174 Haroun, the Lonely Man of Shiraz. [ Aue. 
in case they should happen to burn them ; and then discontentedly con- 
soled himself, “ that nothing was as it should be.” 
It was in that day the law of Shiraz, that where one man had killed 
another, he should make all the reparation in his power to the surviving 
wives and children, if there were any, and it was agreed to by both 
parties—by husbanding the one and fathering the other, so that the 
culprit was condemned to life rather than to death: he had, however, 
the option, whether he preferred the bands of matrimony to the bowstring 
of justice. But if there were neither wives nor children, he was 
strangled forthwith, unless he could produce golden objections to this 
summary proceeding, and these met with the entire approbation of the 
Cadi, who had, in these cases, a particular leaning to the side of mercy, 
and loved very much to see the two scales of justice, one kicking the 
beam with a bowstring rolled up in it, and the other kissing the ground 
with a satisfying consideration of pieces of gold flung promiscuously in 
by no miserly hand, Indeed the Cadi’s love of mercy was well-known, 
and a handsome bribe handsomely, that is, covertly, conveyed, was never 
known to fail in loosening the bowstring at the tightest moment, in 
which a reprieve could be of service. It was but the day previous that 
he exhibited this tender failing of his, in the case of a young gentleman 
of good family, who had unfortunately happened to strangle his grand~ 
father merely to obtain his handsome grandmother, who happened in this 
particular instance to be a year or two younger than the young gentleman 
himself, instead of being, as is too commonly the case, a century 
or thereabouts older: he was, however, condemned to the bowstring, 
at the particular intercession of several really venerable grandmothers, 
who thought, very wisely, that an example was necessary in this instance, 
for there was no knowing to what such a crime might lead if it was not 
timely checked; there were, alas! to the shame of the charity of the 
citizens of Shiraz, some who thought that those old ladies were sinister 
in this recommendation, and that their anxiety for justice arose from 
another feeling—their despair that any young and handsome grandson of 
theirs would ever run the same risk for the same end. 
It was customary to tighten the bowstring about the necks of the 
condemned, whether they were to be strangled or spared, to keep up 
the appearance of justice, lest the poor rascals of which mobs are 
composed should cry out, that the bowstring of the law was not made 
to fit the necks of your rich rascals, which had been a calumny that 
might have made Justice herself to pull the bandage she wears over her 
eyes down over her entire face, to conceal her shame. The fatal string 
was, therefore, duly entwined round the neck of the young gentleman, 
and the word “ to pull” was given, but just as he began to chuckle in the 
throat, and look sanguine in complexion, and to stare blind Justice rather 
rudely in the face, the merciful Cadi relented, and cried out, “ Pray 
don’t hurt the young gentleman !”—the two ends of the bowstring 
of Justice dropt harmlessly over his shoulders like a tasselled ornament ; 
and the condemned grandson rose on his feet, and, like a polite young 
gentleman as he was, he made the grand salaam of compliment to the 
Cadi; who also rose, like a well-bred and urbane judge as he also was, 
and returned his salutation; but, unfortunately for the credit of clemency, 
he dropt at the same moment, from beneath the ample folds of his robes, 
a heavy purse of gold which he had just received from the young 
grandmother’s hand, as she stood behind the judgment-seat, who, 
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