“Eighty years ago; the great Bihzad; master of masters; understood that
everything was ing to an end with the fall of Herat; and honorably blinded
himself so nobody would force him to paint in another way;” he said。 “A short
while after he deliberately inserted this plume needle into his own eye and
removed it; God’s exquisite darkness slowly descended over His beloved
servant; this artist with the miraculous hand。 This needle which came from
Herat to Tabriz with the now drunk and blind Bihzad; was sent as a present by
Shah Tahmasp to Our Sultan’s father; along with that legendary Book of Kings。
At first; Master Osman was unable to determine why this object was sent。 But
today; he was able to see the ill will and just logic behind this cruel present。
After Master Osman understood that Our Sultan wanted to have His own
portrait made in the style of the European masters and that you all; whom he
loved more than his own children; had betrayed him; he stuck this needle into
each of his eyes last night in the Treasury—in imitation of Bihzad。 Now; if I
were to blind you; the accursed man responsible for bringing to ruin the
workshop Master Osman established at the expense of his entire life; what of
it?”
“Whether or not you blind me; in the end; we’ll no longer be able to find a
place for ourselves here;” I said。 “If Master Osman truly goes blind; or passes
away; and we paint the way we feel like painting; embracing our faults and
individuality under the influence of the Franks so we might possess a style; we
might resemble ourselves; but we won’t be ourselves。 No; even if we were to
agree to paint like the old masters; reasoning that only in this way could we be
ourselves; Our Sultan; who’s turned His back even on Master Osman; will find
others to replace us。 No one will look at us anymore; we shall only incur pity。
The raiding of the coffeehouse merely rubs salt into our wounds; because half
the blame for this incident will fall to us miniaturists; who’ve slandered the
respected preacher。”
Although I tried at length to persuade them that it would work quite
against us to quarrel; it was to no avail。 They had no intention of listening to
me。 They were panicked。 If they could only decide quickly; before morning;
right or wrong; which of their lot was guilty; they were convinced they could
421
save themselves; be delivered from torture and that everything having to do
with the workshop would persist for years to e as it always had。
Nevertheless; what Black threatened to do didn’t please the other two。
What if it became evident that somebody else was guilty and Our Sultan
learned they blinded me for no reason whatsoever? They were terrified both of
Black’s closeness to Master Osman and his insolence toward him。 They tried
to pull back the needle which Black; in blind rage; persisted in holding before