Such is the story of Abdûlla of Khorassan, as given by my friend Derveesh Seffer; but the difference between perusing it and hearing him tell it, is that between reading a play and seeing it acted by the first performers. I had heard him tell this tale ten years before, when a curious incident occured. Two gentlemen rose to leave the party when he was commencing: he asked the cause of their departure. "They do not understand Persian," I said. "That is of no consequence," he replied; "entreat them to stay, and they will soon find that their ignorance of the language does not place them beyond my power." His wishes were explained, and the result proved he was correct; they were nearly as much entertained as others, and had their feelings almost equally excited; such was his admirable expression of countenance, and so varied the intonations of his voice. I was pleased to see my friend Derveesh Seffer treated with liberality by the Elchee. Such conduct towards persons of his character and profession makes useful impressions. But here, as elsewhere, much depends upon the selection of proper objects of notice; and it is no easy matter to resist the constant attempts which are made to obtain money or presents. A poet of Shiraz, named Moollâh Adam, had gone a stage from that city to present an ode to the Elchee, whom he had in this long and laboured production compared to Roostem, the hero of Persia, for valour; to Peerân-Weeseh, the Solomon of Tartary, for wisdom; and to Hâtim-Tâi, the most munificent of Arabian princes, for generosity. He had been rewarded for his trouble, but was not satisfied, and his genius was taxed to obtain something more. While we were sitting in the room, at the gateway of the beautiful garden of Jehân-Noomâ, looking at the mules carrying our baggage towards Isfahan, this votary of the muses made his appearance: his professed object was to take leave; his real purpose was to read an epigram of four lines,[48] the concluding one of which was-- "Moollâh Adam neek sâ'et yâft." This line, from sâ'et signifying hour or watch, might either be translated, "Moollâh Adam chose a good (or propitious) hour," or, "Moollâh Adam got a good watch." The animals, laden with the most valuable articles, were at the moment on the road below the window where we were seated, and the Elchee, pointing to them, said, "Sâ'et goozesht," the hour is past, or, the watch is gone. The countenance of the poet, which had, on reading his last line, glistened with expectation, changed for a moment, but was soon covered with forced smiles, and he declared that he would rather carry the Elchee's happy reply into the city than ten watches. I trembled lest this flattery should succeed: it did not; and he departed apparently in good humour, but inwardly, no doubt, much disappointed. FOOTNOTES: [41] This story is given in the History of Persia, vol. ii. p. 405. [42] Tekkeyahs. [43] The frail wife of Potiphar, according to the Mahomedans.