He led off the first charade. A Turkish officer with an immense plume
of feathers (the Janizaries were supposed to be still in existence, and
the tarboosh had not as yet displaced the ancient and majestic
head-dress of the true believers) was seen couched on a divan, and
making believe to puff at a narghile, in which, however, for the sake
of the ladies, only a fragrant pastille was allowed to smoke. The
Turkish dignitary yawns and expresses signs of weariness and idleness.
He claps his hands and Mesrour the Nubian appears, with bare arms,
bangles, yataghans, and every Eastern ornament--gaunt, tall, and
hideous. He makes a salaam before my lord the Aga.
A thrill of terror and delight runs through the assembly. The ladies
whisper to one another. The black slave was given to Bedwin Sands by
an Egyptian pasha in exchange for three dozen of Maraschino. He has
sewn up ever so many odalisques in sacks and tilted them into the Nile.
"Bid the slave-merchant enter," says the Turkish voluptuary with a wave
of his hand. Mesrour conducts the slave-merchant into my lord's
presence; he brings a veiled female with him. He removes the veil. A
thrill of applause bursts through the house. It is Mrs. Winkworth (she
was a Miss Absolom) with the beautiful eyes and hair. She is in a
gorgeous oriental costume; the black braided locks are twined with
innumerable jewels; her dress is covered over with gold piastres. The
odious Mahometan expresses himself charmed by her beauty. She falls
down on her knees and entreats him to restore her to the mountains
where she was born, and where her Circassian lover is still deploring
the absence of his Zuleikah. No entreaties will move the obdurate
Hassan. He laughs at the notion of the Circassian bridegroom. Zuleikah
covers her face with her hands and drops down in an attitude of the
most beautiful despair. There seems to be no hope for her, when--when
the Kislar Aga appears.
The Kislar Aga brings a letter from the Sultan. Hassan receives and
places on his head the dread firman. A ghastly terror seizes him,
while on the Negro's face (it is Mesrour again in another costume)
appears a ghastly joy. "Mercy! mercy!" cries the Pasha: while the
Kislar Aga, grinning horribly, pulls out--a bow-string.
The curtain draws just as he is going to use that awful weapon. Hassan
from within bawls out, "First two syllables"--and Mrs. Rawdon Crawley,
who is going to act in the charade, comes forward and compliments Mrs.
Winkworth on the admirable taste and beauty of her costume.