Giulia gazed at me very searchingly as if wondering whether I were in earnest. Then a queer smile overspread her face and without a word she clapped her hands to summon Alberto. When he came she said to him, “Alberto, your master suspects that your presence here is harmful to my reputation and wishes to make a eunuch of you. He declares that the operation will not injure your health. What have you to say to this?”
Alberto’s dark face paled a little, perhaps, and he glanced at me as if judging the size of my neck. Then he turned to Giulia with an expressionless smile and answered meekly, “Madam, if I must choose between gelding and the galleys, you know what my answer will be. I don’t pretend to look forward to so disagreeable an ordeal, but my consolation is my utter indifference to women. My one desire is to devote my life to your service, and if I can please my master by submitting to this operation I will seek out a competent surgeon without delay.”
The noble candor o£ this speech made me ashamed of my meditated brutality. At the same time a great weight was lifted from my heart, for if he was indeed as indifferent to women as he averred I had nothing to fear on Giulia’s account. Giulia, narrowly watching my face, said, “Well, Michael, I hope you’re properly ashamed? Is a slave to teach you nobility of conduct? You see now that there are still unselfish and loyal people in the world, and that everyone is not as ill natured as yourself. Make a eunuch of him if you like, but if you do I will never set eyes upon you again, so despicable would you then appear to me.”
By this time I was feeling like some unnatural monster, but seeing my indecision Alberto fell on his knees before me in tears and cried, “No, no, my dear master! Don’t listen to her, but have me castrated at once, for I cannot bear your distrust. I swear I shall lose nothing by it; to me women are no more than sticks and stones. The good God has given me the heart of a eunuch, for all my beard.”
They worked on me together until to my own surprise I found myself begging Giulia not to treat this selfless man so harshly. She wept and agreed to let all be as before, provided I never mentioned the matter again or insulted her faithful servant with my base suspicions. She further reminded me that if the Sultan could eat with his slave, so could I, and that Alberto was no scullion but a major-domo, such as was found in the most distinguished Venetian families.
Though still reluctant, I was ready to agree to anything that might mollify Giulia. We went early to bed that night and she showed herself fully reconciled to me.
Of her doings in the Seraglio she would not speak. All in good time, she told me; for the moment I need know no more than that the Kisler-Aga was singularly well disposed toward her, and that she had received countless presents from the women of the harem and from her Greek and Jewish friends. I did not press her, or sadden her by remarking that most of the presents seemed to me worthless trash.
Early next morning a richly dressed eunuch arrived to take me to the Seraglio, where he bade me present myself to the Kislar-Aga. This fat, ruthless man, whose Negro blood gave his cheeks a gray tinge, received me most cordially and allowed me to help him to his feet, that he might accompany me to the Court of Bliss.
This unwonted civility greatly astonished me, but the whole Seraglio was in a sunny mood because of the Sultan’s return. Nowhere was a surly face to be seen. From the meanest slave to the highest official all were smiling-all dispensed blessings to right and left. I was showered with benedictions; my footsteps and my very toenails were blessed, and I was told that I was fairer than the moon, despite the scar left on my cheek by de Varga’s teeth, which had somewhat disfigured one corner of my mouth. The torrent carried me with it and I exerted myself to make ever more graceful replies, calling down blessings on the very shadows of those I met.
The Kislar-Aga told me that Sultana Khurrem had presented the Sultan with a daughter during his absence, in whose ear the name Mirmah had been whispered. She was fairer than the moon and the Kislar-Aga could not sufficiently praise the Sultana for bearing her lord a child each time he went to war, and being consequently ever merrier and more beautiful on his return than she had been at his departure. The Kislar-Aga was evidently satisfied that Sultana Khurrem still enjoyed the Sultan’s favor.
Engrossed in this animated conversation I had not time to look about me until the Kislar-Aga suddenly kicked the back of my knee as a hint to prostrate myself. We had come through the Court of Bliss into the Princes’ playroom, and to my amazement I found myself in the presence of Suleiman himself. With the Grand Vizier beside him as usual he was showing his sons how to work some toys of Nurnberg make, which he had brought home for them. There was a horse that moved its legs and drew a cart, a drummer that beat his drum, and many other marvelous things such as had been found in profusion in the nurseries of Buda Palace.
The boys knelt about him on the floor. Mustafa the eldest looked on in dignified silence; he was as dazzlingly beautiful as his mother-now fallen from favor-was said to be. The lively Muhammed shrieked with delight. Selim stretched out his hands for every toy, while nearest his father stood little Prince Jehangir. He rested his chin trustfully on Suleiman’s silken sleeve so that the hump, alas, showed all too plainly beneath the little kaftan. His dark eyes gazed at the gaily painted toys as if penetrating their vanity, as if in his heart, child though he was, he meditated upon the baffling mysteries of life and death.
When the Sultan saw me he dropped the toys, smiled for once without constraint, and said merrily, “Blessings on you, Michael el- Hakim, from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet! May every hair of your head and beard be blessed and may your wife bear you only sons. But in the name of Allah do not bless me in return, for I’ve weathered such a storm of benisons already that now as soon as anyone opens his mouth I begin to laugh. Pay no attention to me, for it is Prince Jehangir who wishes to receive you in a worthy manner.”
I rose to my knees to kiss Prince Jehangir’s thin hand. His sallow face flushed with joy and he stumbled excitedly over his words as he patted my cheeks and cried, “O Michael el-Hakim, Michael el- Hakim! I have a surprise for you-a bigger surprise than you can ever guess!”
This was enough to show me that at least no evil had befallen my dog, and I was now to learn that Rael had earned high regard and had founded a family. Prince Jehangir hurried me off to see three adorable black-and-white puppies lying with their mother in a kiosk that had been fitted out as a splendid kennel.
“Allah is Allah!” I cried, and the tears ran down my cheeks at Rael’s ecstatic welcome. “How has this come about?”
Prince Mustafa said to me in his grown-up fashion, “We didn’t know that breed of dog, and the kennel master despised Rael. But when I saw how faithfully he served my little brother I thought I would find out more about him. The Venetian envoy knew the breed and said that in spite of harsh treatment in the past, Rael had all the points of the best variety of Italian house dog. We bought a mate for him from the Duke of Mantua, and the result you may see in that basket. Tell me how Rael came into your possession and what his pedigree is, so that we can record it in our kennel book, with the names of the puppies.”
I was at a loss for what to say, for I had picked Rael up as a stray in the courtyard of Memmingen town hall. All I knew was that he was a good, pious dog that had resolutely endured the torture of the Holy Inquisition and been acquitted. I explained this to Prince Mustafa and told him how faithfully Rael had served me and how he had saved my life when I lay dying of the plague among the corpses in the streets of Rome.