“Fools from their
fate seek not to urge:
The coxcomb carrieth
his scourge."’
So Feshnavat smoothed his face, and said, ’Is’t not also written?—
“Oft may the fall
of fools make wise men moan!
Too often hangs the
house on one loose stone!”
’Tis so, O Noorna, my daughter, and I am as a reed shaken by the wind of apprehensiveness, and doubt in me is a deep root as to the issue of this undertaking, for the wrath of the King will be terrible, and the clamour of the people soundeth in my ears already. If Shibli Bagarag fail in one stroke, where be we? ’Tis certain I knew not the might in Shagpat when I strove with him, and he’s powerful beyond the measure of man’s subtlety; and yonder flies a rook without fellow—an omen; and all’s ominous, and ominous of ill: and I marked among the troop of slaves that preceded Baba Mustapha one that squinted, and that’s an omen; and, O my daughter, I counsel that thou by thy magic speed us to some remote point in the Caucasus, where we may abide the unravelling of this web securely, one way or the other way. ‘Tis my counsel, O Noorna.’
Then she, ’Abandon my betrothed? and betray him on the very stroke of the Sword? and diminish him by a withdrawal of that faith in his right wrist which strengtheneth it more than Karavejis and Veejravoosh wound round it in coils?’ And she leaned her head, and cried, ’Hark! hear’st thou? there’s shouting in the streets of Shiraz and of Shagpat! Shall we merit the punishment of Shahpesh the Persian on Khipil the builder, while the Event is mastering? I’ll mark this interview between Baba Mustapha and Shagpat; and do thou, O my father, rest here on this roof till the King’s guard of horsemen and soldiers of the law come hither for thee, and go with them sedately, fearing nought, for I shall be by thee in the garb of an old woman; and preserve thy composure in the presence of the King and Shagpat exalted, and allow not the thing that happeneth let fly from thee the shaft of speech, but remain a slackened bow till the strength of my betrothed is testified, fearing nought, for fear is that which defeateth men, and ’tis declared in a distich,—
“The strongest
weapon one can see
In mortal hands is constancy.”
And for us to flee now would rank us with that King described by the poet:
“A king of Ind
there was who fought a fight
From the first gleam
of morn till fall of night;
But when the royal tent
his generals sought,
Proclaiming victory,
fled was he who fought.
Despair possessed them,
till they chanced to spy
A Dervish that paced
on with downward eye;
They questioned of the
King; he answer’d slow,
‘Ye fought but
one, the King a double, foe."’
And, O my father, they interpreted of this that the King had been vanquished, he that was victor, by the phantom army of his fears.’