LETTER 3
Zachi to Usbek, At Tauris
We instructed the chief of
the eunuchs to take us into the country; he will inform you that we arrived
there without accident. When we had to leave our litters in order
to cross the river, we went, as usual, into boxes: two slaves carried us
on their shoulders, and we were seen by nobody.
Dear Usbek, how I can endure
existence in your seraglio at Ispahan! It recalls everlastingly my past
happiness, provoking daily my desires with renewed vehemence.
I wander from room to room,
always searching for you; mocked at my every turn by the cruel memory of
my vanished bliss. Sometimes I behold you in that spot where I first received
you in my arms; again I see you in the room where you decided that famous
quarrel among your women. Each of us asserted a superiority in beauty.
We came just before you, after having exhausted our fancy in decking ourselves
with jewelry and adornments. You noted with pleasure the marvels of our
art; you were astonished at the height to which we had carried our desire
to please you. But you soon made those borrowed graces give way to more
natural charms; you destroyed the result of our labours: we were compelled
to despoil ourselves of those ornaments, now become tiresome to you, and
to appear before you in the simplicity of nature. For me, modesty counted
as nothing; I thought only of conquest. Happy Usbek! What charms did you
then behold. Long you wandered from enchantment to enchantment, unable
to control your roving fancy; each new grace required your willing tribute;
in an instant you covered us all with your kisses; your eager looks strayed
into the recesses of our charms; you made us vary our attitudes a thousand
times; and new commands brought forth new obedience. I avow it, Usbek,
a passion stronger even than ambition filled me with a desire to please
you. Gradually I saw myself become your heart’s mistress; you chose me,
left me, returned your love to me, and I knew now to keep your love: my
triumph was the despair of my rivals. You and I felt as it we were the
sole inhabitants of the world: nothing but ourselves deserved a moment’s
thought. Would to Heaven my rivals had been brave enough to witness all
the proofs of love you gave me! Had they watched well my transports they
would have felt the difference between their love and mine; it would have
been plain to them that, though they might dispute the palm of beauty,
they could not vie with me in tenderness…But what is this? Where has this
vain rehearsal led me? It is a misfortunate not to be loved, but to have
love withdrawn from one is an outrage. You abandon us, Usbek, to wander
in barbarous climes. What! Do you count it as nothing to be loved? Alas!
You do not even know what it is you lose! The sighs I heave there is none
to hear; my falling tears are not by to pity. Your insensibility
takes you further and further from the love that throbs for your in your
seraglio. Ah! My beloved Usbek, if you only knew your happiness!
The Seraglio at Fatme, the 21st of the moon of Maharram, 1
1711.
1 More correctly Muharram, the first month of the Persian year. Zachi's letter was, therefore, written about a month before the two that precede it.