His Severe Illness at Bijapur

[Friday, 13 January, contd.] My servants went to this Persian, who was called Coja Abdella [Khwāja Abdullah], and whom, fortunately, they found at home. They told him the object of their coming to his house. He immediately mounted his horse and came to see me, with two horsemen of his suite. The violence of my fever was so great that I did not recognize him. After saluting and looking at me a little, he recognized me and exclaimed in Persian to me, ‘chabas, chabas Brader! cheal duy? Inchalla, chouchery coda! escoja miay?’ which in our tongue means: Courage, courage, my dear brother! who would have thought to see my best friend here. God be praised. What, dear brother, has brought you to this place? ¹ ‘What!’ he continued, ‘don’t you recognize Khwaja Abdullah, the Governor of Mīrjān, the good friend of the French, with whom you used to be so friendly?’ I looked at his face and small stature, and recognized that it was indeed he ² .1 showed him as best I could the joy 1 felt at meeting him here, and that I was in great need of his help, seeing the state I was in. I begged him to lose no time in bringing someone who could help me and get me a better room than that which I had. ‘As regards the room,’ he said, ‘you can have one in my house, or if you wish to be quieter and far from any noise, I will find you one near to me; but as to providing someone who can give you remedies and treat your illness, you are aware that there is no doctor or surgeon amongst us; we hardly know what such a man is, and Europeans are only consulted when one of them happens to be passing in this country ³ . ‘However,’ he said, ‘if you would 272like to call in a Portuguese renegade, who is at the court here, I will send to fetch him. He dabbles a little in medicine, and I know of no one else here who can help you.’ I had a horrible repugnance to employing such a person; but as I felt much worse, I begged the Khwaja to fetch this Portuguese. It was, however, in vain, as he had gone to the country, whence he would not return for some time. I therefore found myself without hope of succour. The Persian visited me every day to cheer me up, and did all he could to show his affection and sorrow at seeing me so ill. He had prepared a room for me in his house, and wished to carry me there, thinking I would be better looked after near him. I sent, however, one of my servants to see the place, and he brought back the news that, though it was very convenient, there was always such a large crowd at this Persian’s that he thought I could not stay there, because of the great noise and uproar that went on all day. This obliged me to ask him to find me a room where I could be in peace and quiet.