Yet let him live! there is one brave man the more in the world. And now for the Austrian. Ho! is the Baron of Gilsland there without?”

Sir Thomas de Vaux thus summoned, his bulky form speedily darkened the opening of the pavilion, while behind him glided as a spectre, unannounced, yet unopposed, the savage form of the hermit of Engaddi, wrapped in his goatskin mantle.

Richard, without noticing his presence, called in a loud tone to the baron, “Sir Thomas de Vaux, of Lanercost and Gilsland, take trumpet and herald, and go instantly to the tent of him whom they call Archduke of Austria, and see that it be when the press of his knights and vassals is greatest around him, as is likely at this hour, for the German boar breakfasts ere he hears mass—enter his presence with as little reverence as thou mayest, and impeach him, on the part of Richard of England, that he hath this night, by his own hand, or that of others, stolen from its staff the Banner of England. Wherefore say to him our pleasure that within an hour from the time of my speaking he restore the said banner with all reverence—he himself and his principal barons waiting the whilst with heads uncovered, and without their robes of honour. And that, moreover, he pitch beside it, on the