Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 3, No. 15, August, 1851Various
General
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 3, No. 15, August, 1851
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
For some minutes he lay quivering on the ground, as if not quite sure
that the horrible spell was broken; then gathering himself up, he flung
the tongs from him, bounded across the lawn, and over the fence like an
antelope. When he had got to what he reckoned cursing distance, he
turned round, shook his fists at me, and fell to work--pouring out a
torrent of imprecations--shouting, screeching, and tossing his arms
about in a manner fearful to behold.
There is this peculiarity in the abuse of an Oriental, that, beyond
wishing the object of it a liberal endowment of blisters, boils, and
ulcers (no inefficient curses in a hot country), he does not otherwise
allude to him personally; but directs the main burden of his wrath
against his female relatives--from his grandmother to his
grand-daughter--wives, daughters, sisters, aunts, and grand-aunts
inclusive. These he imprecates individually and collectively through
every clause of a prescribed formulary, which has been handed down by
his ancestors, and which, in searchingness of detail, and
comprehensiveness of malediction, leaves small scope to additions or
improvements.
Leaving me, then, to rot and wither from the face of the earth, and
consigning all my female kindred to utter and inevitable death and
destruction, he walked off to a neighboring village to give vent to his
feelings and compose his ruffled dignity.
It so happened, that a short time after the faquir had gone, I
incautiously held my head, while watching the result of some
experiments, over a dish of fuming acid, and consequently became so ill
as to be obliged to retire to my bedroom and lie down. In about an hour,
I called to my bearer to fetch me a glass of water; but, although I
heard him and some of the other servants whispering together behind the
purda, or door-curtain, no attention was paid to my summons. After
repeating the call two or three times with the same result, I got up to
see what was the matter. On drawing aside the purda, I beheld the whole
establishment seated in full conclave on their haunches round the door.
On seeing me, they all got up and took to their heels, like a covey of
frightened partridges. The old kidmudgar was too fat to run far; so I
seized him just as he was making his exit by a gap in the garden fence.
He was, at first, quite incapable of giving any account of himself; so I
made him sit a minute among the long grass to recover his wind, when he
broke out with, "Oh! _re-bab-re-bab_!" and began to blubber, as only a
fat kidmudgar can, imploring me to send instantly for the faquir, and
make him a present; if I did not, I would certainly be a dead man before
to-morrow's sun; "For," said he, "a faquir's curse is good as
_kismut-ke-bat_" (a matter of fate). Some of his fellows now seeing that
the murder was out, ventured to come back, and joined in requesting me
to save my life while there was yet time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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