body; and that his majesty might sleep in perfect
security.
Of all the adventures of my life this was the least fatal. I was sent to Macao, and there I took shipping for Europe.
My ship required to be refitted on the coast of Golconda. I embraced this opportunity to visit the court of the great Aurung-Zeb, of whom such wonderful things have been told, and which was then in Delphi. I had the pleasure to see him on the day of that pompous ceremony in which he receives the celestial present sent him by the Sherif of Mecca. This was the besom with which they had swept the holy house, the Kaaba, and the Beth Alia. It is a symbol that sweeps away all the pollutions of the soul.
Aurung-Zeb seemed to have no need of it. He was the most pious man in all Indostan. It is true, he had cut the throat of one of his brothers, and poisoned his father. Twenty rayas, and as many omras, had been put to death; but that was a trifle. Nothing was talked of but his devotion. No king was thought comparable to him, except his sacred majesty, Muley Ismael, the most serene emperor of Morocco, who always cut off some heads every Friday after prayers.
I spoke not a word. My travels had taught me wisdom. I was sensible that it did not belong to me to decide between these august sovereigns. A
