THE

POCKET MAGAZINE

OF

Classic and Polite Literature.

FOR THE POCKET MAGAZINE.

KEDAR AND AMELA.

An Arabian Tale; from the French of M. de Florian.* THE good Yarab, the iman of Sana, in Arabia Felix, governed his subjects wisely, and rendered them exceedingly happy. His most intimate friend was an old dervise, named Malec, who resided on the summit of a mountain, at a short distance from Yarab's capital. The good iman frequently went to ask his advice, for Malec was a model of wisdom.

Yarab had a son named Kedar, whose disposition was a cause of great anxiety to him. Flatterers corrupted this young man, who, in spite of his father's care, had been badly brought up. Yarab foresaw that he would commit great follies, and that he would, therefore, be exposed to great misfortunes. His fears on this head induced him to have a large cave formed under the hermitage of the dervise, which he filled with an immense treasure. He then entrusted the key of the cave to the dervise, and requested that he would pre

This tale was intended by Florian merely as the sketch of a longer one, which was to consist of several chapters.

VOL. IV. No. XIX. B

serve this treasure for his son as a last resource, and not discover it to him till misfortune had brought him to the use of his reason.

A short time after this the good Yarab died, repeating his request to the dervise Malec, who received his last sigh. Kedar became iman of Sana, and, led astray by the possession of power, and by the arts of his courtiers, he gave himself up to all kinds of excessis, dissipated all his riches, laid on heavy taxes, alienated the hearts of his subjects, and acted as other suvereigns have done and are still doing.

One day when Kedar was hunting, he met with a young and lovely shepherdess all alone, who was watching her sheep. Kedar thought her handsome, and he told her so. The shepherdess made a reply which was dictated by bashfulness and modesty. Kedar, little used to this sort of virtue, became still more charmed. He returned several times to this wood, to converse with the shepherdess, who was named Amela, and he proposed to her to come and live in his seraglio. The shepherdess declined this hoLour; she was even frightened when she learned that the hunter was the iman. She said a number of admirable things, which made an impression on Kedar, whose heart was good at bottom; and his love for her was redoubled.

When he returned to his palace he spoke of Amela to his favourite Amrou, who laughed at the pretended virtue of the shepherdess, made Kedar blush at the respect which he had felt for her, and persuaded him to have her carried off and shut up in the seraglio, where she would not, he assured him, be more than two days before she would be thoroughly at ease in her new situation.

Kedar allowed himself to be persuaded; but he determined that he would try the effect of a last conversation with Amela, after which he would leave to Amrou the management of the affair. Kedar visited his shepherdess, and spoke to her in very different language from that which he had till then employed. The shepherdess heard him with indignation. Kedar quitted her with an assurance that she should be his on the morrow; and, when he reached his palace, he

ordered Amrou to send and seize the beautiful shepherdess.

Amrou went himself to perform this commission; but he did not find the shepherdess. Amela had taken flight. All search after her was fruitless; in her cottage nothing was found but her crook, her flock, and a letter for Kedar, which was full of dignity and virtue. Amrou retraced his steps quite abashed, and was badly received by his master, who greatly regretted his shepherdess. But Amrou procured for him new pleasures, and Kedar was speedily consoled.

In the mean time poor Amela pursued her flight with all possible expedition. To save her honour, she had quitted her father and mother, whom she tenderly loved. Amela loved Kedar also, but his rank of iman, and the bad character which he bore, had I given her resolution to triumph over her love. She thought of all this and wept as she journeyed onward. At length she arrived at the high mountain where the dervise Malec dwelt. She was kindly greeted by him, she told him her story, and the benevolent Malec praised her, and proposed to her to stay with him, where certainly no one would come to look for her, for, since he death of Yarab, Kedar had never set his foot in the hermitage. The very advanced age of Malec left the chaste Amela nothing to fear from her acceptance of his offer. She took up her residence with him, and the dervise promised that he would send some relief to her father and mother, a thing which it was easy for him to do, in consequence of the treasure under his care, which the good Yarab had also permitted him to employ in pious works. Amela, therefore, led with him a very happy and quiet life, always regretting, however, that Kedar should be an iman and a man of bad character.

Kedar, who had ceased to think of her, gave himself up entirely to Amrou, who made him commit folly after folly. A neighbouring sheik declared war against him; Kedar appointed as his general a friend of Amrou; this friend was defeated; Kedar lost provinces, he discontented his army, he overwhelmed his subjects with taxes, which he squandered among his

courtiers; and at length, secretly prompted by Amrou, the people revolted against him. Kedar was besieged in his palace, Amrou pretended to make a sally with the guards to detend him; he gained over the guards, caused himself to be proclaimed iman, and sent the mutes with the bowstring to Kedar, who now began to perceive that his dear friend was nothing but a traitor. He requested a few moments to repeat his prayers, and availing himself of a subterraneous passage which the good Yarab had caused to be formed, and of which Kedar alone had the key, he escaped from his palace, and fled trembling into the country, tormented by a thousand painful reflections.

While all this was taking place, Amela was still residing with the dervise, who gave her many valuable lessons of wisdom. Her father and mother were now dead: she wept for their loss, and resolved never to quit the good Malec, whom she looked upon as a father. But Malec was very old, and his end was nigh; when it arrived, he advised Amela to conceal his decease, to take his dress and his long beard, and to remain in the hermitage, where great events would, he predicted, happen to her. He disclosed to Amela the secret of the treasure, and gave her instructions how to behave, in case Kedar, with the commencement of whose misfortunes the dervise was acquainted, should ever think proper to seek his father's friend. Having done this, the good Malec died. Amela wept over and buried him; but she assumed his dress and beard, acted the dervise in his stead, and was so completely disguised that it would have been impossible to discover her.

Kedar, proscribed, without friends, without followers, without money, bethought him of the dervise, the friend of his father; and that the wise Yarab on his death bed had advised him to seek the good Malec if ever he should be overtaken by heavy misfortunes. That moment was now arrived, and he hastened towards the great mountain. He was pursued by his own troops; he was obliged to change his dress with a beggar; he stopped at the cottage of a peasant, and heard all the family bless God that Kedar was no

longer iman; at length he reached the eminence, thoroughly out of countenance, and thoroughly humiliated.

The prudent Amela received him very kindly, and knew him though he did not know her. Kedar told her his melancholy story, and spoke to her of his shepherdess, the remembrance of whom his heart still retained. Amela, who was overjoyed, conceived the design of reforming Kedar, but to do this would require some time. She gave him wise lessons, and advised him to begin by entering as a soldier in the army of a neighbouring sheik, named Hatem, the same with whom he had been at war. "Endeavour," said she to him, "to raise yourself by your exploits, and when, by diut of valour, you have gained his friendship, you may then declare yourself, and he will restore you to your throne." After having said this, she gave him a smail sum of money, and Kedar set off to become a soldier.

Kedar joined the army; he was brave, and he performed great actions. Rank was given to him, and he performed still greater; but the viziers, who were jealous of him, kept him at a distance from the sovereign; he was treated with injustice; reward was withheld from him; in a word, he suffered everything which he had made meu of merit suffer; and at length, completely disgusted, he quitted the military service, and went to relate the whole to the dervise, who reminded him that he had behaved exactly in the same manner when he was iman. Kedar confessed that this was true, and was better able to see his own faults now that he was the victim of similar faults. The dervise advised him to become a tradesman, and gave him money to begin with.

Kedar departed for the purpose of entering into trade at Bagdad. His fortune increased; he grew opulent. A very rich widow wished to marry him, but the remembrance of his shepherdess, with whom he did not despair of meeting once more, prevented him from accepting this offer. The caliph stood in need of his credit, and he lent it to him; his bankruptcy was the consequence. New laws, unfavourable to commerce, completed his ruin. He returned again to the dervise, who consoled him, but reminded him