The Forbidden Kingdom by Jan Jacob Slauerhoff Read Free Book Online Page B

hair and a beard . Velho, the great merchant, had these characteristics in a very pronounced form. Yet he of all people was one of the few to have passed through this gate, the only one to have seen the great Guangxi, the first to have recognized Marco Polo in the temple of six hundred great spirits, in one of the huge bronze statues. The other Portuguese wanted to make up in courage and cruelty for what they lacked in number, but if they were perhaps superior in bravery, they were far inferior to their adversaries in cruelty. Velho was the only one who really understood that force of arms and heroics did not impress the Heavenly Ones, but rather filled them with contempt. He knew the only weapon: gifts, given in such a way that accepting them seemed like a favour.He used this weapon in masterly fashion; he never gave too much, never too little, sensing how much honour was due to the governor, how much to a mandarin, a priest, a spy. As a result Velho controlled a large part of the silk and tea imports and the whole of the food supply and had become the richest and most powerful man in Macao. But his power and wealth were based solely on his relations with the Chinese. His compatriots hated him: his fellow guild members out of envy, the officers because he wanted to sideline them, and the clergy because he scoffed at the rivalry between the orders and with his lavish gifts to charity put the lustre of church charity in the shade and made its paltriness look ridiculous. He had long been barred from all offices, before being reluctantly admitted. Finally he had to become a senator. They could no longer do without him now that food supplies to the colony were becoming more problematic, the Chinese again and again closed the warehouses and only Velho’s influence could make them open.
    Now he was sitting at the corner window of his study, a roomy chamber with six windows facing the sea. This enabled him to see both the harbour and the Ilha Verde on the far side, the highest cathedral, São Paulo from one corner window, and the Monte citadel from the other. This gave him a constantly changing view as he moved easily about the large room in his flowered silk robe, a giftfrom the same governor of Guangdong who had once threatened to lay waste to Macao. He was sneered at for this housecoat. All the Portuguese kept their uncomfortable and heavy clothes; Velho shrouded his heavy bulk in the loose silk material, worked harder and paid no attention to the mockery. In this garb he received everyone who came to his consultation meeting, from the most lowly Chinese merchant to the Ouvidor , to ask his advice on how to appease some enraged mandarin. Then Velho would sit back at his table, throw his arms in the air, so that the wide sleeves fell back and revealed his fleshiness. Then he waxed eloquent and indicated in what way the favour of the angry one could be regained . The Procurador was irritated beyond measure by his practices, which were considered humiliating for royal power.
    Once, when Velho had given a princely dowry to a poor coloured girl, the Procurador came to criticize his liberality to yellow-skinned Chinese and lack of commitment to the homeland.
    “If you had put your wealth at the army’s disposal, Macao would long since have been independent, free of these humiliating measures, your trade would be free, since we might have occupied Guangdong, and more.” The eyes of the old soldier sparkled. “Didn’t Alexander conquer a worldwide empire with a small army?”
    Velho laughed and placed his hand on a map. He pointed to a dot in the Heavenly Kingdom and somewhere far away a small patch.
    “That is us.”
    Then, passing his hand over almost the whole of Asia, he said:
    “And this is them. Three centuries ago Genghis Khan came to conquer the whole of Europe. It was defenceless , but he disdained to take it. He was right. A few castles of renegade knights and a few squabbling towns, are those the spoils of war? And now