d first
asked, and the _Sipehr_ was added to my collection. A few days later I
received a deputation from Prince Keikhobade-Mirza, offering me a
similar shield as a present. In the first impulse of my gratitude I
hastened to present my thanks to the generous donor. His house was the
abode of poverty; his appearance was noble and dignified, and his
countenance very handsome, although he squinted. The portrait of his
royal father, the late Fet-Ali-Schah, hung in the room, and I was
struck with the resemblance between father and son. The full-length
portrait of my gracious host was there also--in the full dress of a
prince of the blood holding a shield. Keikhobade-Mirza, whose gracious
and cordial reception touched me the more on account of the evident
poverty of his household, pointed to this latter portrait,--saying that
in his father's lifetime he was, as I could see, his _selictar_, or
royal shield-bearer, and enjoyed a brilliant station, but that now he
was fallen; adding that he had sent me the shield which he had
inherited--the same which I saw represented in the picture--knowing that
I had been looking out for curious arms at the bazaar. I was profuse in
my expressions of gratitude, although thanks in Persia denote a man of
mean station, and though my Persian servant, who had accompanied me, was
making signs to me to stop. 'It is a mere trifle,' said the Prince, 'and
I hope to find some other articles more worthy your acceptance, for my
only desire is to be agreeable to you.' The morrow brought me his
_Nazir_, or steward, to ask for three hundred _toumans_ (150_l._); and
as I seemed in no hurry to give them, he sent for his shield back again.
Some time afterwards, he came to see me, and asked why I had returned
it. 'You sent for it by your nazir,' I said. 'My nazir,' he replied,
(although the man was present and looking on with an ambiguous smile,)
'is a rogue and a storyteller; give me a hundred toumans and I will let
you have the shield, which indeed is yours. I begged you to accept it as
well as every thing else I may possess.' And so the matter ended."

The foregoing picture of Oriental munificence can scarcely be more
disenchanting than the sight of the sketch of Mohammed-Schah which
Prince Soltykoff had the honor to take. The large head, the heavy
inexpressive features, the clumsy frame, are sad dream dispellers; and
were it not for the redeeming Persian cap, the "Centre of the World"
might be mistaken for a