“It is admirable,” answered the Sultan; “I find but one defect in it.”
“What defect is that?” replied the favorite.
“It is,” said Mangogul, “that it is as false as false can be. Pursuant to your notions, we must all be endowed with souls: now observe, my soul’s delight, that there is not common sense in this supposition. I have a soul: there is an animal that acts most part of the time as if he had none; and perhaps in reality he has none, even while he acts as if he had one. But he has a nose made like mine; I feel that I have a soul, and that I think: therefore that animal has a soul, and thinks likewise. This argument has been made use of above a thousand years, and it has been impertinent full as long.”
“I own,” said the favorite, “that it is not always evident that others think.”
“And add,” replied Mangogul, “that it is evident on an hundred occasions that they do not think.”
“But in my opinion,” says Mirzoza, “it would be going a great length, to infer from thence, that they never have or ever will think. A person is not always a beast, for having been so sometimes; and your highness—”
Mirzoza, fearing to offend the Sultan, stopped short. “Continue, madam,” said Mangogul, “I understand you; would you not have said, has my highness never acted the beast? I answer you, that I have now and then, and that even I excused others for taking me for such: for you may easily imagine, that they did not fail so to do, though they dared not to speak out.”
“Ah! prince,” cried the favorite, “if men refused a soul to the greatest monarch upon earth, to whom could they allow one?”
“Pray, forbear compliments,” says Mangogul. “I have for a moment laid down the crown and scepter. I have ceased to be Sultan, in order to be a philosopher, and I can hear and speak the truth. I believe I have given you proofs of the one; and you have hinted to me, without offending me, and quite at your ease, that I have been sometimes no better than a beast. Permit me thoroughly to fulfil the duties of my new character.
“Far from agreeing with you,” continued he, “that every creature that has legs, arms, hands, eyes and ears as I have, possesses a soul like me; I declare to you, that I am absolutely persuaded, that three fourths of the men and all the women are but mere machines.”
“There may possibly be as much truth,” answered the favorite, “as politeness in what you say.”
“Oh!” says the Sultan, “madam seems to be angry: and why the devil do you take it into your head to philosophize, if you will not allow one to speak the truth? Is it in the schools that politeness is to be sought for? I have left you full elbow-room; pray, allow me the same, if you please. Well, then, I was saying, that ye are all beasts.”
“Yes, prince; and this is what remained to be proved,” added Mirzoza.
“Nothing more easy,” answered the Sultan. Then he set about detailing all the impertinences which had been said over and over, with as little wit and delicacy as possible, against a sex which possesses both these qualities in a sovereign degree. Never was Mirzoza’s patience put to a greater trial; and you would never be so tired in your whole life, as if I related all Mangogul’s reasonings. This prince, who did not want good sense, was that day absurd beyond all comprehension: of which you shall be a judge. “It is so true, by Jupiter,” said he, “that a woman is but an animal, that I’ll wager, if I turn Cucufa’s ring on my mare, I shall make her speak like a woman.”
“Without doubt,” answered Mirzoza, “there is the strongest argument that has ever been, or ever will be made against us.” Then she burst out into a loud fit of laughter. Mangogul, vexed to see no end to her laughter, went out in a hurry, resolved to try the whimsical experiment, which occur’d to his imagination.
XXVIII
Thirteenth Trial of the Ring
The Little Mare
I am not a great portrait-maker. I have exempted the reader from that of the favorite Sultana; but I can never condescend to remit him that of the Sultan’s mare. She was of a middling size, and had a pretty good gait; the chief fault found with her in that regard was, that she did not bridle her head sufficiently. Her colour was white, with blue eyes, small hoofs, clean legs, firm hams, and light haunches. She had been taught to dance for a long time, and she made her bows like a master of the ceremonies. Upon the whole she was a pretty beast enough, and remarkably gentle: she was easily mounted, but one must be an excellent horseman to be able to keep the saddle. She had belong’d to the senator Aaron: but on a fine evening the skittish creature took fright, threw the judge, and ran full speed to the Sultan’s studs, carrying with her the saddle, bridle, furniture, housings and caparisons of value; which became her so well, that it was not thought proper to send them back.
Mangogul went into his stables, accompanied by his first secretary Ziguezague. “Listen attentively,” said he, “and write.”—That very instant he turn’d his ring on the mare, which fell to leaping, prancing, kicking, bouncing, and neighing under the tail.—“Where are your thoughts,” said the prince to his secretary, “write then.”
“Sultan,” replied Ziguezague, “I wait till your highness begins.”
“My mare,” says Mangogul, “will dictate to you this once, write.”
Ziguezague, whom this order reduced too low in his own opinion, assumed the liberty of representing to the Sultan, that he would always esteem it a high honour to be his secretary, but not that
