IV
Evocation of the Genius
The Genius Cucufa is an old hypochondriac, who fearing lest the concerns of the world, and dealings with the rest of the genii, might prove an obstacle to his salvation, took refuge in the Void; in order to employ himself quite at leisure on the infinite perfections of the great Pagoda, to pinch, scratch and make notches in his flesh, to fret himself into madness, and starve himself to death. In that place he lies on a straw mat, his body tuck’d up in a sack, his flanks squeez’d with a cord, his arms crossed on his breast, and his head sunk into a hood, which suffers nothing to issue but the end of his beard. He sleeps, but one would think him in contemplation. All his company is an owl which nods at his feet, some rats which gnaw his mat, and bats which hover round his head. The manner of evoking him, is, by repeating, to the sound of a bell, the first verse of the nocturnal office of the Bramins: then he lifts up his hood, rubs his eyes, puts on his sandals, and sets out. Figure to yourself an old Camaldolian Monk carried in the air by two large horn-owls, which he holds by the legs. In this equipage it was, that Cucufa appear’d to the Sultan. “May the blessing of Brama be within these walls,” says he, bowing.
“Amen,” answered the prince.
“What do you want, my son?”
“A very small matter,” says Mangogul; “to procure me some pleasure at the expense of the court ladies.”
“Oh, my son!” replied Cucufa, “you have a larger appetite than a whole monastery of Bramins. What do you pretend to do with this troop of extravagants?”
“To learn from themselves their present and past adventures, that is all.”
“But that is impossible,” says the Genius. “To have women confess their adventures, is a thing that never was, nor ever will be.”
“Yet it must be,” added the Sultan. At these words, the Genius scratching his ear, and combing his long beard with his fingers, fell to thinking. His meditation was short.
“My child,” said he to Mangogul, “I love you, you shall be satisfied.” Instantly he plunged his right hand into a deep pocket made under his armpit on the left side of his frock, and, together with images, bless’d beads, little leaden pagodas, and musty sweetmeats, drew out a silver ring, which Mangogul at first took for one of St. Hubert’s rings. “You see this ring,” said he to the Sultan, “put it on your finger, my child: every woman, at whom you shall level the stone, will relate her intrigues in a plain, audible voice. Do not imagine however, that ’tis by the mouth that they are to speak.”
“By what then will they speak?” says Mangogul.
“By the frankest part about them, and the best instructed in those things which you desire to know,” says Cucufa; “by their Toys.”
“By their Toys,” replies Mangogul bursting into laughter; “that is particular. Talking Toys! That is an unheard extravagance.”
“My son,” said the Genius, “I have performed many greater prodigies for your grandfather: therefore depend on my word. Go, and may Brama bless you. Make a good use of your secret, and remember that there are ill-placed curiosities.” This said, the old hypocrite nodded his head, pull’d his hood over his face, took his horn-owls by the legs, and vanish’d in the air.
V
Mangogul’s Dangerous Temptation
Scarcely was Mangogul in possession of Cucufa’s mysterious ring, when he was tempted to make the first trial of it on the favorite. I forgot to mention, that besides the virtue of obliging the Toys of those women, on whom he turn’d the stone, to speak, it had that also of rendering the person invisible, who wore it on the little finger. Thus could Mangogul transport himself in the twinkling of an eye to a thousand places where he was not expected, and with his own eyes see many things, which are frequently transacted without witnesses. He had nothing more to do than to put on his ring, and say “I desire to be in such a place,” and he was there in an instant. Behold him then in Mirzoza’s bedchamber.
Mirzoza, who gave over all hopes of the Sultan’s company, was in bed. Mangogul approach’d her pillow softly, and saw by the glimmering light of a night taper, that she was asleep. “Good,” say he, “she sleeps, let us quickly shift the ring on another finger, resume our natural shape, turn the stone on this fair sleeper, and awake her Toy a little while.—But what stops me?—I tremble.—Is it possible that Mirzoza?—No, it is not possible, Mirzoza is faithful to me. Fly from me, injurious suspicions, I will not, I ought not to heed ye.” He said, and put his fingers on the ring: but taking them off as hastily as if it had been fire, he cried within himself. “What do I do, wretched man! I insult Cucufa’s advice. For the sake of satisfying a silly curiosity, I am going to run the hazard of losing my mistress and my life. If her Toy should be in the humor of talking extravagantly, I should never see her more, and I should die of grief. And who knows what a Toy may have in its soul?” Mangogul’s agitation made him in some measure forget himself: he pronounced these last words pretty loud, and the favorite awoke.
“Ah, Prince,” said she, less surprised than charmed at his presence, “you are here. Why did you not send me notice? Must you condescend to wait for my awaking?”
Mangogul answered the favorite by relating the success of his interview with Cucufa, show’d her the ring, and did not conceal one of its properties from her. “Ah! what a diabolical secret has he given you!” cry’d Mirzoza. “But pray,
